ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ⇴ ᴛᴠᴅ ² ✓

eleven

"Well that was unbearably depressing."

Billie rolled her eyes tiredly, she didn't have many ghosts in her past, but if she had to talk to ones she didn't even know, she might as well pass out from the weed already. A woman sat down to her right, crossing her legs and placing a dainty set of hands over her lap.

Fully turning to her, Billie didn't bother trying to cover up her bitchface. She was sad and lonely, but she'd rather that than whatever interaction was about to ensue with the stranger. Billie frowned slightly as she noticed her odd clothing. 

The woman looked like she'd plucked her outfit and hairdo straight from a sixties catalogue. Her fitted sea blue trousers highlighted an unusually slim waist, as though she'd spent a decade wearing nothing but corsets paired with a checkered button up rolled at the sleeves. Her midnight, natural hair was styled extremely short, small strands curling into shapely ringlets, framing her angular features. 

Billie subconsciously straightened up her crooked back as she observed the stranger, her posture was so stiff, she could have served in the army for all Billie knew.

Harper stopped for a moment after observing her, sliding her sunglasses a tad down her nose so she could look a little deeper at the woman. Bright lights like Billie had never seen before swirled vibrantly around her, as though they were not only a part of her, but she herself controlled them. "Woah..." She remarked quietly, the woman smirking slightly at the reaction. "Do I know you?" 

The question sounded as though it came from an innocent little child and if Billie weren't so stoned she probably would have cringed at her own voice as she slid the sunglasses back into place, already overwhelmed by the mysterious woman's aura.

"Not directly, no. But I'm sure you've heard of me." She sprinkled in more suspense to her hidden identity and Billie was hanging onto her every last, carefully articulated word. 

"I was the clairvoyant that came before you, darling. My name is Michelle DeSante." She cringed slightly as she said her own name, as though a drop of lemon had appeared on her tongue. "But you can call me Mickey."

Mickey cast her eyes out to their surroundings, almost paranoid. "I don't know how long this... resurrection business will last, better not dawdle." She spoke quietly, clapping her hands together at the end as she stood to her booted feet, grace and style echoing from her every movement.

Billie frowned to the woman in confusion. "What do you mean? Are you... dead?" She questioned in confusion. Billie began to question the authenticity of the weed she'd smoked, beginning to get a little paranoid with herself. What the hell was in this batch?

"Precisely. Have been for a while now. I'll admit, it's not as exciting as I'd hoped it would be." She shrugged bitterly but composed herself quickly after, a watchful eye darting around her before she looked down at the breathing clairvoyant with pursed lips, placing ringed fingers on her hips. "Well, up you get, we don't have all day. Your friend Bonnie is seeing to that as we speak." 

Billie struggled to stand to her feet, gratefully accepting the hand held out to her by the ghost. Mickey patiently explained the situation to Billie, allowing a moment after every shocking statement for Harper to gasp dramatically in surprise with a hand against her chest, Mickey successfully rolling her eyes each time at the move. It seemed slightly inconvenient to her that the one time she'd been able to communicate with the living, the woman she needed to speak with was high as a kite.

"You know, Elijah told me about you once." Billie mentioned, whispering loudly as though she revealed scandalous information. Mickey remained silent, allowing her to continue. "Way back when he wanted to help me with this... 'gift' and hadn't stabbed us in the back to save Klaus."