[ Darcy withdraws her sword with a flourish and funnels her Rage through it. To a ghost, it makes the weapon buzz with danger, like standing too close to a live wire. Drops of water condense on the surface of the blade, and Darcy's face ripples like she's been plunged underwater. ]
I. Already. Tried. That. You're not the only ghost here, fucker.
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I. Already. Tried. That. You're not the only ghost here, fucker.