St. Peter's Asylum discussion

"Are you two... Together?"

".....Not really. It's kinda hard to explain." Eilir chuckled, as this was the second time in only a few days that she had been asked that same question.

"Yeah, I can understand that." Domonic sighed and flipped through Cadenza's files once again.

"what about you, huh? You and that OCD girl...Cadenza? Yeah, I heard you two were quite close." Turning the tables on people was always preferable to people asking about her personal life. But, then again, Eilir was, had never been, a very open person back when she hadn't been so....sick. The only person that Eilir was herself with was Wes, but sometimes, even Wes only saw the happy side of her she wanted him to see.

Domonic smiled, eyes never leaving his files. "You could say something like that." It felt good to finally say something to someone. After weeks of keeping their relationship a secret for Cadenza's benefit, it was nice to have someone know about them.

"And you're accusing me of dating Wes while you're dating your special charge. Hypocrite." her tone had become almost playful, her smile a little mocking, though, as always.

Domonic chuckled, glancing up from his papers. "I never accused you like it was a bad thing. I was simply curious, is all." He shrugged and looked back at his paper. There was so much to read, from beginning to end.

Lizzie walks into the Library holding Leo under her right arm, after she finally finds a good book, she sits down on a love seat next to a lamp and being to read.

((Third person, past tense.))

Julie was across from said loveseat, an open book across her lap. She had one elbow on her knee and her chin cupped in her hand as she read, brow furrowing in concentration. She was trying, odd as it may have been, to translate the book into Spanish--she was bored and it was a little mental exercise the doctors promoted, so why not try? It at least kept her mind off of fear.

Lizzie looked up, it was just another girl, trying to keep her mind off of the bad things. Lizzie didn't bother trying to talk to her just looked back at her book.

The feel of eyes on her made Julie look up and around. The library was empty, save her and the librarian and a little girl who sat across from her, reading. She frowned with what might have been concern at the child and spoke, her voice very quiet. "Excuse me, did you need something?"

Lizzie looked up at the sound of someone talking to her,"Me?" she asked and then contuined: "No umm, not really just reading. Do you need something?" Lizzie asked the girl.

Julie shook her head. "No, niña," she murmured with a little smile. "I'm fine."

Lizzie smiled a small smile and then said,"Your Greman?"

"German?" Quizzically Julie tilted her head to the side, and then she gave a quiet laugh. "No, no," she said, shaking her head. "Spanish. I am native to the country of Colombia, in South America."

Lizzie blushed. "Oh I thught nina was Greman. What book are you reading?" Lizzie asked.

"Spanish for 'little one'," Julie corrected. To answer the young girl's question she turned to the cover of the book, thumb placed to mark where she was and gave the title glance. She hadn't even paid attention to what she'd grabbed. "This is Edgar Allen Poe's book of poems," she said, sounding a little surprised. She hadn't realized that, for her attention had been drawn from the book to Lizzie before she even started her reading/translation session.

"Oh." Lizzie looked at her big thoese big brown dough eyes and jus watched. She didn't know if she could possbily be a friend but she hoped. "I'm Lizzie." She said with a slight smile.

((doe*))

"My name is Juliana. Juliana Alvarez. But you may call me Julie." She gave the child a second once-over, thin brows raising slightly in surprise. She looked so young and fragile, this girl--so unnatural here in the asylum. Like she didn't belong. The cruelty of human judgement, it seemed, knew no bounds. "Why are you here, Lizzie?"

((My bad))
Lizzie's smile faded as she started to remeber why she ended up here, shes been here for over a year now. It still doesn't feel like home. After some thought she said, "I have bipolar disorder. My parents sent me here ater I was dieagoised. They said they couldn't handel me anymore." Tears filled her eyes, she pushed them away. She wasn't going to cry not in front of her. She truned to her stuffed animal, she said pointing,"This is Leo. I've had him for a very long time. Why...why are you here, Julie?"

"Mmmm." The noise was sympathetic. She was sorry for her loss. At Lizzie's question, though, all sympathy melted away and turned to fear as Julie hesitated and looked around. Whenever they asked, it brought him back from the dead. At least in her mind. She shuddered, looked away, and said nothing.

Lizzie saw the shock in her eys when she asked this so with that Lizzie closed her book and moved towards Julie. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to." Lizzie matched Juiles soft tone. Waiting for an anwser.

Julie closed her eyes against the bad thoughts and shivered once more. "Okay," she whispered.

Lizzie looked at her then took Leo and put him in her lap. "You could tell him if you want, he is good at keeping secerts." She smiled.

Julie nodded a little, eyes still wide. She looked at the little tiger and very quietly began her story, speaking in Spanish. It took a good few minutes but when she was done she held out the little stuffed animal to Lizzie. "You ask him," she murmured, "and he will tell you."

Lizzie looked glad that Juile took her idea to heart and actually did it. "I will later." Lizzie said. "Oh long have you been her?" She asked.

"Only a few weeks. Not long at all."

Lizzie looked shocked. "Oh. I've been here for a year, I just had my 9th birthday here; My parents didn't bring me any persents though. I think they forgot." She just looked at Leo and hugged him tightly

Julie nodded and murmured her condolences. Then she stood, book closing deftly in her hands. "I need to go," she said, looking at the clock. "A nurse wanted to give me...something." She couldn't remember what she'd called it, but it sounded import so she wanted to be on time. She gave a little wave to Lizzie, set the book down, and headed for the door.

((Fade?))

((Sure. See, I'm not that bad! Getting better))

Lena sat perched upon the edge of a overly large maroon chair, a stack of books lain beside her. She seemed to be rifling threw them and then throwing them to the side as if she had no interest. Which was rather odd for Lena, because she would never dare to treat her books that way, or any book for that matter. Her broken wrist was lain in her lap, useless in every imaginable way. A look of barely veiled anger settled in her pale but striking features. Another, navy blue bound book tossed...

And smacked Raven in the back of the head. "Ow! Damn it!" The Indian whirled, eyes flashing, as one hand flew to the back of his head. There would soon be a knot there, surely. The book had hurt. "Who the hell threw that book at me?"

Damn. With all her luck, it had hit the one's who's voice she recognized very easily. "I didn't throw it at you. I was throwing it in general." Another book skidded across the shag carpet to settle at his feet. Her book pile was quickly disappearing, lent to the 30 or so books scattered around her chair and near her.

For a moment, Raven looked a little dumbstruck. "You? Throwing books?" He crossed the room and sat beside her, eyebrows raising in surprise. Lena didn't seem the type to throw things, and books were her love. What would drive her to that? "Why the hell do it?" he asked then, voicing his thoughts aloud. "You love books. At least, you normally do."

"Books are stupid. Who needs books?" She muttered, pages fluttering as one dropped at her feet. She didn't meet his eyes, choosing to allow a silken curtain of ink hair to slip between her sight.

"I thought you did," Raven said, and now he was laughing. "Every time I see you, you're reading or at the very least preaching about how horrible they treat the books here. Tell me, what on earth changed?"

Lena's eyes fluttered up to his, hers a startingly, angry blue. "Like they help? Like they do anything? I can't live in a world of fiction Raven! It isn't like that!" She didn't shout, just said loudly. Like anyone cared. "They aren't real. The words aren't real." She sounded half-crazed.

Now he was beginning to get slightly worried. "You're raving, Lena," he said quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong Raven. I simply came to my senses." She said in a rather sensible voice, though she had ceased flinging books.

"Came to your senses," Raven repeated. He blinked, looking a little confused. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

Lena smiled. It was an odd smile really, undetectable in its origins and thoroughly disturbing. "I used to think that when I read, I would be transported to another world entirely, away from qualms and life's quarrels. But I was ever so wrong. It doesn't work. You can't get away from life." Her voice was scarily calm. She chuckled. "Therefore, what is the point? Why waste my life reading when I can do many other things?"

Again Raven blinked. Lena was sounding just a little out of it now. "You been smoking or what?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't the Lena I know, for sure. What the hell's gotten to your head?"

Another dry chuckle. "No, I haven't been smoking Raven. What is the Lena you know Raven? Do you truly know me at all?"

"Well, I thought I did," the boy replied with a light shrug. "I thought I did." Raven turned his attention to her wrist, not seeming remorseful at all that he was the cause of the cast. "How's your wrist?"

"Oh fine. I can't write or play my instrument, but that is all right." Heavy sarcasm dripped from her tone and she averted her eyes, leaning forward to begin picking up the forlorn novels. Her only source of salvation, her instrument and words. She can't play her violin nor viola with a broken wrist, and, of course, it was her writing hand that had suffered, because the cast encased her hand and wrist. To provide support or whatever. Ugh.

Again Raven shrugged, looking unapologetic. "You brought that on yourself, girl. You know that."

"I know that." She frowned, sliding the rest of the books beside her and folding her hands, best she could. "Doesn't mean I have to accept it." She said, watching her feet. "Why did you come over here anyway? Why does it matter to you what I was doing?" She was just in a foul mood and was finding something to pick at, not really annoyed at him coming over.

"Because you hit me in the head and I got curious, that's why." Raven tilted his head and shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

Lena bit her lip. "I apologize for hitting you upon the head with a book." She frowned, picking at the hem of her skirt.

"S'okay." Raven grinned at her expression and chuckled a little. "It didn't hurt much." His eyes strayed to her hands, messing almost nervously with her skirt. His expression turned serious. "But there's something else, isn't there? Something bugging you."