We'll Worry About That Later! What Else is Happening in the Apartments?

There wasn’t just the love triangle that had—at this point—become a threesome thanks to Milan’s infiltration and a little Manacite-fueled persuasion. There wasn’t just the guy who had found the Manacite and invited his girlfriend over to share in the discovery. There were people who were affected in the same way Milan initially was when the chemical was dropped into the building’s intake vent—taken surprise by things simply coming to life around them.

Milan had taken an interest in a couple units here and there when she’d accidentally gotten some fresh manacite into her bloodstream, and now she could zoom through some strange mental space and see everything that was going on space by space. What she couldn’t do was focus on more than a couple things at once—especially if she was trying to focus on what was going on where her actual body was.

What resulted was an uncertain sort of semi-influence. Certain details what was going on might bring Milan’s attention to them, like a brightly colored shirt set against a sidewalk full of white button-ups. It was sort of like training wandering mind — plenty of things can come up to distract; it’s about letting go of all but the most interesting ones. And those interesting ones might be shifted on their course, whether or not she was so inclined.

In a half-floor suite on the 12th floor, a curvy brunette marched about the apartment with a purpose. As she cleaned things in the common areas, she mentally went down her list of tasks to complete. When these things began doing themselves, she didn’t notice at first. Absent of any local command, the manacite apparently took her actions as a cue and worked their way into her mind to learn more about her tasks as their dispersed partners in the interior atmosphere began joining in the chores.

It wasn’t until she started hearing faucets operating and spray bottles spraying that she began to investigate. The manacite made no effort to hide its effects from her; it simply knew that she had a list of things she wanted to get done.

She wandered back into the master bedroom with a basket of laundry, freezing halfway through her path toward the bed. There were things on the dresser moving on their own. She stared at the impossible as spare coins sorted themselves, receipts folded into a neat pile, and jewelry was re-seated on their hangers or holders.

She started backing out of the room, and the manacite had no designs on either encouraging or discouraging the reaction. It went on cleaning, just as she would have if she were doing the chores herself.

This was a new building…too new to possibly be haunted, right? Once she’d backed out of the room entirely, she watched drawers open up, one by one, as the clothes inside righted themselves and situated any spilled stacks or unfolded clothes in them.

Teresa’s client, Mr. Jansen—James—was some kind of advertising VP. He seemed like a nice guy, part of the rising set of movers and shakers in the city since she’d met him, but what Teresa found most odd about him was his quirky uncertainty despite his obvious position. These days he tried to stay out of the house when she was over, and he tipped very, very well. He was a grown man in need of a little mothering, and Teresa was pretty good at exactly that. He was an attractive guy, too, but Teresa never crossed those lines in a professional setting for a handful of reasons.

Besides, James’ new girlfriend Tina was becoming a bigger and bigger part of his life lately. Tina was a knockout. She had a face that scouts would approach, and she’d met James at a photoshoot for one of his client’s ads. Things were getting serious, because Teresa watched her on-site laundry go from the occasional nightshirt or pair of panties to having a whole closet to herself.

So often a new girlfriend would be the end of bachelor clients like James…especially with the way Teresa looked. Not that she was conceited, but her model client were wealthy bachelor males, and she would usually be out the moment one of them got into a serious relationship. Tina either trusted James enough to have another woman in the house, or she didn’t find Teresa to be a threat. Either way, she was a sweetheart to Teresa, and the tips only got better.

The best part about staying on for Tina and James were the clothes. Tina would cycle through whole racks every season, giving Teresa an effective first right of refusal over any of the designer wear Tina was tossing. They had close to the same shape in the hips and thighs, though Tina was taller and less top heavy.

The laundry basket Teresa had dropped lifted off the ground now, and she covered her mouth as she watched the basket levitate. The folded clothes rose out of it one by one, either going to their appropriate drawers or unfolding to their hanging positions as they made their way toward hangers in the closet.

She backed away from the room, mumbling to herself about ghosts before turning around down the hall to encounter one of Lisa’s slinky red dresses. It was hovering in front of her, but it wasn’t flat and folded like the clothes she watched the bedroom. It looked as if an invisible Lisa was wearing it…the dress and nothing else, if the visible nipples were any indication.

“Y-you’re not…actually Lisa, or her ghost, right?” Teresa asked.

_

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