St. Peter's Asylum discussion

((Fade.))

Hada followed eagerly, catching up to Alexia and slipping a shy hand into Alexia's.

((LOL, I was just here.))

Cup of cocoa in hand, Eilir was curled up in the corner of one of the leather seats, reading some adventure story. Spring was one of her most favourite seasons: the sunlight, the green things sprouting out of the fertile earth, the warmth... Yes, that was most definitely her favourite part. As she read on in her story, taking small sips of cocoa so as not to burn her tongue, a small smile tugged at her lips. She'd have to talk Wes into taking her for a walk later, the sun was streaming down onto her hair, and the slight breeze that wafted through a slightly open window smelled of peach blossoms. It was a perfect day for a walk.

[Oh well lol :p]

"Something smells good," a friendly voice called out as a new figure stepped into the small section of the library. He liked the library. It was soft and peaceful here without much noise. Drake had come here in hopes of finding some good material to do with his time. The patients were beginning to wander away from him as it was warming up outside and they'd prefer to escape for time to themselves and avoid the staff. He hadn't seen Alecia in a while, and he had more time on his hands than he was used to. The goth had brightened Whn he saw a somewhat friendly face. Someone he could make conversation with. That was better than a book. "It's a little warm outside for hot chocolate, don't you think?"

Cobalt blue eyes flickered from the typed words on the page to the newcomer's face. "Mmm. Nope, never too warm for hot cocoa. " Eilir replied, savoring a sip. Shutting her book with a snap, she stretched, like a cat, setting down her cup and book on a nearby desk. Eilir wished to stay curled up under her fleece blanket and read some more, but she flung the blanket off anyway, revealing a pair of pale legs donned in shorts. She tucked her feet under her, and waited expectantly for the guy's name.

"Interesting," came the reply as the volenteer dressed in all black sat in a comfy chair across from the patient. "Do you have an addiction to hot chocolate?" He wondered if he'd have a chance to help this girl and work with her. It would be easier to work with her rather than strangers he'd never met. It was partly why he always talked to the other patients he didn't work with, just in case he did in the future.

"Me? No. But I believe one of the other patients is. Claramae?" Eilir smiled faintly. "I'm Eilir. And you are?"

"Drake. I'm a volenteer here. You know Alexia?" He grinned that cheerful grin that only he could create in a mental asylum. "I'm her boyfriend. Pleasure to meet you, though, Eilir. That's quite the name."

"Ah. Nice to meet you, as well." She remembered passing the black-clad girl in the hallway once or twice and she seemed rather perfect for Drake. "It's Scandinavian. Do you know Wes, then? Wesley Miller?"

"Sorry, can't say that I have. I only just showed up a few days ago and in just starting to meet everyone here." His apology sounded sincere, and if anyone knew him, they would know that it was. "But if you tell me what he looks like, I'll probably recognize him."

"Ahh. You should really seek him out then, Wes knows just about everyone here. Dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin. Tall." She murmured, hands fluttering as she described him, smiling a bit. It was Wes who was friendly, not Eilir. "He's my...." Eilir stopped short. What was Wes exactly to her? Everything, now that her parents had turned their backs on her, but he was also a friend, a nurse, a healer, a caretaker. He was just Wes. "He's my Wes." She decided on, giggling.

Drake smirked, unable to hide his amusement. This girl didn't seem as effected by the asylum as others like Alexia did. She acted like a young girl with a lot of spirit. He couldn't imagine why she would be placed in such a place like this. "Ah, so he's your boyfriend?" Drake asked, noting the admiration in her voice.

"Wes? Eeugh. No!" A small, fleeting face of disgust flew over her face. "Wes is....well, it's hard to explain. He's my best friend, he's my nurse, he's my family, he's my caretaker....the list really goes on and on." Wes? Her boyfriend? Perhaps it was worth a shot. Eilir hadn't ever really thought about Wes like that, but she already loved Wes enough to probably be able to date him. She shook her head with a small smile, blonde locks falling out of their bun to frame her face.

"Sorry," he apologized with another laugh. "I understand now. Just a very good friend who sounds like a great guy to be helping you out here." He wondere if he and Alexia had never started dating years ago, if he would have come up to help her like he had managed to do now. He had only just started to come up to volenteer here, but he would like to think that he would have eventually come to live with her. It was what Frieda wet Edie, after all.

"Wes is pretty great. That's why you should seek him out. He'll show you around, help you with the weird patients...trust me, you'll probably need help with them." Eilir frowned, think of some of the more unfortunate souls at the asylum. "If you don't mind my asking so, what is Alexia here for?"

"Alexia... Well, it's kind of hard to explain. And don't tell her I told you why see here," he warned with a chuckle before turning solemn. "Alexia hears voices. And sometimes those voices can get to her and well, convince her I do things by threatening her. She tends to rely on music and me now I guess to help ease the voices."

"Oh. I hope she gets better." Eilir was actually sincere, something rare. But she always thought that those in the asylum deserved better. "I, myself, am an inmate of this lovely abode because I have a chronic fear of snow. Hence the love of heat." Eilir motioned to her hot cocoa, now turning cold. But she left out the more important part of her story, eyes clouding over for a millisecond at the memory.

*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) wrote: ""Alexia... Well, it's kind of hard to explain. And don't tell her I told you why see here," he warned with a chuckle before turning solemn. "Alexia hears voices. And sometimes those voices can get ..."

((Um, and sees things and feels phantom pain, but you know, voices work too.))

((LOL))

[Sorry, lol. I forgot all of it. :3]

Drake didn't bother to tell Eilir that he doubted Alexia would ever get better. He simply left it at a, "me too" and that was all. "Fear of snow, huh? I've never heard of that before. You're a unique patient here, then. Most of the others are all killers and such."

((XD))

Eilir gave a small chuckle at that. "Oh, I was almost nearly as 'normal' as you can get around here." Her rosy lips tugged downward in a slight frown. "But I'm quite glad that I'm unique."

"Being unique is a good thing. But, why are you so afraid of snow? Sure it's pretty cold if you spend too much time in it, but it can be really fun."

"My name actually means snow." She giggled. "But I just....don't know. I can't go outside during the winter without Wes."

"Well everyone's afraid of something, Eilir. It's a good thing Wes is here to help you. I can only imagine what it would be like without him."

Eilir's eyes flashed at the thought. Had Wes not been helping her, she would have murdered. "You have no idea." She said softly, tucking a platinum strand behind her ear. "I should really go find Wes, anyway...he's been out for a while." She said nervously, as she always got a bit antsy when Wes was gone for more than a few hours. "It was nice meeting you."

((Fade?))

[Fade.]

Bored. That was usually how most of the patients around here felt, but today was extremely excruciatingly boring for the nightmare victim who was now wandering along the aisles of the library in hopes of finding something to do. She was searching for the librarian- who didn't seem to be anywhere at the moment- in hopes that she had a job or her. Maybe she could take care of books that had been returned or something before she went crazy with boredom. The thought brought a soft, sad smile to the young girl's face and her hands had begun to play with the small tendrils of pink fabric hanging from her scarf. Underneath she wore a lacy black long-sleeved shirt and pink skirt that was perhaps a tad too short for most people's liking.

"You're wearing a scarf today!" Jason said approvingly from his perch at one of the tables. He smiled over at Cleo, waving her over with a grin on his face. "Very good. Now you come here; you owe me a dramatic death scene, Cleo." He was clearly joking in reference to their last meeting, but the tone of his voice was pitched to seriousness. If you weren't familiar with him, you wouldn't have thought he were joking at all.

But familiar she was, and Cleo laughed, shaking her head as she trotted over to the table, her bordum forgotten. "Here you go. It's all fair, after all I do owe you a good death." Grinning, Cleo wove the ends of her scarf in Jason's face, taunting him. It was odd, her joking about her own death and yet unsafe aid.

He smirked at her, grabbing one end to pull it completely off her neck. "If I were you I'd watch myself, missy," he warned. He waved the scarf at her like a banner, "I have a weapon in my hands and you're pretty much completely at my mercy."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," she remarked with a laugh. She reached out to grasp the scarf, actually having to lean over the table.

"You're lucky the nurses put drugs in my coffee this morning," Jason teased, and pulled the scarf back. "Not getting this back until I decide I don't want to kill you," he added, still smirking. "Or if you beg me. I'll give it back if you beg."

Cleo made a face, pushing back the black curls that had fallen into her face from the reach. "Do I reall have to beg?" She allowed the whine to creep into her voice, groping for the scarf with the hand not in her locks.

"You have to beg," Jason confirmed. He laughed. "That or wait for my brain to make itself up as to whether I want you to die or not."

The nightmare victim groaned, though a smile was planted on her lips. "Well, you said yourself, you had drugs in your coffee, so I don't want to wait that long seeing as how that's one of my favorite scarves." Sighing, Cleo changed her facial expression to one of a pouty expression. "Please, Jason? Can I please have my scarf back?" She batted her eyes at him, trying hard to fight off her grin.

Jason grinned. "Fine." He tossed the pink thing to her, chuckling a little. "You'd make a good beggar, girl. I mean, I'd toss some money in your hat."

"Why, thank you," she replied with a chuckle as she wrapped the scarf around her neck and adjusted it. "Well if I ever need fast cash, I'll know where to go."

"So what's up?" Jason glanced around and shrugged. "What've you been doing?"

"Just about hoping that you'd come along and murder me. I've been soo bored." Cleo rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, adding on a dramatic flair.

"Really?" Jason raised his eyebrows, then adopted a cocky smile and cracked his knuckles. "Because I could, you know, if you really want me to. How you want it done?"

"Not that bored," she replied quickly. "I was only joking. Though I doubt there's any other weapon here other than my scarf, so that would have to suffice."

Jason laughed. "Fine," he said agreeably. "I can deal with that, Cleo." He tilted his head, still somehow able to look extremely cocky. "You sure you don't want me to put you out of your misery?"

"You are just so confident, aren't you?" Cleo scrunched up her nose at Jason with a smirk. "I'm sure. But if I ever change my mind, I'll let you know for sure."

He nodded at her, straightened up, and gave a crisp salute. "Yes, ma'am." Then, in response to her question, Jason said, "I am very confident, thank you very much."

"At ease, soldier." Cleo replied with a curt nod, the grin on her face ruining it all. "Though that's not confidence. That's just... Stiff."

Jason relaxed and grinned a little, shaking his head. "I'm not stiff," he protested. "Not anymore."

"Well no, not now, but you were," she pointed out with a sniff. "We probably look idiotic standing across from each other like we're about to attack each other and sit down." Cleo gestured toward the now unoccupied chairs.

"But I might just attack you," Jason joked, swinging a playful fist at her. "I wouldn't tempt me, Cleo, silly girl."

Chuckling, Cleo grasped the fist. "You only wish, pretty boy. You could t hot this face even if you tried." Again, she battered her eyelashes, twisting her lips up into a playful smirk.

"I really would hate to," Jason agreed. "But seriously, I don't mind mangling a face or two if it'll make you scream." This part, at least, was true--he loved to listen to screams. They reminded him of music, only prettier.

"Well if you want to hear me scream without mangling my face, just like sneak up on me and just do what everyone else does and give jumper cables. I'd probably scream." Cleo nodded, as of to confirm her own words.