what the hell am I doing here? // Regina!

[lia]

She wasn't entirely sure how she'd ended up...well, wherever here was. She couldn't even tell that much. One moment, she'd been saying her goodbyes, and hitching a ride out of Purgatory, and the next...she was here. Wherever "here" was, anyways. Some sort of house, it seemed like. Or maybe one of those freaky houses that they turned into museums or whatever to be used as monuments...she was thinking that one was more likely, given how...how immaculate the whole place was. Seriously, not a thing out of place, and not a single speck of dust. If she was being honest, it was a little freaky. And coming from a ghost? Yeah, that was saying something.

Her footsteps didn't make any noise as she wandered through the house, taking everything in. Though at this point she was less inclined to call it a house at all. She was leaning more towards...mansion, maybe. Whatever it was, it sure as hell put her one bedroom flat into perspective. Jeez. Whoever lived here must have been loaded. And they apparently had a thing for apples, she noted as she picked one up, tossing it from hand to hand as she continued her grand tour. Another bowl of apples. What. The. Fuck.

So, she was starting to think that whoever lived here was actually a serial killer. Setting the apple down on an end table in a stark, almost entirely black and white themed living room, Lia sighed and flopped down onto the couch. Maybe there was something good on telly. Leaning back she grabbed the clicker, turning it on. Didn't seem like there was anyone home, and hey, if nothing else, maybe a news station could help her figure out where the bloody hell she was. She was immediately jarred, though, by the heavy accent of the first voice she heard. The heavy American accent. "Oh, tell me I'm at least in England, please," she groaned to herself, hesitantly changing the channel, once, twice, three times, met with the same result on every channel. Great. Just bloody brilliant. Could she even rent-a-ghost across oceans?

"Maybe I'm in Hell," she commented dryly, almost trying to reassure herself. Yeah, that seemed just about accurate, really. She'd meant to get out and head back to Bristol...not to an entirely different country!

[Regina Mills]

Things were rather tense in Storybrooke, these days. Regina was quite certain that her presence in town only contributed to that, although she'd gradually grown to care less and less. As far as she was concerned, the townspeople could throw her all the dirty looks and mutter under their breath all they liked, because spending the rest of her life hiding from them wasn't really an option. Especially when she had Cora to deal with - and was quickly running out of ideas as far as how to actually go about dealing with her.

She'd spent the earlier part of the day consulting Jefferson on the matter - apart from her, he was the one who probably knew her mother the best - but although speaking to him had made her feel a little better, at least, neither of them had been able to come up with much. It was rather wearily that she made her way back home - to a house that was most likely empty, at this time in the afternoon. Henry still wasn't staying with her full-time, and Mithos...well, she wasn't really sure where he spent most of the day. She'd refrained from questioning him too much, not wanting to hover - he had enough to deal with right now, and as young as he was, she knew he was accustomed to taking care of himself.

So it was with some surprise, when Regina walked into the foyer, that she registered voices coming from somewhere in the house. Walking briskly down the hallway, she pinpointed their location - the living room - and realized what it must have been. The...television? That was odd. She had never once seen Mithos watching television, even after she'd explained how it worked to him - and Henry was supposed to be with Emma. Had something happened? Had he come home early? Frowning, she made her way into the living room and hesitated only briefly before walking over to the television and turning it off. Silence hung over the room in its place - and though she couldn't place what it was, exactly, something most definitely felt...off.

"Henry?" Regina called, turning around and quirking her head a little to one side as she listened for a response. Really, he should know better than to leave the TV on when he wasn't watching it...but she received no answer. Furrowing her brow a little, she cast a...slightly more wary, scrutinizing glance around the room, checking to see whether anything was out of place. Her gaze fell upon the apple placed on the end table. Well. That certainly wasn't supposed to be there, and she knew both of the children living with her knew better than to move things around or leave a mess - not that either of them would have any desire to anyway, where apples were concerned. Henry had to practically be forced into eating anything healthy, and it was hard enough to get Mithos to eat anything at all. She stiffened slightly.

Someone else had been in here.

[lia]

Though she did raise her brows at the sound of someone coming into the freakishly large mansion, Lia wasn't particularly worried. First of all, they had footsteps, so it definitely wasn't another ghost. And beyond that, well, she figured the odds of her having ended up in the house of a vampire or a werewolf were pretty much slim to none. After all, despite her death at the hands -- or rather, fangs -- of a vampire, they were still a fairly rare breed, overall. And considering how most of them weren't too fond of playing pretend...well, she doubted if they'd live in a place so lavish as this. And even if she had been dumped in the house of someone who could see her, well, it wasn't really like they could do anything to her, was it? She was already dead, and there were sure as hell (no pun intended) no doors around that she could be forced through. Besides, she had been...well, not exactly a VIP in purgatory, but she had been a part of the bureaucracy there. After all, it wasn't often they got souls that were ready and willing to not only linger in Purgatory of all places, but play the long game with them.

Even the men with sticks and ropes had started to scare her less and less as time went on. That being said, a little less than shit scared was still shit scared. No, aside from them, there really wasn't much of anything left in this world, or any other that would frighten her. Certainly not some middle aged homeowner of the year award winner, that much was damn sure. As the footsteps got closer, Lia eventually shifted her attention away from the telly -- some absolutely rubbish version of "Big Brother" or something similar, maybe -- craning her neck to see who had entered the room.

Wow.

Okay, so maybe 'middle aged' had been a bit too harsh, she realized, turning properly where she sat upon the woman's couch, taking in the woman whose house she was currently...well, for lack of a better word, haunting. She was beautiful, in a sort of cold, perfect, no-nonsense sort of way. The type of woman that Lia would have either been in awe of, or intimidated as all hell by had she been human. As it was now, though, now that she knew the way that the world worked...the way it really was, well, the simple fact of the matter was that no human would ever scare her again. Hell, it was pretty damn unlikely that any werewolves of vampires would ever have the pleasure either.

Giving the woman a once over, she noted the confused, mildly disturbed look on her face as she looked around. Probably wondering how the telly got turned on in an empty house. No sooner had Lia though that, then the woman had made her way over, clicking it off. She huffed. Even if she hadn't been enjoying the show, she had still been watching it. "Oi," she griped, though being a ghost, her complaints fell on deaf ears. "I was watching that." As soon as the woman turned her head, apparently more interested in the apple Lia had left on the side table than the TV, Lia rolled her eyes, and not even bothering with the pretense of the clicker this time, just...turned it back on. She had picked up a few useful tricks when she had been in purgatory, after all.

Giving the woman a cheeky grin, Lia settled right back into her place on the sofa, watching some woman spill her guts about how she hated her housemates or something equally rubbish, though still vaguely entertaining. "Much better."

[Regina Mills]

Despite the fact that she'd cast the dark curse, despite the fact that she'd taken away twenty-eight years of these people's lives, and despite the fact that all of this was common knowledge...Regina somehow doubted that anyone in Storybrooke was brave - or angry - enough to actually abruptly decide to break into her home. And why now, of all times? Things had just started to settle down. Something about all of this was distinctly off, though she refused to let it get to her just yet.

Even when the television behind her switched back on, she managed to keep from visibly bristling, the slight clenching of her jaw being the only indicator that her displeasure was rising. Clearly, whoever or whatever was behind all of this - and there was no doubt that she wasn't simply being paranoid now - found the whole thing very funny. Regina, however, was less than amused, and hardly in any mood to deal with this ridiculousness right now. The fact was, however, the remote hadn't been touched this time. It was right there, on the couch, unmoved from where it had been when she'd last glanced at it. But what other explanation was there, apart from the TV being broken (which, all other things considered, Regina highly doubted was the case)? Magic, perhaps? But there weren't very many people in town who had magic, and of the few that did, she was only on particularly negative terms with Cora and Mr. Gold. The former would hardly waste her time on something as foolish as this, and the latter currently had little to gain from involving her in his tricks.

But while at first glance the room seemed empty, the distinct, vaguely disconcerting feeling that she was not alone was only becoming more noticeable by the minute. Someone trying to pay some petty joke - or whatever this was - was one thing. Them bringing it into her home, however, was a whole new level of absolutely unacceptable. This was an environment where Henry could get involved - and him being threatened was something she would not tolerate. ...Unfortunately, right now this wasn't really a problem she knew how to solve, considering that she didn't even know exactly what the problem was. Being kept in the dark, unable to act with any real certainty, was not something that ever sat well with Regina. Today was no exception.

She glanced over her shoulder briefly, narrowing her eyes. There was really no point in turning the television off again if the same thing was going to happen - lowering herself to such childishness was a waste of her time. She'd much rather deal with this directly, if whoever had invaded her home would just show themselves. After another moment of silence, Regina pointedly cleared her throat. "I know you're here," she stated flatly after a moment, her expression calm but cold. "There's really no sense in hiding. Who are you?" She didn't exactly expect a straight answer - not yet, anyway, but perhaps some sort of reaction would give her more to go on, here.

[lia]

Well. Now Lia couldn't decide what was more interesting: the woman this house seemed to belong to, or the telly. Truth be told, neither was exactly clear cut winner, both being...fairly normal and mundane. Though as she turned the TV back on without so much as touching the remote, her eyes had strayed back to the woman, curious as to how she would respond in spite of herself. And what she got was...well, really a huge disappointment. Barely even a reaction. How boring.

Or maybe it should be considered interesting because she didn't react? Lia wasn't really sure. All she did know was the fact that this woman definitely couldn't see her. After all, if she'd been the type that could see, or even just hear, ghosts, this whole situation would have played out rather differently. Didn't hurt that she'd also looked straight through Lia a few times already. Either she was some sort of brilliant actress, or she really was just human. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Being human, that was. Honestly, in Lia's opinion, it was the best thing to be. Vampires, well, they may live forever, but then, sooner or later, they all turn out to be monsters. Every last one of them.

And then you had your werewolves, like George and Nina and the two McNairs that had turned up not so long ago -- oh, yes, she'd been watching all of them, keeping an eye on Mitchell in particular. Werewolves may only have to deal with their "condition" once a month, but she had seen first hand how much it haunted their day to day lives. George had called it a "part time" thing, but that wasn't really true. After all, being what he was, he could see ghosts, and recognize vampires, and really, it was all just the knowledge of what was really truly out there in the world, and the knowledge of what you had become, and what you were capable of doing to someone, that really broke them.

And ghosts.

The poor, unfortunate souls who had died, but been left behind by death. The ones with unfinished business, and no way to take care of it. The ones who may as well have been in Hell wherever they went, who couldn't interact with the world at large, who had to just sit back and watch while everyone else got to continue on. Keep bloody living, changing, growing, existing, while they were stuck. Invisible, silent, stagnant. Forever.

No, human was without a doubt the best thing that someone could be.

She could tell that the woman knew something was off, though. And, well, let's be real. Dead and invisible or not, ghosts tended to give off...a bit of a creepy vibe. Most people didn't really pay it much mind at all, and honestly, Lia was pretty sure this woman wouldn't have been any exception to the rule, had she not noticed things were amiss. And the whole... magically turning on telly. But still.

Heaving a sigh, Lia arched a brow at the other woman as she clenched her jaw, the muscles there working visibly below the skin. She was sure Mitchell would have a field day with her. Pausing, she cocked her head to the side. "Actually, no, strike that. Pretty sure you're not his type." It didn't particularly matter to Lia that she couldn't be heard, at least not in this context, and it certainly wasn't going to stop her talking. It was one of the little comforts she afforded herself with. And every once in awhile, it could even be fun, snarking at the living with no chance of getting called out on it. "Unlike most of his 'conquests,'" she started, eying the living woman up and down, taking in every detail of her appearance a second time, a little more intently now that she was that much closer. "You've actually got class." With a little sigh, the ghost shifted, curling her legs under herself, and raking her fingers through her hair. "Don't really strike me as the type to swoon at the whole...mysterious bad-boy thing either."

Her gaze flickered to the TV for a moment, before she refocused on the woman. "I'd apologize for crashing into your home uninvited and all that, but you know," she trailed off with a shrug. Just like everything else she'd said, the apology would go unheard. And that said, well, it's not like it would have been genuine or sincere or anything either. Aside from general confusion on how she had ended up an entire ocean away from her intended destination, Lia didn't really give a damn about the whole dropping in uninvited thing. She would make her way back to Bristol soon enough, she was certain. But for now? Well, it wasn't like she had anything better to do than hang about here and watch the telly. Even if it was all rubbish American programing. Ugh. She'd been hoping to catch the Real Hustle, too.

And then, there it was. Finally, a bit of acknowledgment from her mysterious host. A quick glance at the TV, eyes narrowed. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. And then she was clearing her throat, which just had the ghost rolling her eyes. It was almost like this woman thought that she was the invisible one, rather than Lia. "You realize I can see you, right?" she questioned dryly, "it's the other way 'round that doesn't quite work."

"I know you're here"

Well, if that timing wasn't a bit eerie, nothing was. 'couse, it was almost guaranteed that the woman didn't actually realize that she was having a conversation -- no matter how one sided it was destined to seem -- with a ghost. Probably thought she was dealing with a regular home invasion, or a silly trick or something. Though if that was the case, you'd think she would have been a bit more...concerned maybe? A bit freaked out? Oh god. Maybe she really was a serial killer. It would explain why she was still so calm and collected in the face of a definitely not so great situation. Shit.

At her next words, for juuuuust a split second, Lia was almost afraid for her life. Then reality came and slapped her in the face with the fact that -- oh yes, that's right: she didn't have one. Not anymore. Exhaling in a huff, Lia folded her arms over her chest, giving the woman a look of pure defiance. "I'm not hiding. It's not my fault you can't see me." Though maybe she should...give the woman some sort of sign that she was there. It would save her some potential anxiety over wondering who was in her house -- in a sense, at least -- and if nothing else, it could always be funny to watch her freak out. What to do, though... Clearly the TV turning on 'on its own' hadn't been enough for her to get the point, so she would have to do something a bit more...drastic if she really wanted to get the woman's attention. Glancing around the room, the ghost's gaze settled on one of the rather expensive looking throw pillows scattered -- with perfect precision, of course -- about the couches and chairs in the room. Yes, that would do quite nicely.

Without so much as a moment's hesitation, Lia reached out, grabbing one of the pillows, and tossing it lightly in the woman's direction. There was no real force behind the gesture, so even if it did manage to hit her full on in the face, it wouldn't hurt. It would still be funny as hell, though. And serve the purpose of making her presence known.