St. Peter's Asylum discussion

((Run-on. :P Trying separating two different thoughts with semi-colons or punctuation))

"Are you looking for a book?" Tommi asked. More or less stable patients could volunteer at the Library for something to do, and Tommi knew each corner from this experience.

"I-I can't r-read"

"Oh, well I could show you a simple book, maybe?" She suggested, one with simple words and pictures.

Lilac nodded and sat on one of the small couches and sat her bear bear on her lap

Tommi dissapeared for a moment, and came back with a cardboard book. She settled down next to the girl and flipped to the first page. There was a picture of an orange cat, with a single bolded word under it.

She pointed to the C- and looked at Lilac. "That symbol makes the 'cka' sound, or it can make the 'cs' sound." She told her.

Lilac nodded and began to mutter the sounds under her breath

Lilac slide down from beside Tommi and began walking around the library and saw Kagome. Lilac clutched her bear close to her chest and stepped back from Kagome slighly scared of her

"What's wrong?" She asked Lilac, frowning. She looked around for the source of worry, and patted the little girl's leg in reassurance.

((One sec. Two things, Kagome can't roleplay yet, she's not fit. Secondly, you can't control him. He's someone else's character, unless you get permission from them.

Lilac began to scream when Tommi touched her

Tommi quickly retracted, taking her hand away.

Lilac slowly stopped screaming as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Tommi "I-I..." She stammered and the tears began to fall

"It's okay," She quietly shushed her in a caring manner. "You can't get hurt." She assured Lilac, offering her a hankerchief.

Lilac took the hankerchief and dried her eyes "I-I'm sorry" She stammered and looked at the gound

"It's okay. All of us get upset sometimes." She reassured her. Tucking strangs of dark hair behind her ears, she set the picture book down on the table.

Lilac nodded

Voices were already clamoring around in Tommi's head, but she had ignored them. Now one spoke out in particular, a motherly voice instructing her. "Do you want something to drink?" Tommi asked, though it was that spirit speaking through her.

Lilac nodded and began to walk but stopped when her mother appeared in front of her "Mommy" Lilac squealed happily

((Sorry, that's not how it works. My post was unclear. Spirits talk to her, and guide her. Though she's still physically Tommi))

((okay))

Lilac sat on one of the couchs talking to her bear and ignored Tommi,and the world

"Okay, then." She pursed her lips, peering around the Library. She went and picked up her book, returning to the page she was on.

((Fade out?))

((sure))

Lithe form was spread across one of the plush sofas, and locks of platinum hair fell over meek elbows. The skinny frame of the tiny girl seemed swallowed by the giant cushions, eaten up and taken alive.

Long nails that were painted red clacked on the wooden side table her arm draped near, a delicate rhythm. Desdemona's cloudy-blue eyes were wide open, staring down at the flooring from the hole her crossed arms created.

A slight jump. Desdemona hadn't noticed the girl enter. Faded, glassy eyes traveled to the nearest clock-- 5:20. Had she really been here for more than two hours?

Blue eyes then rolled their way over to the girl at the bookshelves. An unfamiliar sight. Pretty voice, she commented to herself as she slowly lifted her head.

"What book are you looking for?"

Desdemona rolled over lazily, and then she sat up so that her back was pressed against the plush cushion. She pulled her legs up criss-cross applesauce and put her hands in the basket, a small smile adorning her lips.

A simple outfit cloaked the killer-- dark, skin-tight jeans, a simple long-sleeved shirt cut to fit her form and converse. Nothing more than an average girl. Flipping a strand of hair out of her face, Desdemona allowed her eyes to travel the books. "What kind of book do you want?"

Lilac walked back into the libray looking for Tommi. She sighed when she didn't find her

"Well, how about this one?"

Her hand reached for the book on the side table. Holding the book out towards the girl, Desdemona silently offered for the girl to come close.

The urge was there. The girl was so close... Close enough that Dessy could see the blue veins scattered across her body. With the lovely blood flowing inside...

Dessy shook her headful of hair. No. She was improving.

"You've read it?"

A slight frown. "Well, then I suppose that's out of the question..."

Hands, itching for anything to see that blood, were back inside the basket. A protection gesture, she had learned. For herself and others.

"Desdemona. I know, it's a mouthful."

A single, shaky hand was offered. Contact. Unusual for Dessy.

"Thank you. Your's as well."

Desdemona gave her a soft smile before returning her hands to the 'basket'. Safety. It was nice.

"So, Abigail, how long have you been here?" A calm voice.

She nodded slowly. "Claustrophobia? Isn't that... Tight spaces?"

So simple. Almost everyone was here by request of worried family members, for simple, manageable, easily fixed mistakes.

"Oh."

A slight frown. "I'm sorry. Is it... Better?"

"That's good." A small smile coated Desdemona's coral lips. "What I would give to go home..."

What home? Desdemona thought to herself. Her home was dead. She'd have to go to an orphanage.

"I'll bet. You have a family to return to, then?"

Rap. Tap. Rap-tap. Long, blood-red bails were once again on wood, tapping unknown rhythms.

Silence. The rapping stopped. Bloody nails stilled.

"All dead." Two single, simple words. Lifeless, with no meaning. Desdemona refused to make eye contact.

A small smirk. "It's alright. Nothing I'm not used to."

Tapping began again, slower this time. More diligent, purposeful.

Another smirk. The girl was interesting, though suspicious. But that was alright-- suspicion wasn't anything new.

She laid back down, head once again resting on her arm. Resuming her original position, Desdemona returned to thinking. What about? Oh, nothing. Just wondering where her slides were... She had forgotten to check this morning...

((fade.))

Lilac walked over to the other girls and waited for them to see her so she could talk

It was an on month.

Skinny, undernourished figure seemed sucked up by the large, cushiony sofa. Tiny frame was spread across it as eyes scanned the books on the shelf in front of her.

Amalthea had dark bags under her burnt-honey eyes, and dark curls were spiraling in all directions. A deep sigh escaped the eight year old as she wiped paint off her hands.

Painting. It fixed everything.

Sarah, on the other hand, was sitting curled up in the corner, Juno beside her as she fingered a pencil in her left hand. She held up her scetch pad and studied the girl she had drawn there: Dessy, she thought it was. She was drawing from memory; a quick sketch of the blonde murderer on the bench at the cafeteria with her knife-hand. She was busy shading now, the steady, constant scratch of her pencil on paper one of the only sounds in the room.

Dark golden eyes flew over to the one sound in the room, and Amalthea sat up. Cheetah was registered first, then the young girl.

"Hello."

Sarah barely glanced up from her paper, uttering a quick "hi" to humor the other girl. She finished drawing the details around Dessy's eyes, set the pad aside, and played with the pencil in her hands. The Voices were telling her to take a break now. Fine. She had no problem with that. Dark, almond-shaped eyes fixed themselves on the young girl, taking her in.

Eyes glanced at the sketchbook. "You draw?"

Sarah nodded. One hand slid across the drawing to cover it; this other girl didn't need to see the drawing, according to The Voices.

A small nod. "Me too."

Amalthea looked down, shaking brown locks out of her gaze as she did so. Brown eyes glanced up, and she shuddered. The killer was back, but she would never tell the nurses. It was always, "Oh, no, he's gone," or "I haven't seen him."

But she did.

"What are you looking at?" murmured Sarah curiously. She arose and picked up Juno, taking a few paces forward. "What do you see? What do you see?"

Rise and fall of her frail shoulders. "No one. Nothing."

Answers similar to those she gave the nurses.