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"[color=a0410d]It's all very wrong.[/color]" He could hear himself speaking but he could not quite process the words that were escaping him, they sounded like silent curses. "[color=a0410d]He ah- he never hurt anyone. I couldn't imagine wanting to hurt someone who had done nothing.[/color]" He was no longer afraid of what he was staring at because the longer he looked at it, the more he could detach the idea of it being connected to a person. It [i]wasn't[/i] Stanton any longer. 

Keandre did not much buy the idea of a person in relation to a spirit but if he had, he might have been inclined to believe that as long as a spirit did not inhabit a body, the body no longer belonged to the spirit. This was [i]not[/i] Stanton. The revelation was one he made sense to him, at least in the moment. It gave way to him feeling at [i]ease[/i] with the broken body, the disjointed art piece that had been made of the doctor. He had never much liked art either.

He looked away. 

"[color=a0410d]Je ne comprends pas l'art.[/color]" He murmured before he heard Linda address him, her voice was insistent and quiet. It rather reminded him of his mother, which inspired a fleeting resentment in him. He forced the desire to snap at her down but settled on responding just a touch too sharply. "[color=a0410d]You don't need to take care of me.[/color]" These patterns of quick anger had probably become familiar to Stanton but he had not had as much time to grow on Linda with his whiplash emotions. He didn't need to make a bad situation worse by fighting with someone who sought to help him. 

He choked down the irrational anger, keeping his expression politely impassive. "[color=a0410d]This is not the worst situation I've ever been in.[/color]" This was a lie, it was, in fact, amongst some of the worst situations he'd ever been in. It was [i]dark[/i], it was [i]chaotic[/i], it was too much to thoroughly comprehend in such a short amount of time. He had entirely shut down from whatever flight response he was supposed to have when facing the corpse of a-- 

[i]Would I have called Stanton a mentor or a friend? Not as if it matters now.[/i]

The cops had taken to-- whatever it was cops did in this situation. He had some manner of respect for the quick response from the both of them. He had always sort of liked Russell, but it was a passing respect. He would never have spoken to the man outside of this office. He thought they were probably similar in some manner and that was likely why he hadn't found his presence absolutely disdainful. Serena seemed [i]sharp[/i] but he didn't know that they had much in common, at the very least, she was probably competent at her job with how eager she was to jump on this case. 

Little observations like that did wonders in keeping him calm. What [i]didn't[/i] do wonders in him keeping his cool was the sight of Emily going to dust the strange dark powder along her--- 

[i]Oh, ew.[/i]

This held his attention a moment before Linda offhandedly addressed it. [i]Too late, the girl's gone and ate it. Eugh.[/i] "[color=a0410d]Is there anything I can do to help?[/color]" She seemed a bit overburdened, after all.

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