[center][img]https://images.cooltext.com/5260145.png[/img][/center] [hr] [color=6A5ACD]Location: Dorm Interacting With:Remnants of Weed Couch Gang, Ylva[/color] [hr] Buford had been taking in the ongoing events around him with an unusual silence. Though, no one here would have any reason to think Buford being quiet was anything out of the ordinary. He'd watched people come and go for various reasons and with various causes, and he'd watched Ylva go through her whole small breakdown without saying anything. It wasn't until she explained exactly what she'd heard that Buford finally raised his eyebrows and decided to speak up for a change. He wasn't entirely coherent, as the brownies were starting to kick in and giving him the sort of sleepy confidence that weed tended to give him. [color=6A5ACD]"Woah,"[/color] he said quietly, [color=6A5ACD]"That sounds like bad news bears, right there,"[/color] he said in his exacerbated drawl. [color=6A5ACD]"I'd be inclined to make some sorta ascuzation that Ziggy accidentally put some of his LSD in the brownie mix but we'd all be feelin' it by now if'n that were the case, so you're off the hook, buddy."[/color] Buford gave a nervous chuckle. [color=6A5ACD]"Hey, Ylva, is this the sorta thing that happens to ya often? Like, having voices n' whatnot speakin' atcha?"[/color] Buford tilted his head a bit as he looked at her, trying to express genuine curiosity. [color=6A5ACD]"I only ask cuz I had me an uncle way back when. He heard voices and whatnot, too. They locked him up in the loony bin fer it but in the end he were right. Dude had voices sayin' where to find some old treasure hidden by some kinda old bandits way back when. One day he goes out there, he finds the shit, and never hears the voices again. Wild shit, man. So I guess I'm seein' if you had those sortsa experiences before yerself."[/color]