St. Peter's Asylum discussion

And in that reality was Raven, high up in the branches of the peach tree. He himself had been lightly dozing, up until the point when he heard Cleo open the gate. Since then, he had simply been watching her, noting her lack of nervousness around the tree. He'd even watched her close her eyes, watched her fall asleep--and boy, was it amusing. It was clear from her actions that the girl in pink thought he would actually obey the asylum's rules and refrain from coming to the peach tree--which made him think that she was one of two things: either an absolutely terrible judge of character, or a very, very stupid girl. He decided to lampshade this. "Wow, Cleo. This is the first time I've seen you calm in weeks. You must really think I'm quite the goody-goody."

[It's both. :3]

Cleo was roused out of her light doze by the sound of a voice. At first, she took no notice of who was talking to her until she finally recognized the voice. The words 'goody-goody' made her freeze and her eyes widen. She sat up slowly, her head swiveling back and forth, her wide eyes searching for the large Indian sadist, but she saw no sign of him and that made her even more scared. "Where are you, Raven?" She called out in what she was supposed to be an angry, perhaps threatening voice but it only became a little voice of a child, scared of something like a monster in a closet. She was on her feet now, slowly taking tiny footsteps towards the gate at the peach tree. Perhaps, if she was subtle, she could make it. She didn't know jut how close Raven had been to her.

"Bad idea." A soft, subtle click. Not a gun, but a taser--Raven was holding the weapon now, and he had flipped it on when Cleo began to edge towards the gate. The taser wasn't pointed at the girl (not yet, anyway) but it was in his hand, and the Indian thought that that would be enough to force the girl in pink to at least start considering her options. "Cleo," he said, "a little piece of advice: before going to sleep, always, always, always look up."

Cleo froze again, and although she was a little late coming to, she tilted her head upwards into the treetops. There, she found her terrorist. In his hand was the object to blame for the audible click that had made her freeze. Not a gun, as she had earlier thought, but a taser. Cleo had never been tased before in her life, but she had been told by people stronger than her that the pain was excruciating. Her throat became hot and thick, tears of panic and fear threatening to break loose. A small whimper escaped her, just barely loud enough for the Indian to hear. Please, don't hurt me. I'll do anything. But the words were stuck in her throat, stuck behind the large hot ball burning in her throat.

"Do you remember when I said I'd be back for you, Cleo?" A small smile played along the Indian's lips, just large enough to reveal the tips of his teeth. It was an amused, almost anticipatory smile. Not quite the look of a predator, not quite the look of a psychopath in control of himself--somewhere in between the two. Very slowly, the muzzle of the weapon moved up until it was pointing not at the ground, but at Cleo's terrified form. "Well, I think I've found my weapon of choice. And I even think I have a reason to use it." Something akin to delight had seeped into Raven's voice. "Did you go to Jason, Cleo? Did he threaten me?" Another quiet click, accompanied by the brief sound of electricity: the voltage setting had been adjusted. "Tell me the truth, now."

The sufferer of nightmares flinched at the sound of voltage from above her. Oh, how she wanted to run, but as she had found out just the other day, running would do her no good at all. Raven, Jason practically bullied it out of me. He wouldn't leave it be. You know he can twist minds just like you can. The excuse died in her throat, tasting bitter on her tongue. It possibly that was the bile she had to keep swallowing down. She couldn't speak to defend herself, she couldn't run, and she was too afraid to lie, but she figured Raven had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, and she would discover what it would be like to have an electric charge go trough her no matter what she said or did. Tears of fear threatened to spill over her eyes and on to her cheeks. A small nod-- that was all she could manage.

"Awww. Well wasn't that just sweet of him." Raven's hands clasped in front of his chest, as if this were the most darling thing he had ever heard--the gesture, as it was, had been learned from Rosemarie, and he used it now for amusement. "He must really care about you, Cleo, if he thinks it's a good idea to rattle his sabers at me." He glanced down at the taser, studied it for a moment, and then looked back up at Cleo. "And I suppose it would make more sense for me to go after him now, since I've been given the heads-up. But I think I'm going to stick with you, mouse. You're more fun. Besides, Jason doesn't cry when he's afraid." The taser went back to pointing at the young girl. "And he doesn't scream when he's in pain, either. Part of me can't help but wonder just how much you'll prove to be his opposite. How loud do you think you'll scream, Cleo, when I decide to shock you?" Not if. When. At this point, Cleo's injury was a definite, definite certainty.

When Raven threatened Jason- her Jason - that was when Cleo found her voice. She whipped around to face the tree, her hand grasping onto the trunk of the tree. Her fingers curled around rough sections of bark, and some pieces came free, tickling the skin of her outstretched arms. Her voice was high again, this time with a mixture of outrage and her earlier but now renewed panic. "Don't you touch him! This isn't Jason's fault, Raven! He wouldn't have any idea about what happened if I hadn't said anything about it. He didn't do anything to you and wouldn't have even cared about you if I hadn't said anything to him about you." She was in a full-fledged panic now, not realizing that she had probably given Raven some great satisfaction and amusement from her sudden spiel. She wouldn't have cared even if she knew, her hackles were suddenly raised and she was upset and defensive about Jason, about threats to make him scream. As a person who had heard his cries before and seen some damage the guards had done. She was not one to tolerate more pain inflicted on him if she could somehow help it.

Raven's eyebrows rose, and his smile widened. "Oooh, temper, temper. I was wondering when I'd see your famed fiery side, Cleo." The girl in pink had thought right--her sudden, panicked outburst had amused him; almost to the point of laughter. Of course, for right now, the Indian was past that. Animals didn't laugh, after all, and right now, he was feeling more animal than man. "Answer a question for me, would you, Cleo?" His voice had gone from thoughtful to amused. "How many volts do you think I should add every time you do something to distract me, hmm? Three? Five?" Ten? That, of course, went unsaid. He didn't want to knock Cleo out--most of him didn't. He just wanted to hurt her.

Cleo fell silent, but her eyes glared up at Raven defiantly. She knew her pain was coming, and she didn't want to mess with him anymore. She hadn't wanted to mess with him to begin with. She has settled down a little now that she was under the impression that Jason would be okay. So long as he wouldn't be beaten again, it was bad enough what he got from the guards, he didn't need more from Raven. Her jaw clenched and unclenched not just from her anger, but also from her thinking. She was thinking, concentrating on what she thought the pain was going to be like. Everyone had gotten a shock before, sure, but she wondered how much it would hurt when the electricity went through her. Would she cry? Perhaps. Would she scream? It was almost inevitable.

"Or don't. That's okay too." Raven decided on just a little bit more voltage--Cleo was cooperating now, giving him no reason to ramp it up. So he kept it low(ish) enough to cause pain, excruciating pain, but not enough to cause unconsciousness or any lasting side effects. Good enough. Raven aimed (the sensitive midsection was now in his sights) gave Cleo a little smile, and fired. There was a sharp, electrical sound: Zzzzap!

And the pain was excruciating. Cleo was a girl who was accustom to painful menstrual cramps in the same area, but this pain was nothing in comparison. She had doubled over, her hand coming off of the tree and clutching her abdomen. A screech of pain escaped from her lips. Her eyes did tear up, but didn't yet spill over. She sat there, nearly in the fetal position under the tree with her arms crossed over her stomach. For a moment Raven was forgotten and all there was was pain. As the pain slowly dulled, her scream dialed down to low whimpers.

This got Raven to laughing, a short, almost barking sound. Certainly not anything too maniacal, anyway. He grinned down at Cleo. "Well that was interesting," he said, and indeed sounded fascinated. "Thank you, Cleo. Now I have something I can tell Roxie." He was, of course, referring to when he had met the now-broken blonde in the graveyard several weeks ago, where he had spoken briefly of his curious desire to see what someone's reaction would be to such an electric shock (since it had nearly killed the unfortunate cat who had been victim of the weapon several minutes before.) And now, thanks to Cleo, he had his answer. And his fix for the day.

No sarcastic quip came to lips or mind. She barely even heard Raven, she at least didn't understand the words. Just his voice, she heard his voice and that was what sent her up into a panic again. It was something that would again haunt her in her nightmares that would continuously follow for the next month and a half.

Cleo moved now. Slowly, sluggishly, but the move was definite. She began to crawl away from the tree, the ache still deep inside her stomach as she did so. That and the sudden twitching of her body made it difficult to get away, to escape to freedom where she had nothing to fear. The way the girl in pink scrambled in her urgency to get away only made herself more slow and easy to catch. She wasn't thinking that, the only thing on her mind was getting out, getting freedom.

Zap! A shorter sound, and a lower voltage. Raven was simply aiming now at Cleo's receding back. Just a little...goodbye shock. The boy grinned--though his victim obviously could not see him (and perhaps that was the point; it was a very startling expression)--and waved at her with his left hand. "Goodbye, Cleo," he called down, and clicked the taser off. "Thanks for being my little guinea pig--and such a good victim. I appreciate it." And then he laughed, laughed behind her, and watched as she staggered away.

((Fade?))

[Fade.]

Riley thoroughly enjoyed the outdoors, especially an area such as the peach tree with such a lovely aroma. She could most frequently be found outdoors, as inside felt to her to be confining, and today was no exception. It was such a pretty day; the sun was bright, and there, was a light breeze that shifted the leaves and the scent of the tree above her. The young Welsh girl sat with her back against the bark of the tree, and her nose buried in the book in her lap. Beside her sat a mug, which was filled with her favorite tea. Gray-blue gaze was peaceful, no sign of arising panic. Riley was at peace.

One denim-clad leg was kicked over the other, her bare feet tapping against the grass. She wore a simple short-sleeved white shirt, and her dark locks were allowed to fall in front of her eyes. Absently, the hand on the book toyed with the edge of a page, although she was a firm anti-dogear kind of person.

Even a small smile was in place. Riley's frantic mind was at rest. The outdoors was just so peaceful.

[Dang. Holy post. Beautiful~]

Rebecca, who had been feeling a little adventurous that day, had climbed up to the very top of the peach tree. The view had was breathtaking, the scene just perfect in her eyes. She was a patient who had been unable to come across the rooftop of the asylum, and so the view she had peaking through the thin branches of the tree- which smelled delicious, the scent was wrapped around her, cloying her nose and the soft breeze teasing her blonde locks, the light scent of peach blossoms tangling in her messy locks with the wind. The rebel sighed, knowing that she couldn't be at the top of the tree for forever, although she so would have liked to. She began her climb down the tree. Not at all careful, and stretching her limbs as she climbed dangerously from branch to branch.

A small gasp of surprise escaped the Merchant's lips when she saw the dark-haired figure at the bottom of the tree where Rebecca had planned on jumping off the thick branch. If she hadn't looked, then Rebecca feared that she would have ruined the poor girl's book and heart. "Oh, hello," she greeted uneasily as she climbed down slowly. She offered up a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind one of her ears. "Good read?"

[Thanks c: ]
Pale gaze glanced up, and Riley habitually flipped the book over, so that the open pages faced her thighs. In doing so, Welsh title (or at least some foreign language) was revealed. In almost an instant, the Welsh girl looked the newcomer up and down, without finding much, if any, malice. And so Riley allowed herself to smile, and she nodded. "Yeah, it is. Reminds me of home, y'know." With the last words, the hint of an accent peaked, but it was gone almost instantly. She picked up her mug with both hands and took a sip of tea before continuing. "I'm Riley," she said with a smile, offering a hand.

Home? How strange, most people here didn't want to be reminded of home. If they were, it would usually send them into a murderous state or send them sobbing and locked up in their dorms for hours. Home was good for this girl? How lucky. "My name's Rebecca Merchant," she introduced with her hand stretched out. Her green gaze followed the mug, and she could smell the herbal of the tea. It was a different scent from the familiar smell of peaches, and so the smell of tea seemed a lot stronger than it really was. She didn't mind thinking of home, was casually drinking tea, and felt safe enough to enjoy a good book? Rebecca decided that she wasn't talking to a patient, but a nurse or volunteer. "Oh, yeah? What's it about?" She tried to read the title, but she couldn't recognize the language and gave up quickly with confusion shining dully in her eyes.

Riley laughed a little, shaking the girl's hand and setting her cup of tea down before picking the book up once again. "Well, it's in Welsh, that's probably why you can't read the title," she offered with a little wink, noticing as the blonde struggled with the words on the front. "It's a cheesy love story, but it's set where I used to live." Riley laughed a little, and shrugged. It was often that patients confused her for a nurse on her good days; most everyone here was some sort of psychopath who had a tragic, terrible home life. The brunette offered a smile to the girl, assuming that she would think the same.

"Cute," Rebecca responded, now thoroughly convinced that she was a volunteer rather than a patient. No patients cared for cheesy love stories, they were too busy battling reality and demons of the past. "So who's nurse are you?" She asked with a tilt of her head, her eyes still looking the girl up and down. Like the storyline of her book, the Welsh girl looked cute, but maybe a little frightened still. Had she maybe been attacked recently? She doubted that even Raven would attack the young girl.

Riley laughed, a little twitter of a giggle escaping her lips, and the brunette set her mug down beside her as she brushed her hair back. On good days, everyone thought she was a nurse. "Now why does everybody think that?" she asked aloud, almost to herself though. Gray-blue gaze turned to Rebecca, as if she were startled (when in reality she was a little chastened, admittedly, to be caught talking to herself). "I'm not a nurse," she said with a little laugh. "I've been a patient for about a year now."

Shock flashed in the green gaze of Rebecca. She tried to cover it with a flip of her hair that hid her eyes from the patient with the tea. "I wouldn't have guessed," she admitted sheepishly with a small smile. "You don't seem like a patient- you act too calm and at ease. Most patients are always looking over their shoulder in fear. You're not."

Riley shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I've gotten past my demons, mostly." She offered a smile to the girl before her. "But thanks, I like to think that I'm pretty normal compared to some." The Welsh girl winked and nodded at Rebecca. "What about you, Rebecca, was it? You're obviously a patient; what're you in for?"

A chuckle of amusement escaped the lips of Rebecca. "Not as normal as you, my dear." Her smile had a somewhat sad appearance to it. "Potential murder, blasphemy, and for being over-rebellious," she listed out her 'symptoms' for being placed in the asylum with a robotic way in her voice. She had heard it many times before and had been told it too many times to count.

Riley couldn't help herself; she laughed aloud at the last one. "Over-rebellious? How does that even begin to work?" The brunette ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back, and took another sip of tea. "I mean, it's not like the murder is something you don't hear about every day here. Blasphemy and over-rebellion are original though." The girl offered another little wink, followed by a little laugh.

Rebecca chuckled along with the patient, mocking a bow as well as she could sitting beneath the tree. "I try. But in all seriousness, I suppose the over-rebellious acts and blasphemy sort of tie in together somehow?" She shrugged the thought off with a roll of her eyes. "I don't know. I'm bot given details, just prescribed the meds to 'cure' it." She used air quotes around the word 'cure' with another smirk.

Riley laughed again, a little roll of her eyes at the mention of "cure". "Oh, they think they're so clever, curing everything, don't they?" Sarcasm was heavy in her tone, and she offered a little giggle. "That seems like hardly anything to be put in an asylum, though. Was your family full of nutjobs or something?"

Rebecca chuckled in dark amusement. "I suppose you could say that," she said slowly. "My mother thought an appropriate form of punishment was throwing me into a closet and forcing me to pray. She beat me while she called me the child of Satan. But I'm the crazy one for trying to kill that bitch." She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up slightly in her irritation. "Makes sense."

She let out a low whistle. "Wow," she said, drawing the word out. "That's crazy. You poor thing." It surprised her, really, how bad some of the patients tended to have it. It made her own live seem like an easy one when she heard of the abuse and physical punishment some people went through. At least hers was only mental.

"I'm alive," Rebecca replied dully. Her green gaze glared around at the asylum around her. The glare held hatred and distaste. "I'm here, but I'm alive. I suppose that's a good thing."

"Certainly," Riley said with a little chuckle. "But hey, you're alive, right?" The brunette winked and took another sip of tea.

"Good point, wish I'd thought of it," Rebecca remarked with a little smirk. She glanced down at the tea with a raised eyebrow. "They serve tea here? Is it any good? Everything else is grotesque."

"I brought it myself," she said with a warm little smile. "The nurses trust me enough with a hot kettle and so they let me make it." Riley held out the mug. "Want some? It's chai."

((Oh well crap. You guys faded, I assume? XD))

Today, Raven thought, was a good day. For once, he didn't even mind being outside--the sky was dark, heavy with storm clouds, and it looked like rain. And he would be damned before he missed the chance to sit out in a storm; it hardly ever rained at St. Peter's, and he didn't want to miss anything when it finally decided to fall. It had been almost insultingly hot lately, after all. So the Indian had taken the chance and come out to the peach tree, his hair for once untied, his ring on his finger, and (for once) nothing on his mind. He now sat high in the upper boughs of the peach tree--the closer to the sky you were once it finally rained, the more fulfilling the experience--and his eyes were trained up on the ominously hanging clouds; dark, dark gray. It would no doubt be pouring soon, and Raven was planning on being awake when it happened, despite how tempting it was to close his eyes and drift off. The last thing he wanted--or needed, for that matter--was to get woken up by a shower he hadn't even planned on taking.

[Oooops. XD We did now.]

Unlike her sadist, Rosemarie Toom had had one thing on he mind lately, and she had set out to look for him nearly all day. She had found a present for Raven, and was more than a little but excited to show him- though whether he would like it or not wasn't exactly clear. Or, Rosemarie would pretend that it wasn't clear. Her surprise (it was more of a surprise than a present) was wrapped in a small blanket at the bottom of the peach tree, waiting for the arrival of the former Huntress and the sadist. The former Huntress began to climb up the tree, smiling when she got to the top and she saw the Indian sitting up at the top, looking at the sky. He looked different than usual that day, Rosemarie noticed as she gave him a once over. His hair was down, despite the muggy heat (she had been unable to take it and had herself kept her hair uncharacteristically up), and his ring was on his finger instead of on the usual chain that was put around his neck. "Why, hello, Handsome," she purred at him, settling on a thick limb beside him. A bright, almost mysterious smile was placed on her cherub lips.

Raven turned to look as he heard someone climbing the tree, raising one eyebrow when he saw the sadist-in-training. "Hello, Rosemarie," he said, and gave her the slightest crooked smile. "What are you doing out here? More importantly, why are you grinning like that? And why the hell did you just call me handsome? You never do that." And she never actually had, at least not as far as he could recall--until now. And that made the Indian ever-so-slightly suspicious. He had a feeling that there was something going on with Rosemarie today; something that he might not at all like. Nonetheless, the sideways smile remained on his face, and he took a moment to take her hand and give it a friendly squeeze. The night in the graveyard several days ago had put him on good terms with the former Hunter; he was no reason to act differently just because of some suspicious gut feeling. Well. Not yet, anyway.

"Hmph." Rosemarie replied, squeezing his hand back and then pulling him towards her for a kiss. Why not butter him up a little bit before she set her plan in motion? He might handle it a bit better that way. "What? I can't have a happy smile on my face when I finally see my man after searching for him all day?" Her lips pulled forward into a small pout, her cobalt blue eyes peaking at him with her puppy dog eye accessories to the pout. "And why do I have to be questioned when I call you something other than Raven and Jackass? You have, like, a million nicknames for me." Rosemarie rolled her eyes at him, his little reminder that she didn't always love his little nicknames. "I thought maybe I could have one for you, sweetie pie." She pulled up her lips into the smile that obviously had something more to it; Raven just didn't know what.

"Rosie, sweetheart, are you on drugs?" Raven's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the smile that still hung on his lips became just the slightest bit smaller. "Because honestly, you're beginning to creep me out a little bit. What's your deal?" He gave a quiet chuckle and pecked the girl lightly on the tip of her nose. Rosemarie was never this cheerful around him, even on the best of days. She was always teasing or taunting or bringing something up that he didn't want discussed...and so this unusually good mood was nothing but concerning to Raven. He could tell, of course, that she had something weighing on her mind--probably involving him--but he didn't know what, and he didn't like that. Rosemarie was usually quite readable; this impish little attitude had no place with her. Or so he thought.

Rosemarie swatted him away with a mouth twitch that was probably supposed to be a scowl. "Raven I-Wish-You-Had-Given-Yourself-A-Middle-Name I am not on drugs. I can't believe you would even think of that." She knew that she wasn't acting like her usual self, and that was partly because she couldn't contain her excitement at her little prank. The other part was knowing that the reason behind her stellar mood was unknown to Raven, and she knew how much that would irritate her sadist. A small smirk played over her lips and she climbed down a branch, beckoning Raven to follow her with her finger. "Come here, darling," she drawled with a mysterious glint in her eye that should put Raven well into suspicions. "I have something for you." Without giving him the chance to question her anymore, Rosemarie was climbing her way down the tree.

"Yeah, well, I think I'll stay up here for a little while." Raven gave a brief chuckle and peered down at his Hunter, eyebrows raised. "Come on, Rosie, what do you think I am, stupid? If you do have something for me--and I'm not even sure if you do--it's probably not going to be something I'm a giant fan of." He'd managed to deduce that much, at least, and the gleam in the redhead's eyes did absolutely nothing to convince him otherwise. "I know how these things work," he went on, and now a small smirk curled at his lips. "You're not the only one who's ever been a fan of little surprise gifts for me." And, just as he said he would, the Indian stayed right where he was, only moving the slightest bit so that he could see Rosemarie better as she retreated down the tree. He had to admit, his curiosity was peaking now.

Rosemarie paused, only a fee branches above the soft ground where Raven's present still waited. She looked up at Raven, having to tilt her head to see him better between the dark green leaves. The mysterious glint in her eyes was hidden now, the irritation that now sparked in her bright gaze hid it well. Raven's surprise wasn't going to stay waiting for forever. She beckoned him again, with her whole hand now, less mysteriously than before. "Come on, Raven, hurry. You mean to tell me that you don't trust me?" She feigned a look of deep hurt, one hand that wasn't gripping onto a limb too fiercely placed itself on her chest, over her heart. "I try and do a nice thing and you shoot me down with suspicions! Now how am I supposed to take that?"

"Like a grown woman, sweetheart. Accept the fact that I am a naturally suspicious person and move on with your life." This comment brought on a laugh, and the Raven simply grinned down at Rosemarie. "Whatever you've got down there can just come up here," he told her. "Can't it? If it's not something that I'm not a giant fan of, then why do I have to come down? Why can't you bring it up?" Again, his eyes narrowed, as if he were challenging Rosemarie to come up with a plausible reason. That vagueness in her gaze was hidden, yes, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. And the Indian wasn't entirely sure that he believed it wasn't.

[Isn't Raven like nineteen now? God I kin if want Rosemarie to take advantage of the age difference. XD]

Rosemarie groaned openly at him, making sure that he knew just how much of a pain he was being for her. But that was Raven, and that was how he liked to do things. Rosemarie resisted the urge -and failed- to roll her eyes at him. "Because it's far too large to bring up to you, honey." Her voice lost some of its sweetness and suspicious innocence there. "It'd be a real hassle and it would just be so much easier if you could come down for me." A hopeful little smile, and an encouraging bat of the eyes was delivered to the sadist above her. "Please?" She tried hopefully, already dreading the climb up the tree with the bundle she'd brought that she sensed was coming in the near future.

((Sixteen when he enrolled, seventeen now. I thought Rosemarie was sixteen?))

Raven's eyes narrowed further, almost to slits now. "If it's so big, why bring it at all?" he asked, and he now sounded fully suspicious. "I can't think of anything I'd like to see that's too big to climb with. Even laptops can be carried up trees, and seeing one of those would be awesome." The Indian paused, tilting his head down so that he could study the bundle on the ground. Had he just seen it move? "Rosemarie," he said, "what the hell is in your jacket? I swear I just saw it squirm." And there was nothing living on his wishlist, he was sure about that. Whatever the redheaded Hunter had found for him, he was now sure he didn't want to see.

[Just turned. She'd been fifteen for a year so I changed it the other day.]

Rosemarie glanced down at the jacket. Yes, she had seen it move, as well. She decided to play it off as well as she could, but now Rosemarie was beginning to see that Raven wasn't going to cooperate at all, especially not with his suspicions growing as much as they were. "No, you didn't see it move. Maybe you're the one on drugs." She began to climb down the tree again, and then paused. She looked up at him again, her tone and gaze rather sharp. "Okay, I'll try and bring it up to you, but you'd better keep your eyes closed, okay?" She didn't wait for a response. She jumped down from the tree and disappeared from his view. She grabbed the bundle at the bottom of the tree, made sure it was completely covered, and looked up at the tree to find the best way to make it up to Raven without disturbing her surprise.

"Close my eyes? Hell no. I just saw something move in your jacket, Rosemarie Toom--and I never said that I wanted a pet to anyone, especially not you. So no, my eyes are going to stay open, thank you very much." A frown had replaced Raven's smile, small as it had been, and he now looked at Rosemarie--and at the bundle in her jacket--with open mistrust. He had no idea what was going on here, didn't like that, and had absolutely no intention of cooperating with anything his Hunter told him from this point on. What on earth was she trying to do to him?

Rosemarie's pixie-like face peeked her way through the leaves of the tree, her covered bundle held closely to her as she struggled to climb her way up the branches. "Raven, honestly, it's a jacket. Chill out." But the mischievous grin was back, and that was not something Raven should chill out about at all. The gleam in her eyes was back, full force now that she was making her way up the tree closer to her sadist. She had found the surprise today while she was trying to relax out in the park and as soon as she found it, she took it and went to find Raven. She was thoroughly going to enjoy the look on his face when he saw his surprise, and the thought of his reaction helped her to climb the tree faster. When she finally reached the Indian, she sat in the branch beside his, her bundle on her lap, a hand on it, forcing the slightly stirring bundle to stay in place. She sat there, grinning at Raven wordlessly.

"Shit," Raven sighed. He'd had a feeling things weren't going to go well when she got here, and now look at where they were. Nobody ever grinned at him like she was unless there was something to worry about--and judging by the way Rosemarie kept her hands around her bundle, as if to keep something within it calm, there was something to worry about. "So," he said, and he sounded almost reluctant to say the words, for fear of what would happen should Rosemarie actually listen to him for once, "what's in the jacket, you little witch? What've you got for me? You might as well just show it now, you're not fooling anybody. You never were."