Fuck if he's had anything to do lately, so Dave's been bored out of his mind and tearing through every scrap of activity the mansion's offered when he's been able to find any. Odd sleeping schedule keeps him distracted and lack of a way out of here's made him antsy.

At the moment he's glaring at a find from the attic: an accordion, old and rusty and dusty and not altogether intact. He's either going to try to play it or try to destroy it.

While he won't show it, he'd love it if someone distracted him.