[For Carol Peletier] I'm not mad, I'm just drawn that way...

[suture_guy]

It might be close to midnight, or at the least, it's late in the evening, the hallways of the Mansion quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Carol might hear the distant clacking of a manual typewriter, coming from behind one closed door. After a moment or so, a man's flat tenor voice can be heard muttering, then footsteps approach, a door can be heard

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[eight_livesleft]

We're not sure where she stands with her daughter - there's been some drama about her nightly escapades to the library.

Still, Carol promised letters to Boyle, and Sophia is sleeping soundly tonight. She just dropped one off, and she's on her way back when she spots the hobbling shadow.

Her old habits come back violently, and she hurries to turn the corner of the corridor, then quietly starts looking for a weapon. The only thing she's found is a stool.

If Stein turns the corner, he might encounter said stool at a greater velocity than expected.

[suture_guy]

The stool whacks him in the mid-thigh and with a surprised and questioning grunt, the lanky figure falls over backwards, ass over tea-kettle, before crashing to the floor. And the metal teakettle he had been carrying goes rolling across the floor, poinking metallically on the tiles before rocking to a rest.

"Umph, must not have seen that, if someone left it there," the figure observes, sitting up, then reaching around on the tiles, looking for his glasses. "Oh, where are they..."

[eight_livesleft]

What the eff. So this wasn't what (or rather, who) she thought it was.

And Carol is now embarrassed - she should have known better, now that she's befriended Boyle.

She finds the glasses, offers them.

"I'm so sorry," she says, "are you alright?"

[suture_guy]

"A little startled, but that will teach me not to get lost in my thoughts when I'm on my way to the kitchen. I've taken worst tumbles than a tussle with an errant stool," the pale guy says, with a humorous lilt, accepting the eyeglasses and slipping them onto his face. "Thanks: I'm short-sighted without them," the odd guy says, rising to his feet. "I'm Doctor Franken Stein."