St. Peter's Asylum discussion

Ruby actually rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to say 'I'm not scared' before you believe me?" she asked. She didn't sound irritated, far from it--she was just curious as to why Felix had those kinds of thoughts so cemented in his head. "Because I'm not, really I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't be with you."

"I believe you, hon, I really do." Felix smiled a little, and gently rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. "But I don't trust myself. I'm just keeping you safe. Can you understand that?"

"No." Ruby's pout turned into a frown, and she shook her head. "No, I can't. Why don't you trust yourself? That doesn't make any sense." If Felix could trust himself not to snap around Raven--who deserved it more than anyone she had ever known--surely he could trust himself no to snap around her? She didn't even want to hurt him; and she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why he was always so worried.

Felix sighed a little, and shrugged. "I just don't. I couldn't stand it if I hurt you. And even if I know I won't, there's still a possibility that something terrible could happen. I'm just being safe." He flipped his hair to the side, and locked his eyes with Ruby. "It's not that I don't trust myself. It's just that there's a possibility of you getting hurt."

Ruby knit her brows. "But I won't get hurt. I'm gonna be on the safe side, just like you. I'm trying really hard not to make anybody mad. That way, no one will hurt me. Except the shadows, but that doesn't matter no more 'cause I'm used to it. The shadows are meanies." Of course, she intentionally neglected to mention the sadists of the asylum, the sorts of people who would hurt her without a reason, just for the thrill of the thing. She was making an effort to keep away from those sorts, anyhow.

Felix sighed a little. "Okay, so then we've come to an agreement of sorts? We can both work to keep you safe, mkhay? You won't get hurt by anyone. I promise."

"Okay!" As their almost-argument drew to a close, Ruby brightened once more. That was just fine with her. "As long as I can keep you safe too, Felix. Then I'm fine."

((Fade?))

((fade.))

Two figures came up to the top of the hill under the delicious shade of the peach tree, though it was hard to tell from a distance that there were two figures because the one figure- the male- was carrying the female figure in his lightly muscled arms. He had asked a nurse if he could please attempt to straighten up Cadenza's room, explaining her breakdown and that if she came back to the mess, it would only trigger more, worse breakdowns. The nurse hadn't been enthused, but had agreed to fixing up the room as best as he could to the high end requirements. It would cost Dominic a few extra shifts the next few days, but it was worth it.

"Here we are. Peace and serenity." He layed Cadenza down on the soft grass, delivering a light kiss to the tip of her nose and plopped down beside her, offering up a grin that could make the sun look like an orb of night in the afternoon sky. "Better?"

Cadenza nodded a little, taking a deep breath in of the fresh air. She put a smile in place and gently leaned her head against Dominic's shoulder. "Much better."

"I hope so." He placed an arm around her shoulders and planted a big, sloppy kiss onto her head. "Better enough to talk some more about what's bugging you? You know I'm all ears." He added hopefully.

"Uh-uh." Cadenza shook her head. "I don't want to think about it." She wrapped one hand around one of Dominic's and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I really don't want to think about it."

Domonic smiled and kissed her back, catching her hand that she had laid on his and interlaced their fingers. "Mkhay. You know of one way to distract me from serious conversation, and you are doing a very good job of it."

Cadenza grinned. "Maybe that was just my secret plan," said the blonde with a wide grin and another kiss to the cheek.

[Damnit! Not again.]

"How's that whole 'sleeping plan' going?" Domonic asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes was far from it.

((I know God dammit.))

Cadenza smirked. "Sleeping wasn't my idea, hon."

"So I was set up!" Dominic narrowed his eyes and his mouth set into a scowl of mock anger. "First you lie to me only to set me up. Gee, good thing my girlfriend isn't sneaky or anything. Then I could never trust her."

"Hey, hey, the sleeping was your idea, Dom. I just went with you." Cadenza grinned and chuckled a little. As she did so, the worries flew our of her head.

"We'll you should have old me you weren't going to sleep. I carried you all the way here just for you to not sleep." Not that he would ever admit this was definitely an upgrade to sleeping. It was also great to see her more relaxed, less bugged out.

Underneath the shades of the peach tree, rather hidden in the top branches, actually, sat Cleo in the darkness, hidden. Unfortunately, she had been forced to wander the asylum by herself. In order to avoid the wrath of Raven, Cleo had decided to go to the spot he most likely would not appear, the peach tree. It was off limits to high security patients such as himself, so she hoped he would for once follow the rules and stay away.

There was another boy out by the peach tree who bore some resemblance to Raven (at least when it came to skin and hair color) but, unlike him, he didn't have any sort of vendetta against the pink-clad girl who was, coincidentally, up in the tree with him. And he, unlike her, was hanging upside down from one of the sturdy branches, trying to determine exactly how long he could stay there without falling or accidentally making himself pass out from the blood rushing to his head. So far, he'd made it to exactly two minutes, and was still going strong (though his face, by then, was almost beet red and he was feeling significantly uncomfortable.) "Come on, Carlos," he muttered aloud. "Just get past 180, that's all I'm asking for. Just get past 180. 180 is a horrible number, so beat it."

Cleo whipped around towards the voice, almost falling down, down, down the tree (especially after catching only one mere glimpse and saw black hair and dark skin), but she managed to catch herself on a larger branch. She paused with a deep breathe, settling her racing heart from the scare she had given herself. Slowly, she crawled her way through the tree branches, keeping a small distance between her and the stranger. "Hello? Who's there?" She called out cautiously, tensing immediately in case she had to turn and climb quickly away.

"Me," Carlos called back, raising his eyes up to the form beside him in the branches. She looked even tenser than Rosemarie had on the roof--and that was saying something. He even thought he saw fear in her eyes, as if she were a doe who'd been caught unsuspecting by a mountain lion. "You could stand to calm down, you know," he told her. His words were slightly strained due to the clenching in his abdomen--it was hard to breathe now, let alone talk. "I'm a random Spanish kid hanging upside down from a tree and basically torturing himself. What threat could I possibly pose to you right now?"

Cleo physically relaxed. She exhaled a breathe that she had been holding in and her dark brown eyes returned to their normal shape and size, losing their terrified look. "I'm sorry. I didn't know who you were, and I thought you were someone else. You're right, you don't look like much of a threat." She seated herself down on the branch closest to her and offered up an apologetic smile. "You do look like you're about to pass out, though. Are you going to be all right?"

"Probably." Carlos's attempt at laughter was, much like his voice, strained and breathless. "If my stupid legs don't give out. Hold on..." 178, 179, 180! Thank God. Carlos grabbed onto a branch above him with one hand, slowly pulling himself up so that he sat beside Cleo. He grinned at her, panting slightly, as the color began to leave his face. "I'll definitely be all right now, though. I've defeated the tree." He, of course, didn't offer to elaborate, and instead held out one hand to introduce himself. "I'm Carlos."

"Umm, congratulations?" He was certainly a strange one, but a like able strange. "That tree was a worthy opponent. Oh, and I'm Cleo. Pleasure." She looked around at the branches around her. Most of them were tiny and weak, unable to support her weight. "I would reach over to shake your hand, but can't really do so under the circumstances."

Carlos grinned at her and raised his eyebrows. "That's okay. Not much of a tree climber?" He looked at the branches for a moment, tilting his head as if to say, It wouldn't be so hard to climb that. Considering that he outweighed Cleo, however, that was probably the recklessness talking. There were times when he couldn't say what part of him was telling him what. He laughed a little. "Or maybe not. I don't know. Doesn't matter much, anyway." His expression turned from thoughtful to curious. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you running from? I don't think there are any other non-Caucasians here."

Cleo frowned, and felt herself clam up a little, but only a little. "I'm not running from anyone," she replied, and hearing the own curtness in her voice made her wince on the inside. "Besides, why would you like to know? I don't exactly know you, so what business could it make yours by knowing my problems?" She couldn't help but feel on her guard, she had been looking over her shoulder for the past few days, and she didn't want anyone else getting in her head.

Carlos shrugged and raised his hands. "Hey, take it easy. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just a curious person, that's all. Scout's honor." He grinned a little, at the last sentence, but nonetheless moved slightly away from Cleo, giving her her space. There might have been a lot of cruel psychopaths around St. Peter's, but he was not one of them. He wanted to make sure Cleo realized and remembered that.

She gave him a hard stare for a few more minutes, studying him. She had to admit, he looked friendly enough, and he had a friendly air about him, but so could Jason, and so could Raven, for that same matter. After taking a closer inspection. There were no major bulges in the pockets of his pants that could indicate he possessed any weapons that she could be harmed with. Her harsh expression faded and she felt herself relax a little, but only a little because she knew she still had to remain on guard.

"Sorry," she said, actually feeling genuinely apologetic for jumping the gun on her first impression of Carlos. "I don't get a lot of sleep last night and I'm not feeling myself." The lat part wasn't completely a lie. She really hadn't been able to sleep well, even with her locked door, extra security, and Jason right down the hall. She wasn't entirely acting like herself, either. Instead of being deathly afraid of every creak and jumping at every shadow when she was alone- and apparently when she was meeting new people - all the time, she would usually be friendly and charismatic or grouchy and sarcastic depending on her mood. Now, no matter what, she felt petrified like a cornered rabbit.

"That's okay." Carlos's grin turned into a genunie smile. "I've been there." He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, lacing his hands together behind his head. "Sleep problems, huh?" His smile faltered a little, and the amusement in his voice trickled away. "I've been there, too, believe me. But what's causing them for you? Nightmares or just plain terror?" He gave her a slightly sideways look, and then his faltering smile grew a bit so that it almost became a half-smirk. If he couldn't gently prod the name of her assailant out of her, perhaps he could make her upset and goad it out.

Cleo still didn't want to talk about it, especially with someone she didn't know. Even when Jason had Attempted to talk to her, she had turned him down. She wasn't so rude as to tell this person as much, though. "Well the reason that I'm here is for suffering from nightmares." She was not telling the whole truth, again. While it was true that she had suffered from nightmares, she hasn't had one about Abigail for about two or three weeks. She had had a few here and there about Raven or other things less terrifying. That wasn't why she hasn't gotten any sleep, of course, for her there had been terror, but he didn't need to know that.

But Carlos did know that--because, as he'd said, he'd been there before, and he understood her hesitation, and now he thought he understood the unexpected terror upon her meeting him. But the revelation didn't show on his face--instead, he simply allowed the smile to fade away. "Oh , " he said. He nodded. "Oh. I think I understand now." Raven. Of course it was Raven. He'd heard so much about the Indian over the past few weeks , it was absolutely no surprise to find he'd been terrorizing a nightmare victim.

Cleo snorted out a laugh that held no humor. It was cold and dark. "I don't believe that you do, but thank for the sympathy." She smiled a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. She had no reason to think that Carlos had any idea what she was talking about. At that point in time, she didn't think that anyone had any idea what she was talking about. She felt about as crazy as the staff thought she was.

"El cuervo," Carlos said. He looked at her, eyebrows raised just slightly, for once no smile on his lips. "Am I right? I feel like you're underestimating me, Cleo. That or trying to say that you've had it worse than I have because you think I can't put two and two together when it comes to trauma. Tell me, which is it?"

[Brain fart. Cuervo means?]

Cleo sighed heavily. She didn't want to insult the darker boy she had just met by thinking that she had the worst life in the world. She knew she didn't, not even close. That didn't stop her from being scared out of her mind with Raven's threat hanging around her. "Really. It's nothing. I just have to watch my back because someone who can do a lot of damage to me is mad at me because I pissed them off by running my big fat mouth."

((Raven.))

Carlos gave the slightest grin. "Well, that certainly narrows it down," he said sarcastically. Of course, he did know exactly who she was talking about, as he'd already told her. Thus the small smile on his face.

[Oh that's right. I did know that.]

"Unfortunately, there are too many satanists around here to have it narrowed down too much." Cleo scowled and a dark cloud hordes over her face. "Scary people like that deserve their own asylum."

"I take it you don't know Spanish, then." Once again, Carlos's eyebrows rose, and his grinned widened. "Raven," he said instead. "Cuervo is Spanish for raven. So: am I right or am I right?"

Cleo's mouth opened into a small 'o' of realization. She could have possibly just given herself away. Instead of answering his question directly, though, she asked, "why would you immediately assume it was Raven?"

"Well, mostly because of your reaction just now." His smile twitched, just slightly, and became vaguely smirkish. "But otherwise because of how you reacted to me when I started talking to myself. You reacted like I was someone you didn't want to meet--and the only other not-white guy I know is Raven, so..." he trailed off pointedly, and winked. "So I just made assumptions."

Cleo grinned a wide smile that showed all teeth. "Well, you know what they say when you assume things." She crossed her arms with a look of feign disapproval. "Then it makes an ass out if you and me. Though in this case, you're right."

Carlos's grin disappeared for a split second. For the love of God, he hated that phrase. For a moment, Cleo sounded just like one of the brutes at the plantation. "Yeah," he muttered, giving his head a quick shake to clear it. He'd just had a breakdown yesterday, it was no time for another one now! Still, Cleo's comment made in innocence brought on one split-second of anger. Calm, he thought. Easy, Carlos. Calm.

The sufferer of nightmares could see the sudden change in the candy eater and frowned. It created deep wrinkles in her usually pale and flawless skin. "Uh, are you okay?" She asked with a tilt of her head, her dark black curls falling over her shoulder as she did so. All of a sudden, Carlos didn't look very good.

"Yeah. Yeah." Carlos raised a hand. "I'm okay." He breathed in, then out, and took a green Jolly Rancher from his left pocket with his free hand. He managed to unwrap it with only one hand, and then popped it into his mouth. Almost immediately, he began to feel better. He gave a more convincing nod. "I'm okay," he told her. "Really. Now I am."

"Low blood sugar?" Cleo guessed, her eyes gesturing towards the hand containing the empty candy wrapper. It was true, he seemed better now after popping the candy into his mouth. It was a strange thing she'd never seem before.

"Ah, no." Carlos chuckled around the candy, a brief, low sound. "Much more complicated, chica." He grinned--the Jolly Rancher had turned his teeth the slightest bit green--and shrugged a little. "It's not something we need to get into, though, is it?" The words were said with a tone that was almost hopeful, almost pleading. "It's a really long story." Really long, he thought, and really dangerous. For you.

Cleo brightened with a clap if her hands together, pointing a finger at Carlos victoriously. "Now that Spanish word I know." Then her face tunes solemn as she recognized the look on his face. It was the look a lot of patients got when thinking about their past, their stories, most of them were called, because they were the stories leading to their arrival here, in their own personal hell. Thinking of her own dark journey, Cleo's smile faded. The thought of Abigail's pale face in her black coffin, with black clothes on, surrounded by mourners in black. While Cleo, possibly the biggest mourner herself, wore then and forever on, pink.

"Would that long story happen to be the reason behind you being out here?" She asked quietly, memories still dancing, glistening in her irises like stars in the black night sky.

"Right-o." Carlos's grin took on an almost strained quality, and he gave a little sigh. "It also happens the reason why no one ever talks to me." Because when your mind was home to the beast, talking was dangerous. Everything was dangerous. The slightest of things could ignite the wrong feelings: anger, hate, disgust...fear. Fear was always the worst. Fear always led down the darkest paths. The boy gave Cleo an odd look, some mix of hope and apprehension. "You're talking to me, so I take it you haven't heard any stories?"

Cleo shook her head. "Nope." The 'p' was popped. How long had he been here, anyhow? She figured not long, if everyone knew his story. When there was a new patient, every time their story and other rumors spread among the patients like a wildfire. She was glad she hadn't heard his. She had enough people to be scared of nowadays. " I didn't even know we had a Mexican in this joint," she pointed out to him and repositioned herself on the branch to prevent her back from aching and her butt from going numb.