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Some Day, We're Gonna Fly Away from Here; Like birds. A haunted asylum, kiddies.
Topic Started: Jun 13 2007, 07:15 PM (667 Views)
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  • "I think his name is Jacob." Nova said after a few moments of silence. He was, of course, referring to the ghost. Why he knew what its name was is a much simpler question. It had told him. "He's rather angry." He slumped against the door, staring at the padded walls with a twinge of pain. The continual slams and vibrations had made his back feel like shattering. The angel looked lazily over at Daisuke, his hazy off-color eyes still refusing to recognize him.

    "As to him," he waved at Shigeki, "this is a mental asylum and there are bound to be some crazy people in it."

    ooc. fuck. short.

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Hunni
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  • Shigeki had turned his conversation inwards, not wishing to give Daisuke any further reason to direct expletives at him, and thus missed the black-haired patient's eplanation of the ghost. However, it may have been more beneficial that way, is it probably would only have served to further befuddle him that Nova knew its name and described it as having feelings when it quite obviously had so little regard for theirs.

    The mention of "crazy people," on the other hand, did not pass his notice. In a disconcerting moment, the timbre of his voice was thrown off, layered twice over itself, once in the higher, gravelly tone of Shigeki, once in the lower, smooth tone of Kikai-san as they made their stony-eyed reply. 'I am not crazy.' Kikai-san bodily hauled himself upright, banishing all trace of Shigeki to the recesses of his own mind for the time being and added with finality: 'Motherfuckers.'

    'If he's Jacob, who are you?'

    ‡♦‡

    Being gorgeous must hurt, especially when she smiled so radiantly as that, Ciaran decided definitively. She must not have noticed the unusual amount of sugar in the coffee, or at least not cared, as the Head Nurse made no comment as to its flavor. The teenager found himself relieved at that miniscule detail.

    In an attempt to comfort her, he smiled back at the woman before him, stunning despite her condition, despite the fact that she hadn't actually been directing her expression at him in particular. 'Think of it as personal customization. No one's got a body like yours.' He winked, and the grin on the white haired male's face fled as unexpectedly as it had burst into being.

    A few moments of awkward silence passed; Ciaran leaned against the wall, slid to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly. A music box played a repetetive, lilting tune in his head and he swayed his head imperceptably from side to side in time to it. From his pocket he withdrew the set of keys the nurses had issued him and proceeded to twirl the ring around the middle finger of his right hand, inadvertantly flipping off the poor nurse who'd so recently been verbally assaulted by the patient in solitary-confinement. It only took her a second or two to notice, as she was particularly sensitive to such things at the moment, and she immediately dropped the remainder of her coffee in her lap and burst into tears.

    Ciaran blinked on, unaware of his actions. Somehow, he was unable to connect her earlier comments to his idle keyring spinning. He let the keys slide down his hand and returned them to his pocket. The teen hid his face behind his knees and hugged his shins, peering at the disheveled young woman sobbing into her coffee burnt hands from behind a sheet a hair and wall of skin. He wanted to ask what was wrong, to comfort her, to say something, but he was afraid that since he had been the one she was looking at when she lost it that he'd simply make things worse. The teen visibly shrank into himself.

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Robin
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“Right, because it’s completely normal to talk to yourself.” The comment was accompanied by a slight roll of the eyes, as well as the obvious sarcastic tone. It wasn’t very wise of the boy to be commenting on the sanity of others when he himself was among people of potential danger, though since when had he ever done anything remotely wise? Even now, common sense eluded him, never once gracing his mind for more than a moment’s time.

With the fear of whatever had been on the other side of the door now dissolved into nothingness, it was beyond easy for the usual attitude of the teen to take its place. Not worried about keeping his voice low, nor concerned very much with the fact that two strangers had somehow managed to get into his padded cell, he didn’t bother holding his tongue in the least. “Oh, and great, the demonic-whatever-the-hell-that-was has a first name. Does it has a last too, or are you two not that well acquainted?”

***

It was by chance that Siara caught the events as they played out, from the misinterpreted middle finger to the nurse’s outburst. Just a moment before, she was smiling sweetly still, about to comment on the last few words Ciaran had said. It was the crying of her fellow co-worker that stopped her, the woman obliviously needing tending to before conversation could resume. “Oh, sweetie, stop that right now.” She rose from her seat quickly, sitting her coffee upon a nearby table, and fetching several napkins in the process. Carefully, she neared the young nurse, resisting the urge to slap her as she did so. Yes, their work was unimaginably stressful, and of course, their emotions were often on edge. However, that did not supply her the right to burst into tears over an action that was not even direction at her. It was her fault for interrupting it in such a way, not Ciaran’s.

Yet, being the mature, acting Head Nurse that she was, Siara did not voice any of these thoughts. Instead, she picked the now empty cup from the woman’s lap, sitting it off to the side. “He didn’t mean it like that, hun. He was just playing around.” She offered a single napkin to the nurse, only while using the others to dab at what coffee had managed to spill upon her clothes. When there was nothing more than a slight stain left, she balled the few napkins up, tossing them off towards the nearest trashcan afterwards.

“Right, Ciaran?” She turned her head towards the young patient as she sought confirmation. “You didn’t meant to give her that gesture, did you?”
Where can your lipstick bring us?
Show me your magic,
Cool Guy.


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