[ Ben would never intentionally get high, because he is a killjoy has spent much of the last decade and a half of his life watching drugs and alcohol devastate his brother, change him, throw him in all kinds of wretched and dangerous situations. Even before all that had started, though, Ben had never liked not being in control. It had been hammered into him, over and over again, a constant refrain in his upbringing, that control was essential in particular for him. Because there were monsters inside of him, part of him. If he didn't stay vigilant, conduct his life in a prudent and moderate way, those monsters might just mutilate or kill an innocent person, a loved one, lay waste to the whole planet.
So Ben doesn't do drugs, and he doesn't do booze, and he doesn't do letting his guard down all that much, either. He's made some progress on that last front in the time he's been here. He's opened up, a tiny sliver, to a few people who he thinks may become his friends. But there is a huge difference between that and the kind of slurred, distracted honesty that comes over him after he comes in contact with a patch of that algae.
He doesn't yet know about the algae and its effects, so he doesn't understand why his head feels so strange, why his limbs feel heavy and his joints loose, why he is overcome with the sudden need to be around people. Friends, strangers, doesn't much matter to him. He just doesn't feel like being alone. When he's alone, it's too easy to forget that he's corporeal again, that people can see and hear him. So he goes seeking company of any kind... ]
C. Crying at the Wawa (again)
[ It would take a lot more than eerieness and some old bloodstains to discourage Ben from gathering supplies that might be essential for the Anchor's survival. He arrives at that Whole Foods with a huge empty duffel that he'd found in an old lab (it had needed a few runs through a washing machine to get it clean, but oh well). Ben has a mental list, of items that are important. Finally all those lessons on survival in hostile situations might actually be serving some good. But he has another, separate list, too. Little luxuries. Things he knows will make his siblings, and himself, a little happier. Any brightness, in this unpredictable place where all of them are trapped, would be nice.
Ben isn't all that surprised, when he encounters another scavenger, here to make the most of this chance. He lifts a hand in greeting, asks by way of hello: ]
You seen the health and wellness section around here anywhere?
[ He has no sense yet that talking aloud in a regular voice might attract some unwanted attention from the grocery store's undead denizens... ]
Ben Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy | Currently in game
(Please note this whole profile is robot-generated and Ben will be shocked and appalled to discover its existence)
Really needs to date somebody already it's way overdue.
Interests: Books, being alive, other people's business.
Assets: Humor, curiosity, resilience.
Ass-ets: Good hair, nice smile, an abundance of tentacles. 🐙
B. 420 spore it
[ Ben would never intentionally get high, because he
is a killjoyhas spent much of the last decade and a half of his life watching drugs and alcohol devastate his brother, change him, throw him in all kinds of wretched and dangerous situations. Even before all that had started, though, Ben had never liked not being in control. It had been hammered into him, over and over again, a constant refrain in his upbringing, that control was essential in particular for him. Because there were monsters inside of him, part of him. If he didn't stay vigilant, conduct his life in a prudent and moderate way, those monsters might just mutilate or kill an innocent person, a loved one, lay waste to the whole planet.So Ben doesn't do drugs, and he doesn't do booze, and he doesn't do letting his guard down all that much, either. He's made some progress on that last front in the time he's been here. He's opened up, a tiny sliver, to a few people who he thinks may become his friends. But there is a huge difference between that and the kind of slurred, distracted honesty that comes over him after he comes in contact with a patch of that algae.
He doesn't yet know about the algae and its effects, so he doesn't understand why his head feels so strange, why his limbs feel heavy and his joints loose, why he is overcome with the sudden need to be around people. Friends, strangers, doesn't much matter to him. He just doesn't feel like being alone. When he's alone, it's too easy to forget that he's corporeal again, that people can see and hear him. So he goes seeking company of any kind... ]
C. Crying at the Wawa (again)
[ It would take a lot more than eerieness and some old bloodstains to discourage Ben from gathering supplies that might be essential for the Anchor's survival. He arrives at that Whole Foods with a huge empty duffel that he'd found in an old lab (it had needed a few runs through a washing machine to get it clean, but oh well). Ben has a mental list, of items that are important. Finally all those lessons on survival in hostile situations might actually be serving some good. But he has another, separate list, too. Little luxuries. Things he knows will make his siblings, and himself, a little happier. Any brightness, in this unpredictable place where all of them are trapped, would be nice.
Ben isn't all that surprised, when he encounters another scavenger, here to make the most of this chance. He lifts a hand in greeting, asks by way of hello: ]
You seen the health and wellness section around here anywhere?
[ He has no sense yet that talking aloud in a regular voice might attract some unwanted attention from the grocery store's undead denizens... ]