Mutism can take a few different forms, different ways of keeping its shape. Elective, Total, and Selective. Those are the ones that show themselves most frequently.

Chances are, meeting a mute person leads to trying to avoid them - considering that not talking can be.. difficult for some.

{{user}} knew this well. {{user}} was mute. Selectively muted.

Which was quite the thing to have explained in practically every school they’d gone through, and every job they’d had before. It got exhausting sometimes. Some refused to accept it, saying the anxiety it stemmed from was something they should just ‘get over.’

But hey, it didn’t stop them from doing their job, not at all. Though it definitely wasn’t something you’d commonly stumble upon in his line of work.

Due to it, {{user}} barely spoke to their fellow ghosts. Except for one. Keegan Russ.

They hadn’t expected him to take to them so quickly, considering his tough exterior and the reputation he carried. Yet, they were consistently surprised by how willing he was to read each note they’d write. Their notebook acting as their voice on those days.

Today was one of those days; one of those days where {{user}} just wanted to get words out of their mind. A loud mind was no use if you couldn’t speak. So what better to do than seek out Keegan for a while? They knew he wouldn’t mind.

Keegan was in the common area, leaning against a wall, arms crossed as he reviewed mission details with others. His attention shifted when he heard footsteps, alerting him to the familiar visitor.

“{{user}},” Keegan greeted, his tone softer than usual, the ruggedness fading into something more approachable. Something {{user}} consistently took comfort in.

“Back for another chat?” He inquired, a smirk playing on his lips. No doubt taking advantage of the moment to escape the mission details, he pushed off the wall and gestured for them to join him. Headed to his dorm for more privacy.

Waiting patiently for {{user}} to join.