💫 Collection 💫

1. The girls are fighting

The empty noise of their blood trying to access the brain was deafening, ears ringing as Ghost slowly emerged. Rashes of decaying trash, smoke and various body odors started to harass their nose, as a loud reminder of where they ended up. 

They rose up from the pile of cushion, pain in every muscle as they almost tripped over a few bottles, trying to look for anything to cover their bottom parts. Preferably something that belonged to them. 

Considering Ghost was pretty homeless for a few months now, it was ironic how much they hated not having a home. A place to be safe and clean, as everything who belonged to someone else felt dirty and misplaced. For now, they only had shady hookups as a way to find a warm place to sleep at. 

If you'd ask them, they could never retell you who's place this was, even though it's been almost a week. Ghost had found people, this group of musicians, trying to rock it into the lamest nightclubs of Paris. They really looked the part, same fashion, same style, maybe these people were a bit more social than the ghost hunter. Probably why they got to stay in exchange they just had to temporarily replace the fallen guitarist. 

And as a perfect stereotype these people didn't really do much but party, drink, do drugs, do sex. The younger carefree life. 

Finally putting some pants on, Ghost took the time to light up a cigarette, sitting back on some broken sofa. They gazed at the area, trying really hard to focus their mind into remembering what was even their belongings.

They collected their jacket back, in between a few bodys laying around, some dared to groan as if the movement was already too much of an annoyance. Finally, they went outside, in need of clear oxygen. 

The fresh air hit their skin in full force, the sun being too bright and the cars too loud. 

From there, they had no idea where to go, as always. They'd usually let their feet follow whatever magic kept bringing them to that unforgivable duty they had. At least it kept them alive.

After what felt an eternity of walking aimlessly, they glared unconvinced at the sign. 

[ From the smallest to the biggest.
New temporary exposition at the Gallery of Evolution ! ]

It wasn't the first time they had to look for a spirit in a public space. Yet, Thavach was no Paris and with that crowd, Ghost had no motivation for going in. 

They still went in the queue, wondering if with that smell the museum would let them in. 

*** 

For an hour they had to go through the many floors of the gallery, trying to sense at each cornor if a presence was there. A screaming baby, someone knocking into them, a loud conversation, kids running around, everything was here to disturb them.

The various stuffed animals were sometimes disturbing to watch, you'd get that feeling that something was misplaced in the conservation process. Other times, it was almost like having the real one in front of you, yet they weren't interested more than that. If they wanted to see dead animals, they'd follow Death around. 

At one point, Ghost just gave up, sitting in a corner, their stomach starting to feel tight. They sighed, thinking about the emptiness of that bank account. Their head fell backwards, fluffy hairs hanging freely, eyes closing as they took a moment to try and relax. 

While the sounds slowly started to fade, they felt the chair falling backwards, as it followed the movement. Only when they tried to jerk up straight again, their whole body ended up absorbed, flashing through the floors as they inevitably hit the last one. 

Ghost opened their eyes again, still in the chair and well but a bit shaken. When their purple gaze ended up faced with a familiar silhouette. 

Speaking of Death.