Whaddaya Buyin? (Ethan Winters’ House, Please)

Whaddaya Buyin? (Ethan Winters’ House, Please)
This is not Etan Winters' house! (Screenshot: Capcom)

My partner and I have been looking for our dream home, and I think we found it. It’s somewhere in Eastern Europe — possibly Romania — it’s probably owned by a shady government agency, and I have it on good authority that its previous occupants won’t be coming back any time soon. I’m talking about Ethan Winters’ house in Resident Evil Village.

Scrolling through hundreds of houses on Zillow week after week has infected my partner and I with a kind of “house hypervigilance” in which we’re unable to look at any domicile without thinking, “Hmm, wonder if we can afford this place?” That affliction struck hard in the opening minutes of Resident Evil Village as my partner and I put off getting to the actual game to spend an inordinate amount of time exploring the Winters’ beautiful home.

Good entries give a good first impression of any house. What I love about Ethan’s house is that he has a defined foyer. His front door doesn’t just open into a living space; rather, there’s a clearly defined area where unexpected guests can remove their shoes or take their coats off before viciously shooting your wife at the dinner table.

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

This tiled backsplash tho!

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

I would kill several men named Chris Redfield to get this herringbone flooring.

Speaking of the dinner table: This kitchen and dining room, y’all! I’d buy this house for the herringbone floor alone. Do you know how hard it is to find good, interesting-looking, natural wood floors in this market? (Hint: it is VERY hard.) It has a breakfast bar and a fireplace, and you could get so much natural light from those windows. The cabinets could do with a new paint job, and there isn’t a lot of existing counter space. But [groans in cramped-apartment-dwelling millennial] god, it’s so big. Like, move over Lady D, the only big thing I’ll be eating in from now on will be this kitchen. [Badum-tss.]

Not that this has anything to do with the house itself, but I do appreciate the smaller details that make the house look lived in. There are diaper boxes everywhere, the TV is tuned to some random kids’ show, and there are baby wipes placed strategically around the house for whenever little Rose suddenly decides she’s not vibing with the strained carrots.

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

This house needs at least one more bathroom.

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Wallpaper sucks but I like how this house uses wallpaper as an accent rather than putting it on every wall.

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Screenshot: Capcom / Kotaku, Other

Look at all the plants! I long for enough space to keep a greenhouse worth of plants.

The upstairs is so nice that I moaned with longing looking at the bathroom with its sleek shower, pretty tiling, and modern sink. Though it is a little small, and it’s a shame that, from what I can tell, there’s only one. The giant master bedroom makes up for it. Although, it’s hard to judge fake spaces against real ones. But that bedroom looks bigger than my apartment’s living room.

I understand we’re not supposed to spend a lot of time in the Winters’ home. After the explosive events in the game’s first minutes, I’m sure I’ll never see it again. But as far as video game homes go, Ethan Winters’ possibly Romanian bungalow with the tiny bathroom and utterly mouthwatering herringbone flooring is the most desirable I’ve ever seen. Shame about all those bullet holes, though.

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