[Introduction] This truth drives me into madness/I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away...

[suture_guy]

Maybe it was the lighting, Stein thought, as he stared somewhat blankly at the screen of his desktop, at the new design he was devising, a replacement headbolt to counteract the increasing bouts of madness he was experiencing. Marie had been after him to "cheer up" his living space, adding more lights and hints of color, and while he was inclined

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[binkypowah]

We figure the best person to invite him is someone similar to Death the Kid. (Only FAR less anal.) Koenma is busy floating around the hallway until he spots someone laid out on the floor of the library. He floats under Stein looking down at him.

"You okay?"

Yes thats a wise old mans voice coming out a toddlers throat.

[suture_guy]

The newcomer stares up at Koenma, not even blinking as he reaches to adjust his glasses. "I think so, at least physically," he says. "Mentally, I'm not so sure. I could have sworn I was in my lab a moment ago." The energy here doesn't feel like the energy of Death City, but it doesn't feel like the human world either.

"Where am I?"

[binkypowah]

"You're in a place known as 'The Mansion'. It's different from any sort of world or afterlife that is known. At least to me." The Little God answers.

[suture_guy]

"The Mansion? I suppose the next question could be 'whose mansion?', but that's another question for another time," he says, staring up at the infant hovering over him. "A better question is, Who, or what are you?" Typist willing, to his senses, there's something vaguely reminiscent about Lord Death, but it's likely quite *different*.

[gettin2old4this]

Ki users represent! :D

In the kitchen, there's a teensy old woman at the kitchen counter getting some tea. She's not paying any attention to Stein much.

[suture_guy]

He still hasn't made that pot of tea, and on finding his way about the place, he'll see about it.

Her energy signature makes him take note, and he'll turn to look at her.

"My, that's a strong soul wavelength," he murmurs

[gettin2old4this]

If Genkai was in the Soul Eater universe, we think she would be a meister or a former weapon on Stein's level, if not more. (In the AU in this typists head, she's one of the pioneers of attacking directly with one's soul.) Her eyes furrow in in thought and she turns her head to him.

"Sounds like you're in the know... you're not ordinary yourself."

[suture_guy]

"No, I suppose I'm not any kind of ordinary by most people's standards," he replies, rummaging in a cupboard, glancing back at her. "What shelf does the staff keep the tea on?" he asks.

Non-sequiter tea request.

this typist does NOT want to think what might happen if we got a Asura here. O_O

[scalpedsociety]

We imagine this might be the start of a very... interesting kinship in the mansion.

If Stein bothers to come around the main room he'll come across a small, messy haired woman taking a small nap in a chair with a copy of Grey's Anatomy on her lap. She spent a long night with her brother helping him in the lab so she's kinda tired.

Come to think of it, Morgoth is a lot like Asura... o.o;

[suture_guy]

Grey's Anatomy: one of his favorite books, when he was just strong enough to pick it up and leaf through it. He can't help smiling ever so slightly and pausing beside her chair

"Looks like you've found some light reading. Enjoying it?" a slightly deadpan voice might ask.

And if she looks up... she'll spot a highly singular-looking man, stitches angled across his pale face and a large bolt through his brainpan, eyeing the book through the lenses of his eyeglasses.

[scalpedsociety]

In the haze that often comes after opening one's eyes after a snooze, Aramat mistakes Stein for her beloved Brother for some seconds. "Brother?" But once the images come through, it becomes obvious that this man isn't her brother. But he sure looks like him, a more scruffy him. Still rather attractive though, those stitches actually add to it too. Her dull hazel eyes may blink some more.

"I'm sorry... you look like someone dear to me." She may clutch the textbook.

"Yes. To tell the truth, I like reading books like to keep my mind sharp. I'm a amateur anatomist."

[suture_guy]

He certainly looks like a less well-groomed version of another pale scientist: typist took a fan art of him for an off-model Muraki, till typist noticed That Headbolt.

A ghost of amusement flicks across the newcomer's quiet face. "I was about to say, I don't recall having a sister, unless my father had a daughter he didn't know about," he says.

"Well, I hope you have room here for a fellow anatomist: I'm a professional one. I'm Dr. Franken Stein."

[tomboy_22]

The patio is a place where Anita does hang out rather regularly, even when the weather is fresher - and so she might be found there later, cleaning her gun. She's calm, life is not bad, and she finds herself overall zen.

She has no idea that another dose of wtf is on the way for her.

[suture_guy]

Stein isn't much of an outside person, but he's still getting a feel for this very strange place, and thus he's ventured out onto the patio, hands thrust into the deep pockets of his lab coat, cigarette in mouth. He may gaze off into the distance, trying to read the energy of this place, when he realizes he's not alone.

"Caring for your weapon?" he asks. Though in his world, since Weapons are human-like beings who can shape-shift into literal weapons (usually bladed), caring for the analogue involves cooking them dinner.

[tomboy_22]

"Normal thing to do if you intend to keep using it," Anita replies, shrugging.

The truth is, she's been sparing her amunition - she avoids using the plothole for such things, knowing full well that it tends to backfire when it is abused.

She's not going to go another year living on rabbit.

Fucking stringy meat, is her assessment of it.

[suture_guy]

"Ain't that the truth," he says, agreeably. "Though I'm more of a blade user myself: guns were never my thing. I might just be old-fashioned," he adds, self-deprecatingly.

[ninja_niko]

It might be a good time to wander into the kitchen, if one wants to see a health nut hard at work. Niko is back into one of his blending phases.

This means that he found a very vintage blender, fixed it, and that he is now pressing into it some broccoli, zucchini, milk, eggs, and a side of tofu.

Oh, yes, this is going to be rather odd.

He insists, though. THIS IS GOOD FOR YOU, mmmkay?

[suture_guy]

He's likely back in the kitchen, looking for something a bit more substantial than tea, when he spies the young man quiddling with the blender, and the cigarette that's perpetually dangling from his lips might change angle as he purses his mouth, puzzled by the... mixture.

"Into health food, I see?" he asks, deadpan, but curious. And if Niko looks up to find the source of the query, he'll find a very *singular* looking fellow eyeing the blender.

[ninja_niko]

What Niko sees, actually, is a smoker.

He opens the window, and says, "Into health, in general."

His tone is reserved and quiet.

Sorry, Franken. He thinks you stink.

Typist, being a smoker, finds this rather strange, being on the other side of the barrier...

[suture_guy]

Knowing Stein, he'd probably chuckle at that notion: he's used to people finding him weird or unsavory. "Something I can relate to: I'm an anatomist myself," he says.

Typist doesn't smoke, but certainly doesn't mind people who do, and finds it highly amusing that she's picked up characters who smoke!