[ [ despite her bemusement, lucy is used to taking in a lot of information while her head is pounding and nerves are crawling up her spine. that's what ghost hunting is, essentially, especially since it is up to Talented youth to expel and remove ghosts. she's sixteen, it shouldn't be up to children to rid the british isles of ghosts and yet she's been an agent since she was eight years old, advancing to her grade three certificate by the time she was eleven.

so far she's not seen lockwood or george and she's not seen a single biscuit, which she may be more desperate for. not because she's hungry, but because she wants something to nibble on from the stress of it all. there is no tea either, so she's really at a disadvantage here.

she frowns, looking around. ]

Are we meant to do this unarmed? Without any supplies? [ she asks no one, thinking aloud. ]

[ lucy's Sight is poor. (her eyesight is fine, no need for glasses, but sometimes it feels like the ghosts have to be right on top of her or oozing blood from the ceiling to see them so it's best not to say she can see them even if she can. sometimes.)

like now, with blood pooling beneath the tub, drip, drip, dripping over the edge of the porcelain, splattered across the tile and the ripped curtain. it's like the aftermath of the scene in psycho. she doesn't have anything to defend herself; no rapier, no irons, no salt bombs, no lockwood.

just herself and the ghost rising from the tub like she's come right from the drain, hair lank, a type two, a spectre, clear and defined. even if lucy couldn't see her, and she can, she very much can, she can hear the woman when the ghost begins to speak. lucy's Talent is Listening and even as she backs out of the room, knowing better to engage with a ghost on her own, with no weapons, nothing to protect herself, she can't help but Listen. ]

Sorry, you watched someone give birth? [ how is that relevant, ma'am! ]

[ lucy doesn't dare go into the dungeons, not properly, not when she can linger at the edge of the corridor, listening. Listening. ]

Oh, I think Flo would be much more suited to this, [ lucy whispers, fingers playing at a delicate necklace with clear nerves. the undead lords should have picked a relic-man over an agent, they have no fear. ]

( go where your heart takes you, lucy is a nosy, teenager ghost hunter who resents adult supervision but is also very out of her depth! hit me up at plurk (baleinette) or discord (dostoevskyish) if you want something special xoxo )