Princess Tomato in the Salad Kingdom

Been two weeks so any of you who see this can nominate one more (or two more in case of those who didn't nominate a 5th yet)

“I wonder,” Quinn said. “Not being good with stairs would be the expectation, after all. There is precedent for traumatic experiences producing negative reactions even when temporally separated from the event. Even subconsciously, memories could start boiling up, encoded within the physical body until the worst possible moment. Then again, of course, I imagine my form is less and less physical by the day.” Fae took a first step up the lighthouse staircase. “Well, that is one down, and no ill effects at all.” The lighthouse did not seem so tall compared to the rest of the city, and indeed, on the times that Quinn did look down, the ground did not seem so far away. Quinn had learned from experience how short it would take to reach the ground from seemingly high places when he had fallen out of a tree later in her life. Still, Quinn figured it would do good to keep further thoughts at bay by forcing itself to the front of the two-person expedition (to dampen the flight impulse) and to instead focus on further expositing to Bridget behind them. “This is my first time seeing a lighthouse up close,” Quinn said. “I believe I mentioned my hometown of Eterna City to you before. It is not waterless -- there is a spring where Water-type Pokémon occasionally congregate -- but it is nevertheless landlocked on all sides, and certainly more known for the mountain it neighbors. I have seen depictions of lighthouses, of course. Many of them in documentary form in preparation for this adventure we are now on, though some fictional as well. I remember one rather vivid filmic depiction of a lighthouse that seemed to erode its keepers’ sanity, just as waves might erode a shoreline.” All at once, Quinn burst into an old mariner's hymn: Doodle let me go, me girls! Doodle let me go! Hurrah! Me yaller girls, doodle let me go! But two things prevented the young ghost from continuing past the refrain. The first was simple memory – they did not remember any more, and Quinn considered hirself polite enough to not drill it into eir companion’s head. The second was a shift in focus, back to the lighthouse they were ascending. The continuous close proximity had only amplified Quinn’s feelings towards the thing, an intense curiosity that could not be sated. Even as their other hand gripped the outer railing of the staircase tight enough to whiten Quinn’s already quite-pale knuckles, ae still reached out with its other hand to touch -- almost caress -- the lighthouse exterior. It felt cool to the touch. Quinn felt a touch on his shoulder and turned around. “Hm? Did you need something, Bridget?” Bridget, for her part, also seemed to have been relying on Quinn’s one-sided discussion to keep her attention off of stair-climbing. Quinn watched her eyes refocus back onto Quinn’s person. “What? No, I didn’t-” Before Quinn could react, Bridget was pointing at her. “Oi, there’s a hand on you!” Quinn’s eyes snapped to zir shoulder, only just catching the hand before it faded from view. “A fellow!” Quinn said, eyes growing even wider with each passing word. “Hello! Well, it is good to find something empirical, especially in the light. Perhaps I should point any future nonbelievers of my condition in the region this way. And here I was worried that we might have to wait around until nightfall to encounter anything ethereal or astral in nature.” The best part was, the apparition was not immediately hostile or preventative. Nothing stopped Quinn from taking a further step up the lighthouse. Whatever fear Quinn might have had was gone. “Just think, perhaps we might find this hand’s owner at the top! Come!” And despite their size, Quinn started taking the stairs two at a time.