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[hauntedcalamari]

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Resist the Call breach

[mothmansplaining]

[Late one evening, Ben will hear someone knocking on his door. It is too hard to be a businesslike rap. It's the kind of righteous indignation that usually comes from neighbors who have complained about the noise to you twice already and are one more warning away from calling the cops on your party.]

[hauntedcalamari]

[Ben is only half moved in, his apartment marked by several stacks of boxes and the sort of furniture that you really can't get by without for long. He'd normally be a bit more cautious about random knocking, but he doesn't have his bearings here yet. Could be the landlord or something. He opens the door with no air of defnensiveness, youngish with bland dress sense and a slightly aimless air]

Um. Hi?

[mothmansplaining]

Did you hire a private detective to come after my family?

[Cutting right to the chase here.]

[hauntedcalamari]

[For all Ben's carefully cultivated normality, he's sharp as his oddly conical canines would suggest. He makes very quick calculations here, risk minimization and best outcomes for what he actually wants here (and no small irritation at discovering he hired a pretty bad detective).

He cuts to the chase, too.]

I hired a private detective to try to find my family.

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford narrows his eyes.

Is this guy looking for the Pineses? Or...]

...let me see your teeth.

[hauntedcalamari]

[This actually takes a moment of resolution, despite the fact that it was his desired outcome. He's very used to hiding this. At first because his grandparents made him, and then because it was just habit, reinforced by their denial, the easy answer that he was the crazy one. But after a moment he pulls his teeth back in an awkward grimace. The incisors are passable enough that he doesn't have to talk funny, but the further back, the better suited for snatching fish.]

[mothmansplaining]

[The teeth tell him about as much as the kid not questioning why Ford is asking about teeth.]

...

...okay. I'm willing to hear you out. But not out here. Anyone could be listening.

Backdated to just after the end of the breach

[credere]

Ben--

Are you alright?

[First things first.]

[hauntedcalamari]

Basically fine, what's up?

[With no illusions it'll be something good given this starting point.]

[credere]

Klaus has....gone. Disappeared.

[hauntedcalamari]

[Silence. Then-]

Fuck.

[credere]

Yes.

Do you - do you know what's going to happen to him?

[hauntedcalamari]

[A deep breath to gather his thoughts.]

Yeah, I mean, I think so. He didn't die when he thought he did. Before he came here, I mean. He got back up after that and shit kept happening. But that buys him... not a lot more time. The world's still fucking ending.

Common Workplace Hazards Breach

[krakenthecase]

((following this))

The very second he leaves the diner, Renfield makes a beeline for the nearest payphone. His hands shake as he fishes out the coins and shoves them in. Ringing noises, usually so pleasant, sound like buzzing wasps in his ear.

"Hi, do you want to go to Wyoming with me? I have tickets." Renfield asks once Ben answers. All out in a rush. He's jumpy, more than usual, having a tsunami of pot, caffeine, and easily excitable anxiety flooding his system all at once.

[hauntedcalamari]

There are a lot of questions here. Usually (though there's not much of a usually, knowing the man so little time) that happens because Renfield has asked six or eight in quick succession, but the sensation is about the same. He can only hold one at a time. "What's in Wyoming?"

[krakenthecase]

"I very literally have no idea. Something called a 'yellow stone', I think?" He taps on the metal casing surrounding the phone. It helps alleviate some of his overabundance of energy. "I... I know this is sudden. My brother offered and he doesn't--he wouldn't do this ordinarily--" His worry seeps into that word, the emotions from the prior meeting still overwhelming his capacity to think rationally.

[hauntedcalamari]

He has a general idea of the brother as an important figure, if only financially. "It's a... surprise trip to Yellowstone?" Of course that sounds nice. It just sounds deeply suspicious, too, and not in a fun, curiosity-filled basement kind of way.

[krakenthecase]

"Yes, and he can't tell me why. Or come with which I'm really, really freaking out about, as I feel like we're at that level of total and complete honesty. It's... why I wanted you along." His fingers move from tapping on metal to twisting in the phone cord. "W-we're friends, right?"

[hauntedcalamari]

Ben is very aware he has a bit more friend experience than Renfield. He's been on a quest to enter a world of the strange and interesting and artfully counter-cultural that his counterpart swims in like a salmon at sea. He has to work hard not to be normal.

So while he has so, so many more questions, the only fair thing to say right now is, "Right," as though that were a settled question. Might as well double check the door's locked when you're already sure. Just in case.

"So it's not that he thought it'd relax you to go look at some geysers and bears."

Text; pre-Languages Flood

[deliciouspromises]

{Written as ever in his flowing, but legible, calligraphy.}

I was going to visit your cabin, before I realized I did not know which one it actually was. I wish to convey my gratitude, once more, over the alterations to my own cabin. The pets and art selections were a welcome surprise. I do believe, "Big Ben", we have a... "movie date" scheduled? If I am using the modern parlance correctly?

[hauntedcalamari]

[Ben gets into the spirit of the thing. He's no calligrapher, but his handwriting is tidy, and he slips his note under Ren's door just for fun in what he imagines is a very Victorian manner. The art room even provided wax for a seal, though he was stuck with a generic stamp. He's not taking the joke far enough to actually bespeak a fake coat of arms just for this. Though it might be funny later. He's sure as fuck not using an umbrella or a six, but there might be potential in some writhing tentacles...]

In modern parlance, I believe you're looking for "movie night," but it's not that important. I'm in 215 and I do have a TV, though we could also grab a common room if you prefer.

Cordially, etc.
Benjamin Hargreeves, esquire

[He's very sure he's not using "esquire" right but he refuses to fix it.]

[deliciouspromises]

{Renfield had been cleaning out the habitat when he heard something under his door. Well, that was odd. Dabbing his hands on the towel over his shoulder, he makes his way over to investigate.

This was familiar, and strangely... touching? He didn't understand the swell of emotion within him at his cordial gesture. He shakes his head. It was cute, an attempt to curry favor perhaps, nothing more. But, he's determined to match, or even best, this odd man at his own game.

He also pilfers from the art room, utilizing its fancier paper for his writings. The wax seal, unfortunately, is the same, given the limited availability.}

Dear Ben:

Your room would suffice for these purposes. You've seen mine twice over, technically, and I'll admit a fair bit of curiosity to where you reside away from the barge's oppressive monotony. I am of course available at all hours for this activity, whenever is suitable for you.

Sincerely,
Thomas Renfield

{Topping his friend's delivery method, Renfield sets the envelope on Ben's doorknob, carefully balanced.}

[hauntedcalamari]

[Well, not it is officially a thing. He's going to have to get that seal, apparently. Maybe there's an arty person around who can make a stamp for him.

His invitation can't really be escalated, unfortunately. Handwritten notes are the peak of his abilities.]

Let's say after dinner tomorrow. I'll acquire popcorn. It occurs to me you may not do popcorn. I don't actually know. I think roasted ants are also an established movie snack someplace, but it's kind of short notice. Next time.

I remain,
Benjamin Hargreeves

[Are all his sign-offs from Jane Austen novels? They are. That's at least half a century too early, but he's having too much fun. Ben just slips this one under the door again.]

[deliciouspromises]

{He has to wrack his brain to recall what 'popcorn' even was. Those breach memories, apart from a certain dark room, were fading more and more each day. The thought of roasted ants makes him glance guiltily at his roaches and tuck away the letter lest they somehow gain knowledge their benefactor had nefarious insect snack plans.

Instead of escalating, he does the opposite, and pens something through his notebook which, thanks to the barge's magical means, is tied to the network.}

Perfect. Popcorn would be lovely indeed. I will see you then.

{Immediately after, he'll frantically pester his roommate for advice on What To Wear On This Special Not-Date.}

[time passes]

[hauntedcalamari]

[When Ben answers the door--alas for Renfield's fashion preparations--in sweats, hoodie, and bedroom slippers. There's also a bowl of popcorn in hand. His movie night reference is the rare occasion he got to hang out with his siblings under relatively quiet circumstances. He appreciates comfort.]

Hey. I found both movies, for the record, so if the first is a hit we can keep going.

[He steps aside, revealing the ridiculously campy opulence beyond.]