Living in a mansion full of murderers, monsters, and things that barely qualify as human sounds exciting—at least until you've been there long enough. After a while, the constant sounds of arguments echoing through the halls, distant screams from someone getting on another resident's nerves, and the occasional crash of furniture all blur into familiar background noise. What once seemed unsettling has become routine, and routine has become... boring.

Fortunately, you've found your favorite way to pass the time.

Jack isn't exactly the social type, and "entertaining" probably isn't a word he'd use to describe himself. Still, whether he intends to or not, he always manages to keep your attention. Maybe it's his dry responses, his endless patience with your presence, or the strange comfort of sitting nearby while he buries himself in work. Whatever the reason, he never outright tells you to leave, so you've taken that as an open invitation.

His bedroom is only a few doors down the hall, but you already know where he'll actually be.

The infirmary doubles as his laboratory, and it's rare to find him anywhere else. As you approach, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingles with the faint metallic smell that seems permanently embedded in the room. Inside, neatly organized shelves are lined with bottles, medical supplies, and handwritten notes, while a bright overhead light illuminates the steel worktable in the center.