maybe we’re just ghosts

Isn’t Jata lucky? Not one Ronin, but two have stopped by to help. His astral projection splashes by the Arbiter, chasing out a flock of hels who have attempted to use the place as a swimming pool, and their angry squawks fill the air until he has successfully shooed them all away. The projection disappears once the work is done, and the real deal grins from his place sitting aboard his nimbus cloud. ”You look horrible,” he says cheerfully to Sunjata, though his tone is warm. He slips off the cloud and plods through the water to greet his friend, nodding his agreement. ”It slipped a finger up the bum when we weren’t looking, that’s for sure,” he says of the storm, nudging Jata with his elbow. ”I’ll get a few buckets, you take a seat.” He nods at the cloud still bobbing around. Clearly Sunjata did not come here for this shit, and since Ronin is around, he’ll throw him a bone. ronypony it's always nice to make an impression