St. Peter's Asylum discussion

Raven frowned thoughtfully at Roxie, looking her up and down. "Have you changed at all since they caught you?" he asked. "You know, your name? Your looks? How you generally act? It might help you out a bit. Sure did help me for a while."

"I used to change my hair every month. But I've grown rather fond of it long."

Raven shrugged. "Then you're gonna get caught again," he told her. "Simple as that. People, especially cops, tend to remember the faces of those on their wanted lists."

Roxie smirked. "You would know?"

"I would know." Raven nodded. "I've got more experience than most when it comes to running from the law."

She laughed darkly. "I can tell."

"You're a good judge of character," Raven noted. "Most people don't even know why I'm in here. I mean, besides maybe the fact that they say I look like a juvenile delinquent. Must be the hair." He shrugged as he brushed a lock away from his face. "Don't know why, but long hair on boys always throws people off."

Roxie smirked. "It's opposite on girls, you know. Short hair equals a druggie."

"That's stupid." Raven rolled his eyes. "You can't judge what kind of person someone is by just looking at them." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Meth addicts are the exception," he mused. "You can always tell if someone's hooked on crack."

A dark laugh. "Of course."

Roxie smirked as she stood, and the marketeer slapped either side of Raven's face gently. "You be good, and if you need anything, I've got your back."

With a confident grin to the boy, Roxie turned and walked away.

"Later," he called after her. He turned to his book and flipped open to his marked page, ready to lose himself again in the violence of the Games.

((That was epic. Fade?))

[yup;)]

Locks of ginger hid the face of the priestess in the library. Because her books at home had not been brought, Rosemarie was entranced in the books on Artemis the library had to hold. Not as good as her own stock, but it was barely enough.

Scraps of fabric were strewn across Bennett's lap, and as waves of coffee-brown fell in front of pale eyes, her nimble hands stuck the fabrics together to form a rather realistic doll of the boy she had met earlier.

Rosemarie looked up from the fascinations of hunting and purity, catching sight of the girl who seemed to be making a... Toy? A doll? Intregued, Rosemarie cleared her throat to catch the girl's attention.

Blue-green orbs were lifted momentarily from the dark-skinned doll, and, as her hands were finally free, Bennett pushed her waves out of her eyes. "Yes?"

"Not trying to be rude or anything, but what the hell is that?" Rosemarie lifted a perplexed eyebrow, running a hand through her ginger locks. It looked pretty freaking creepy, making Rosemarie feel slightly wary.

Gaze flickered down to her doll, and she shrugged. "It's a doll," she answered simply, not elaborating on the topic.

"Um... Did Mlaibu Barbie have some issues with her plastic surgeon?" Rosemarie asked, still disturbed by the doll. What the heck kind of doll could that be? And what kind of sixteen-year-old needs a doll?

"Voodoo doll, honey. You've heard of them I presume?"

"Oh." Rosemarie made a face, tossing some fiery locks over her shoulder. "Yeah, I guess. You make those things?"

"It's why I'm in here."

The lady killer sat on one of the plush chairs, gazing far off into the distance. Her mind was on killing, as usual--this was it, she thought. Tomorrow she was going out, for better or for worse. She would find a bird, a mouse, something. She had to, otherwise she was convinced she'd go stir crazy.

She sat in the corner nearest to the other girl, but their attitudes were vastly different. Hadassah rocked back and forth, red-rimmed eyes, as always, dart around the large library. Muttering to herself, something about how "he"'d come and get her, she looked right at home at St. Peter's.

Alice walked into the library, confused. Why had the voices told her to come here?

From his perch on the coffee table in the middle of the room, Raven gave the girl in the doorway a brief once-over. The confused expression on her face amused him; he smirked over at her. "You lost, sweetheart?"

Alice looked up. "Umm... I-I don't know..." She replied quietly. "Who are you?"

"The people here call me Raven," he said, and then casually kicked off the flip-flops he had bothered to put on before he left his room. "Who wants to know?"

"I was just curious... I don't know anybody. Or, at least I don't remember anyone," Alice replied, walking up to Raven slowly.

She was scared of Raven. He was the one of the first people who said anything to her.

"Don't remember, huh?" Raven raised an eyebrow and crossed his legs. "Is it dementia? Or do you just have a bad memory?" He smirked again, meeting her eyes.

"I was in a coma for 3 years... When I woke up, I couldn't remember my past at all." The voices told her she could trust him.

"Nice." He drew out the word. "Let me guess: your parents couldn't deal with you not remembering and sent you up here because of it?" It was a common thing, he thought. A common thing, to be abandoned. Or sent and simply forgotten.

"I'm Alice," she said, realizing she hadn't introduced herself. "At least that's what they tell me my name is." She looked up at him, smiling slightly.

Alice hesitated. "My parents are... I murdered them. But it wasn't my fault! The voices made me do it!" She was raising her voice on every word. Suddenly she started sobbing.

The voices made me do it. Another crazy. Raven stood and crossed the room to her, putting one hand on her shoulder and using the other to tilt her chin up so that their eyes met. "Listen, Alice," he said seriously. "I need you to do me a favor. Act like a big girl, quit crying, and sit down in that chair and tell me what the hell your problem is." He turned her around towards the chair he wanted her to sit it, then took the one across from her, the coffee table between them. He looked expectant.

She wiped her eyes and slowly sat down, never taking her eyes off of Raven. Her voice was shaking, but she managed to tell him. "I hear voices. I don't like them, but they tell me to do things. When I don't do them, they seem to take over and make me do what they want. I don't understand it... It was the first thing I remembered after I woke up. 2 days after. I remembered the voices telling me to do it, and when I wouldn't they took over me and I felt myself stab them, but it wasn't actually me controlling it."

"Possession, then," Raven said. He sounded almost scornful. "What takes you over, Alice? A ghost?" He'd never heard a claim like that before, not even after he came here, but he figured he might as well throw it out.

No, it's just... I can't control my actions when they take over, and it's like I'm a prisoner inside my body, watching my own parents die... And knowing that they'll always think it was me doing it. The voices said it was for my own good afterward, and then I fell asleep. I didn't wake up for 3 years." Alice finished. She still looked confused, and a little lost. She hoped he didn't hate her.

Raven sighed. He wasn't a psychiatrist; he didn't know how to help this girl. He didn't want to. He just wanted to stop her tears. Nonetheless, he nodded. "What happens if you tell the voices no?" he asked.

"They take over and do it for me... Whatever it is they want me to do. It's really scary." Alice's tears were stopping, and she felt a little better after talking to someone. She managed a weak smile.

"Have you ever tried resisting?"

"Yes, many times. Including the night they killed my parents.It never works."

"Why not?" She was making sense now, at least. Thank God for that.

"I don't know why I can't resist. I try and try and try to stop or do something else, but my body keeps doing what they want it to do. I've even tried yelling at them. Telling them what to do. Nothing works." Alice sighed. She just didn't get it. "I don't know if I tried to resist them before that night. I don't remember. All that was in the past 2 weeks, the resisting. And the night of the murder."

Raven rolled his eyes, beginning to get annoyed. "The only advice I can give you, kid," he said briskly, "is to keep trying. There has to be a way." Five minutes in the library alone with her and he was already tiring. What a pain people were. He stood, hopped over the table, and slid his feet back into his flip-flops, just about ready to leave. He eyed Alice and wondered if she would make the first farewell or burden him with that, too.

"Bye Raven. Thank you for listening. I won't stop trying. Thank you." She truly did feel better.

"And I'm sorry if I annoyed you... I just needed to tell this to someone."

He shrugged in response and ran his fingers through his hair. "Don't sweat it. Maybe I'll see you around." With that, he turned and exited the library, already beginning feel less annoyed.

((Fade?))

((Sure))