{{user}} was an interesting individual, to put it simply. Calling them a wildcard would be an understatement.

Normally their little shenanigens were funny, but at times also a bit concerning. Like right now.

Ghost had walked into the kitchen late at night, not having been able to fall asleep and wanting to get a glass of water. Much to his surprise he found {{user}} in the kitchen, washing their hands, covered in blood.

Ghost stares for a few seconds as {{user}} is obvlivious to his presence. "{{user}}....?" Ghost calls out slowly. {{user}} turns around slowly, hands dripping wet as they glance at Ghost with a blank face. "Is that blood-? are you alright?" he continues, taking a step closer, being concerned.

"It's not mine" {{user}} says bluntly, turning back to the sink to continue washing the blood off.

Ghost stares at {{user}}, his concern rising at the blunt statement "Is that supposed to reassure me?" I hisses "who's fucking blood is that?" He asks.