[ooc: backdated to very early in the event, because I want him to...well, not be aware that it's an event yet.]

I could really use somebody to talk to.

[That feeling would be the longing for a moirail, by the way. But unfortunately for any potentials who might decide they want to emotionally support/rein in the mansion's resident surly detective ( Read more... )

Y'know what this is? A big, steamin' load of friggin' bullcrap. Screw it. I ain't playin'!

[ooc: since adult Benny can barely handle the communicators, I don't think he's going to be able to use them at all as a child. So if you want to interact with him, it'll have to be action. He's going to be going through the Mansion from top to bottom, so if you want to assume your character finds him invading their room, or in a hallway, feel free ( Read more... )

[Stango is in the kitchen, in rolled-up shirtsleeves, bent over a skillet. His hair, without its usual layer of pomade, has a slight wave to it, and sticks up at odd angles as a result.

He is making what is probably scrambled eggs. They have the right shape and texture, but they are ashy gray in color ( Read more... )

[Stango is sitting in the kitchen, his chair pushed well back, his feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the edge of the table. He's in his shirtsleeves, his cuffs undone and rolled up, the knot of his tie pulled down. His hat sits far back on his head. Between puffs of his cigarette, he is eating cheap black olives out of a can ( Read more... )

[The room that Stango unwillingly shares with Lamb is empty only for a moment, and then the door slams open and violently closed again, making everything on the nightstand jump. He stalks over to the bed and sits heavily down, elbows on his knees, fingers in his hair. His hands are smeared with blood, thick around and under the nails, and he daubs ( Read more... )

[There's a moment of static, as the feed was turned on by the force of a falling body and knocked away by the same, and the device's innards are a little joggled. After a moment, the image resolves into a fantastic view of...the ground, edged with the bottoms of boxwood hedges, some of their branches broken and hanging to the blood-soaked dirt ( Read more... )