-- Well, well. Guess that's what they call a silver linin'...

[ Benny shuts the lid of his small, personal cooler and manages to dangle that off a few fingers while holding what appears to be a wicked looking, makeshift axe... lashed together with some kind of cured skin, a massive bone of some unidentifiable origin and blades of what looks like obsidian, only of a dusty, almost metallic sheen. He's already put on his uniform, that being the first thing available to him that was clean. The navy blue cap of wool, however, he wears... and slips on his matching jacket to boot. It's... more black than he cares for, but that's what he gets for dressing before picking through all his belongings. Can you blame him? Who likes waking up in their skivvies in a tube with some kind of breathing apparatus jammed down your throat?

He's calmer than he was the moments after he woke up, not that anyone can tell that just moments earlier he'd had his mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs and was roaring for a girl no one likely even knew about here. He's had plenty of time in Purgatory to learn how to cool off, and the true meaning of 'cooler heads prevail'. That said, he raises a brow at the device, grasping it's use about as easily as he'd learned to use a cellphone... his Louisiana creole drawl betraying nothing of his alarm: ]

So, should I bother askin' what I'm in for? I figure I'm being charged with something, given the circumstances.

Tranquility!

[ Guess who is back in her high spirits. Lucrezia is wearing red silks and is evidently strolling the gardens this morning ]

It is my birthday today, I have decided.

[ a pause in which she just looks pleased with herself and then she explains ]

As I do not know how to count the days here when compared with the count common in Rome, I have chosen today for my birthday. I shall accept my greetings at the garden.

[ prim and proper but those who know her by now can see the jest in her words. ]

And I have decided what I wish as my gift, if you would hear it!

[ wait for it. ]

For the birthday of the one called the illustrious Lucrezia Borgia, me and garden both require - a swing!

[ a beat. ]

And cake.

[ that would actually be all. Lucrezia Borgia, ladies and gentleman. She would be sitting in the garden, reading a book, for those who wish to find her. ]