[Introduction] I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell...

[rubberbaby_bump]

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[vial_o_zydrate]

Should Vivien wander into the common room, she'll find a very odd looking fellow, hanging around, feet on the coffee table, reading tabloids and nibbling on something that looks like licorice.

She's free to gape at GraveRobber.

[rubberbaby_bump]

She's likely just coming into the main room, carrying a cup of tea and a plate with a couple ham sandwiches, when she pauses in her tracks, eying what looks like a grungy gothic-glam rocker lounging about. She might chuckle a bit at his appearance: she knew her share of wacky musicians during her college days, and he brings back memories. "Any good news?" she asks.

[vial_o_zydrate]

"Depends what you call good news. Or news in general. Something about a tsunami in India, and an earthquake in Japan."

He waves a copy of a newpaper at her.

"Ah! And some boy star is in love with some girl actress. Sparklyboy."

[rubberbaby_bump]

"Yeah, I'd heard about the trouble in Japan: sort of took a backseat since I'd had some family trouble," she says, sitting down opposite him and setting her plate on a coffee table. "I can see why some people get obsessed with celebrity hijinks, though: gets your mind onto some drama that isn't your own."

[vial_o_zydrate]

"It's a social commentary, really," GraveRobber replies. "Watch them get at it, you'll learn more than you care to know."

Ganking wifi from a cafe for a quick round...

[rubberbaby_bump]

"Yeah, I just got here from Los Angeles, after living in Boston most of my life," she admits. "One extreme to the other: I went from the Athens of America to ...Tinseltown," she adds, trying not to shake her head. After all, the house her family moved into was at the end of a "Murder Tour".

[vial_o_zydrate]

"And from Tinseltown to the Mansion," GraveRobber goes on. "This won't be sparkly, though - but it's not that bad, on most days."

[rubberbaby_bump]

"I could use something less sparkly: Tinseltown has its dark side to it, as well," she admits.

[vial_o_zydrate]

"Most towns do," GraveRobber lilts, "anywhere you have sparkles, you can expect darkness too."

[rubberbaby_bump]

"Had a bit more than my share," she says. "The house that my family and I had moved into was on the end of a murder tour: I heard more about the place's dark history than I really cared to know."

[vial_o_zydrate]

GraveRobber can't help but smirk, he's thinking of the graveyard, and the underground crypt with all the bodies...

"Feeling a bit squeamish, ha?"

[rubberbaby_bump]

"Yeah, some of it was pretty bad," she says, understating it. "In fact, the couple that owned the house a few months before my husband and I moved in...they were murdered and the killer was never found."

[vial_o_zydrate]

"Sounds lovely," GraveRobber drawls. "Happy to be out?"

[rubberbaby_bump]

"Yeah, I'm starting to wonder if the house isn't cursed or something," she says.

[vial_o_zydrate]

For some reason, GraveRobber finds this hilarious, and breaks out in song.

"Welcome to your home
The house of fucking freaks where you belong!
Welcome home!"

Despite the lyrics, he's very weirdly joyful - and a great dancer.

[ From House of Curse and Freak - The Monroes ]

[rubberbaby_bump]

That makes her chuckle, and it brings back memories of the actors and singers she knew in college, the impromptu song and dance bits they'd put on, when the gang was out on the town. And the lyrics fit the house that she just left, with all its bizarreness and its coterie of weird hangers-on.