St. Peter's Asylum discussion

"I'm here for you, sweetheart," Raven drawled with an amused little chuckle. "What kind of help are you looking for? Because I'm not helping you look for her file, if that's what you mean. Just look in the V's." He had a feeling, however, that that wasn't exactly what the little sadist-in-training had in mind. Still, it was fun to act like he didn't know; it often annoyed Rosemarie to no end.

And annoyed she was, but only slightly. She was more excited at the moment. "Cute," she told Raven with a roll of her eyes, and stooped down to look in the V's, while she ha been looking at the B's. It made more sense to her. "What I meant was whether I can play or not," she told him in a chiding tone. They both knew he was playing dumb.

[Is she medium or high?]

((Moderate.))

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't exactly give you permission when I don't know squat about the girl. Give me a file to look at and we'll see."

Oh, and here I thought we were here only to make out. Rosemarie thought sarcastically, but she didn't dare say it aloud. Knowing Raven, she would be showered with teases on the subject. The former Huntress didn't answer him at all, and kept looking for the file. Towards the middle of the drawer, her eyes lit up and she pulled out a clean, unbent manilla folder. Jt was basically brand new. "Here you are," she said, all but skipping through the file room to where Raven was leaning against the wall. She handed out the folder for him, though she was dying to open it herself.

[bear with me, I'm preparing dinner.]

((Understandable.))

Raven took the file from her hands, flipped it open, and began to skim. "Ooh, wow, this is new," he said, eyebrows rising with surprise. "Insanity runs in the family, looks like. Phoenix's mother stayed in St. Peter's back when she was a teenager. Sixteen through eighteen, looks like. Lucky her." There was a slight chuckle. "Like mother like daughter. There's an entire paragraph here dedicated to the oddness of Mrs. von Brandt. But that's not important. Hold on..." Raven moved on further down, finger trailing lightly along the clean white sheets of paper until at last he came upon something else worth mentioning. "Daddy issues," he reported. "Apparently, Mr. von Brandt lost his job when Phoenix was seven, tried drowning his sorrow with mixed success, and then started beating the shit out of his daughter on a regular basis." He was actually quite surprised at the length of the file; usually nurses didn't know so much about patients...it took a moment before he figured out the reason for the length. "Jesus, she killed the man less than a year ago. Poisoned him, blamed the death on allergies, called the cops a few minutes after and told them everything like it was the greatest accomplishment she'd ever made." He gave a long, low whistle. "Anger issues much?"

Rosemarie, who had been attempting to read over his shoulder, now looked up with raised eyebrows. "She actually told me most of that," she said with surprise. "Said her dad was an alcoholic and that they got into fights often. However, she didn't tell me she killed him." Maybe that had been the thing that had angered her, made her eyes light up. She didn't want to talk about her dad. If all he had done was beat her, Rosemarie called it fair game. She figured if she cared about her mother, then that would be an easy soft spot, as well. To Rosemarie, Phoenix was beginning to look easy enough. Anger issues, though, Rosemarie was beginning to wonder if she had underestimated the redhead. "What do you think?" She asked Raven, a bit anxiously.

"I say you tread lightly." Raven's lips pursed thoughtfully, and a crease developed between his eyes. At the moment, he wasn't sure. "You might want to go for the skunks," he suggested, and tapped the bottom of the file. "Says she has two. Apparently, they mean a lot to her. Threaten one or both of them and you might just get her in your palm." That or she'll go absolutely ballistic and put you in a hospital. "I'd watch it though," he went on, speaking his thoughts aloud. "According to the file, Phoenix is an actress extraordinaire. I wouldn't trust anything she says unless you're 100% positive that she's not putting you on." He paused with a slightly worried frown, glancing up at Rosemarie with dark and serious eyes. "She's certainly a good pick, Rosie, but I worry about you--she seems like quite a bit of a challenge for someone who's never played. If you do decide to try and break her, be careful. I don't want you to get hurt." And if the fifteen-year-old's file was anything to go by, there was a big chance that Rosemarie could end up hurt--one slip, and everything could (and would, by the sound of it) blow up in her face.

Rosemarie scowled a bit at the mention of her skunks, with which she was well acquainted with. She had certainly acted as though she thought she was the mother of the skunks, which Rosemarie had found odd, if not a bit disturbing. "I met the skunks today," she told him in a somewhat bitter tone. "They attacked Little Devil today." She thought now about the game and her strategies. If she took one of the skunks, held a knife to its throat, maybe she would be putty in her hands. Though, she could see the young redhead losing it and attacking her, she had seemed strong in a way, but yet, also weak. Rosemarie realized that one was probably an act. Now how could she tell the difference? According to her file, she would most likely attack her, but she was still a great pawn, and maybe if Rosemarie was careful, she could get away with it. She looked up from the file when Raven said he didn't want her hurt. She saw the worry on his face, and a small, gentle smile came across her own. An arm went around Raven's waist in a half hug. "I'll be okay," she assured him with a small pat on his side. "I'm just going to have to prepare for it a little bit better," she decided. It wasn't going to have to be spontaneous, Rosemarie thought she was going to have to come up with a plan.

"You better be okay," Raven said with a playful little snarl. "I can't go and beat up every single person who wrongs you, as much as it would please me. I'd just end up getting caught." He tossed one arm casually around the former Hunter's side and squeezed her to him in a half-hug. "Just be smart," he told her, and delivered a light peck to her lips. "Okay? Don't be rash. Have a plan. Have a story ready in case you get caught in the act. Stuff like that." He went back to his position against the wall, extending a hand to twirl one of Rosemarie's long red curls around his index finger. "You give me your promise, inadá, and I say go for it."

Rosemarie chuckled, although she knew that as history was beginning to show, he really did end up beating up people that had done her wrong. Hopefully things would end in her favor so that he wouldn't have to jump to her defense. "I know, and I'm already working on it. I'm getting a plan in my head, and I'm gonna be as careful as I can be." She pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. His finger was still twirling around a strand of her hair, and to prevent it being pulled, she looked up at him with her little smile still in place. "I promise," she told him. If he wanted a promise, she decided it wouldn't hurt. Standing on her tiptoes, the little former Huntress reached up to press his lip to hers gently.

"All right then." A nod. "Good."

((Fade.))

Drake was going through the files today, organizing the files from patients who were gone or dead to make room for the large bunch of patients he'd been told were coming. He was also glancing at files, hoping for any files that revealed that a patient had witnessed an attack from Carlos or had been attacked by him themselves. His initial plans had been destroyed when he had thought to ask Domonic until the fire, and now Domonic was in no shape to have a conversation. He hoped that Harper has faired better than he had.

The quiet sound of cheerful humming hailed Harper, who herself couldn't hear the melody on her own lips (coincidentally, it was Sean Kingston's Fire Burning) but didn't really care all that much besides. Everyone had been in such low spirits lately, she just had to do something to improve the general atmosphere--even if it meant humming along to a song that played only in her head and that she hadn't heard in years. When she opened the door to the file room (a doctor had provided her with an old key, though she didn't see the point of having one in the first place when the lock was so obviously used to being picked) and saw the back of a nurse--Drake, she thought, recognizing him from the pool--her spirits soared. He was a kind boy, and he had offered to help her with Carlos. Perhaps she was lucky and he was doing so now. The door opened with a quiet creak and Harper took two small steps so that she stood just inside the threshold, a small smile of greeting on her lips. Drake could hear; no doubt the sounds would make him turn around.

Drake did turn, if not a little bit warily at the sound of the door opening. He knew just as much as anyone that several patients were known for sneaking into the file room, and he didn't want to meet any of them now. He relaxed almost immediately when he saw the blue eyed deaf girl walk into the room. Her smile was returned along with a little wave of his hand and he stopped what he was doing to turn towards her for better view of his lips (he had remembered that she could read lips and trued to make it as easy as possible) and leaned against one of the cabinets lightly. "Hi, Harper!" He greeted her a the cold
Metal pressed into his shoulder. "I was going through files. Care to join me?"

Harper smiled, nodded, and gave Drake the thumbs-up sign. She crossed the room to the file cabinets, took a moment to peer in--they looked so empty with six different files missing, not to mention a seventh from that boy, the one who had been let out when his stepsister had died--and it was honestly a little odd. She took her phone out from her back pocket and didn't bother to look up as she typed: Whatcha doin? This place looks so empty. Are you sorting or something? That didn't seem like a job for nurses (sorting through files was something volunteers such as herself were assigned to do on a regular basis) and she couldn't help but wonder what business the goth nurse had in this small, dimly lit room. She turned the phone screen in his general direction so that he could see the message, and then looked up so that she would "hear" when he responded.

Drake nodded with another smile, but this smile was not as bright as the one he had given her when she had first arrived. He saw the lack of the files too, and it made his small smile falter some. "Yeah, I decided that while I went through them I could glance through and see if any of these patients have been attacked by Carlos or witnessed one of his moods. It's kind of like that saying, 'killing two birds with one stone'. Ever heard it?" His smile turned to a sheepish one at the last sentence. Obviously she hadn't heard the saying, but he didn't know how else to ask her.

But Harper understood what he meant, and she nodded. Yeah. Any luck? They sent me in here to catch up on some reading. Apparently, I'm not exactly knowledgeable enough about the patients to make my "wandering around," as the head doctor so charmingly put it, safe. She displayed the message, then pointed over at the high-security cabinet in the opposite corner of the room. She gave Drake a moment to read her words, then erased them and added on: I'm supposed to be over there, but I think I'd rather help you. I'm not planning on pissing off any of the dangerous ones any time soon. Anything I can even help with?

Drake frowned, one dark eyebrow raising and being lost in his floppy hair. "They made you read about dangerous patients? No offense, but who are they to tell you you don't know enough?" He shook his head with a little doubtful chuckle. That was ridiculous. Harper had so far gotten around just fine on her own so far, and he saw no reasons to force her to change that. He shrugged it off and decided to just respond to her next question and forget about the stupidity of the staff. "Umm you can if you want to," he said with a little shrug. "I'm not sure how you would like to help. I'm just making room for the new patients that are coming in soon." He looked down at the file cabinet, amusement flickering over his features. "It looks like I don't need to, though, huh? Maybe we should indulge ourselves on the knowledge of our dangerous patients." He sighed heavily, and pushed the file drawer shut. It complained with a loud squeak, but did give way.

Harper's own eyebrows rose. New patients? she typed, exaggerating her expression into one of thought and confusion. I didn't know we were getting any new patients around. Know anything about them? The only "new patient" the deaf volunteer had heard about lately was a younger girl named Phoenix (quite an usual name, she thought) who had managed to make herself the talk of the common room in a little over two weeks for reasons she hadn't exactly caught. Everyone always talked too fast in that room, especially when they knew she was listening--trying to get in on things, as it were. After all, she was a member of the staff. Foreign. Not to be trusted. It was disappointing, and frustrating, that so many patients thought that way, but things were as they were and Harper wasn't going to go around trying to change that. Sometimes she even welcomed being overlooked. Still, Drake was a fellow staff member. Perhaps he would be more open, though some back part of her doubted that he would know more than the patients. They were like ants in a hill, always communicating and moving. There was hardly ever--or so it seemed--a moment of silence.

"I wasn't given any specific details or anything," he assured her. "I was just told to get prepared for them. I guess there's quite a few coming in and someone new on the staff list." He looked at Harper and saw her confused expression. Why was it she never seemed to know anything? Was she really not told anything by anyone other than himself? Geez, the poor girl was probably more confused than he thought. He mentioned Phoenix's name, and he nodded in recognition (though it would be hard to forget a name like hers). He wondered if Harper knew about Phoenix. He had been one of the first to know about it when she sought him out to fix her wounds and now rumors about her and Rosemarie were going ramped. "Do you know what happened to Phoenix?" He asked curiously.

Harper shrugged, and made the 'sort of' sign with one hand. Yes? she typed. Her name is on everyone's lips lately, but as soon as they see me trying to figure out what's going on the start talking really fast and I can't understand a word anyone is saying. She mimed the movements, shaping her lips and often running them together in an imitation of quick speech, then threw her hands up as if exasperated and rolled her eyes. Something about some skunks and another girl named Rose or something like that. Couldn't really catch her name, either. As she displayed the message she looked up at Drake, thin eyebrows rising with curiosity. She pointed at him, as if to ask if he knew something, and then raised an eyebrow as if to ask why he wanted to know.

"I wondered what you knew," he explained. So his suspicions had been correct; Harper didn't know any of the rumors. "I will fill you in because Phoenix told me what happened when I had to help put her fingers back together." He raised a hand, a gesture to tell the deaf girl his words were nothing to worry about. "Anyways, she came in with her fingers almost falling off, and she told me that Rosemarie Toom -you know about Rosemarie, right?- grabbed her pet skunk the other day and then started to mess with her head and torment her. She cut her pet skunk but I don't know how her fingers fell off but that's what happened, I guess. I don't know what else went down, though. I didn't really ask."

For a moment, horror flashed across Harper's face. She held up one hand, then ran the index finger of the other across all four fingers, as if to ask if they had literally been amputated. How could she not have heard about something that serious? How could anyone not have? It was true, she'd been able to make out the word 'fingers' several times when the oddly named girl was brought up, but she'd never been able to catch the fact that any limbs had actually been lost. She blinked quickly, shook the troubling thoughts away, and then typed with hands that shook just slightly: Holy shit! She cut them off? All of them? Why isn't that Rosemarie girl in solitary?!

Drake read the text, and then his dark brown eyes widened in horror. "Oh! No, no, no! I'm sorry, you misunderstood me. She didn't cut them off, but she cut them pretty badly. It was deep, so I don't know how she could have done such a thing with one cut." Drake frowned slightly at the thought, his eyebrows pulling together and creating wrinkles in between his eyebrows. "She's been in solitary before. All of a sudden she's becoming more and more violent. It mostly started with Akantha Anderson. The girl in the wheelchair? She's in there because of Rosemarie. If she doesn't stop being so violent, we might have to do something more drastic than just putting her in solitary the next time she acts up."

Harper let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, actually slumping against the counter in relief. One hand went up to her chest, over her heart, and she looked up at the ceiling as if to say Oh thank God. She was surprised to find that her heart rate had actually picked up--since the car accident ten years ago, she realized that she hadn't ever heard about, experienced, or witnessed anything as violent as what she had mistaken Drake for saying. It was a relief to know it wasn't true. To take her mind off of this slip of tongue, she typed, So who is Rosemarie? A trauma patient or some dangerous psychopath? Could she be having flashbacks, like Carlos? Could she be off her medication? Is she known to have violent outbursts or anything like that? The deaf volunteer was wracking her brain, trying to recall everything the Internet, books, and the doctors here had taught her. For such a quickly-typed response, she thought she'd covered the bases pretty well.

Drake shook his bead at the first two questions, but maybe the last one? He hadn't noticed how the girl had become slightly panicked by the thought of such violence being undertaken. "No flashbacks that we know of and her history is pretty well known. She wouldn't have attacked any females if such were the case. Medication, I'f also say no. She doesn't have to take too much compared to some." He snapped his fingers, pointing one up into the air as he got an idea. The goth went to the cabinet towards the back where only some certain patients' -the worst and most violent ones- files were kept. "Why don't we look her up? Se what we can find?"

Harper nodded and gave a shrug, mouthing Sure. She headed on over, eyebrows rising slightly as she slid open one of the drawers and found it to be even more full than the low-security cabinet. Did St. Peter's really have that many dangerous psychopaths running around? She could only figure that some of the moderate-securities had been mixed in here due to occasional violent tendencies. Carlos, perhaps. Or this Phoenix girl.

Drake, too raised his eyebrows at how many files were in the cabinet. "Wow," he breathed more to himself than to Harper. The drawer was practically bursting with files. He didn't think that there were as many violent patients as there were files. Perhaps this drawer needed to be redone again to take out old files of violent patients. He dove into the drawer and looked through until he found the young girl's file. He pulled it out and began to read it, leaning the papers in Harper's direction so that she could read the file as well. "Says here she killed before she got here, but wasn't violent for the first two years she was here. In fact, she hardly ever talked to anyone during that time."

Harper frowned a little. So we trace her activities in the asylum, she told him, giving him a moment to read the message before erasing it and moving on. What changed? Obviously something did. She started seeing someone, or something happened to her that made her worse. Maybe she herself was attacked? Or tormented, like the Phoenix girl? Traumatic events could certainly play parts in the degrading sanity of anyone, especially already-fragile mental patients. If Rosemarie had been mostly all right before she came here, and docile for the years after she arrived, something drastic had to have happened to make that change. It was the only logical explanation.

"Ummmm it doesn't say anything in her file." He flipped the page over, hoping for more information, and not finding anymore on her file, but there were several reports on another piece of paper. "Apparently a member of the staff has been lending an ear to the gossip," he commented, pointing to a report and showing it to Harper. "Says she's been involved with the ever famous Raven, though there hasn't been any evidence to prove it. It's just rumors that went on among the patients. Reports of her violence is sprawled out randomly afterwards."

Harper looked suddenly decisive. It was him, then, she typed. There was no doubt in her expression--even as a volunteer she had heard the horror stories about the Indian, who himself had started out small before realizing what kind of games and how many kicks he could get out of such an unstable environment full of so many fragile people. She could never be sure, but she figured that the power his reputation gave him had played a part in things too. He either did something to her or they've started seeing each other. I've seen a man bring a woman down to his level so many times back in Baltimore that it's not even funny--and vice versa, too, but we're not concerned about what she might have done to him. A pause, and the deaf volunteer looked at Drake with raised eyebrows as if to ask if he thought he was knew enough to contradict her.

Drake read and then raised his eyebrows, recognition shining in his brown eyes. "Oh, you know what?" He said, pointing at an attack on another patient but not looking at it. "I remember when this attack happened. Raven was in the infirmary because someone poisoned his coffee. I was the only nurse who would look after him. Anyways, Rosemarie was in there almost every day with him." He had almost forgotten about when he had to check on Raven a lot when she was there or else his heart monitor would go crazy. "I almost banned her from going in to see him once. Raven's heart monitor was going insane and when I went in to check on him she was sitting up in the hospital bed with him. So I'm going to guess that they're seeing each other." He shook his head, feeling dumb himself. Why had it taken him this long to figure that out? He decided that he must not have really dwelled on the thought until he had to.

Harper couldn't help but crack a smile. If things had gotten that bad in the infirmary, the redhead and her partner must either have been very intimate or very in love--or both. She tried, for Drake's sake, not to laugh, but couldn't stop a quiet chuckle from escaping her nonetheless. All right then, she typed, looking amused. We have our culprit. So what do we do? Is this problem with Rosemarie getting worse? Is it enough to be concerned about? Should we threaten them? Talk to Raven? Rosemarie? Both at once? Obviously, this isn't something we want snowballing. According to pretty much everyone, one sadist is quite enough for this place.

Drake shook his head quickly, though he had to bite back his own laugh. Talk to Raven? Harper was obviously very new. "No, talking to Raven will just get you killed or seriously injured. There's a reason I'm practically the only person in this asylum who would be willing to help him if he needed it. No one ever confronts Raven about anything. I'm one of the fee people he hasn't attacked and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't know about Rosemarie, though. We might be able to talk to her, but what would you want to say?" Rosemarie wasn't as intimidating as Raven, but she was obviously dangerous and if he could prevent anyone from getting hurt, staff or patient, he would certainly try his best.

Harper rolled her eyes. Bullshit, she typed. People have been trying to beat the crap out of me on a regular basis because I'm a mutie. What's another body cast? She tossed her head, rather haughtily, to cover up the brief but powerful flash of pain that the words she typed brought on. It was certainly true that she was used to getting jumped, and it was certainly true that she had been put in a full-body cast before, but that didn't mean she looked forward to another. Still, she'd looked weak enough earlier when she panicked over a simple misunderstanding. If you don't want to talk to either of them, that's fine--I can do that. They might not even take too badly to it because they don't know me and I'm not trying to micromanage their lives. No offense. Harper raised a hand to emphasize the last two words. I'll see what's going on. I'll talk to Rosemarie first and see if I can't find out why she's playing all Raven's games--it's clear she never had an interest in it before. Sound good?

"You don't need to get hurt, though," he told her. He didn't want Harper on Raven's list of victims, or Rosemarie's if it came to that. He, like every other person in the asylum, would much rather leave them alone and punish Rosemarie when needed (he wouldn't even consider going near Raven with such threats). "We can both go to Rosemarie," he told her as he put the former Huntress's file back into the drawer. "We wouldn't have to go to Raven at all, I bet. She'll tell him everything we tell her. I can guarantee it."

Harper shrugged, agreeably enough. Okay. We'll do that. I think I'd better talk to her first, though--she doesn't know me and she kind of owes me for saving that little girl during the fire. One of the things that the patients around her had actually told her was that the former Huntress was incredibly grateful to her (though Rosemarie no doubt had no idea who she was) for picking up the ball where she herself had dropped it. Perhaps that could earn her some points.

"Morgan? Huh. I never realized Rosemarie had anything to do with her." The blind girl had been another one of Raven's few visitors. Morgan was such an adorable little girl- how could she be involved with two sadists in a way that was positive? "Okay, if you think that will work, go for it. I'll be right behind you if you need me anyways, though."

Harper smiled, clapped him on the shoulder, and offered a wink. Thanks, Drake. Nice to know someone'll talk to the mutie. See you around! She gave him a few moments to read the message, the turned around, slid the phone back into her pocket, and walked on out of the room. Maybe she would give Rosemarie and Raven a couple of days before she got involved--just to see how this whole "situation" with the new patient Phoenix went. The second it (or any other situation) evolved, she would step right in and see if she could nip the problem in the bud. It just might work.

((Fade?))

[Fade.]

Inside the file room stood a small figure, hunched over the file cabinet for low security patients. Many said that the file room was so simple to break into because the lock hardly worked, and it had proven to be true for the figure in the dark room, who had never broken into anything in her life, and it had taken minimal effort to break into the file room and look for the file of the tattooed girl that the figure had met in the cafeteria weeks ago. The figure was Rosemarie Toom, former Huntress, sadist-in-training, and a girl who was very hurt and confused to why this girl could be so frightened of her when she had done nothing to her. The nurses were partly at fault, which was why she had not gone to any staff member looking for answers to her questions to which she doubted they would answer. Immediately, they would think she was looking for dirt to torture the girl with, but Rosemarie wanted none of that and if anything, somehow wanted to find a way to protect the girl from the asylum. In order to do that, she needed her information and after weeks of thinking it over, she had managed to convince herself to sneak into the file room and retrieve her file. The ex-Hunter was clearly nervous that she would be caught, and although she hated that her back was to the door, she had no choice. She didn't know Leah's last name, so she had been searching for half an hour for the girl. Finally, she came across a newer looking folder and with her back still toward the door, opened it. Success! It was, indeed, Leah's file. Curiously, Rosemarie began to read the girl's file and in her excitement, had carelessly left her back towards the door.

"Well, well, well. Someone is certainly eager to be all up in somebody else's business, aren't they?" The voice--smooth and slightly mocking, an amused purr of sorts--belonged to Raven, who stood in silhouette just past the threshold of the door. His arms were crossed, and a smile that wasn't visible in the poor light was tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't say that he wanted to scare the girl with her back to the door, but he certainly wanted to startle her. It would serve as a lesson, he thought now: never ever ever leave the door to the file room cracked, and more importantly, don't keep your back to it. Rosemarie was so immersed in that file of hers, she wouldn't have noticed even if he had been a nurse who'd come to check up on a patient, and what would she have done if he was? He would have caught her completely red-handed, and that would've landed her nowhere good. It was time she learned how to be more alert.

Rosemarie jumped, dropping the file onto the floor with a loud slap. She turned around quickly, knowing it was too late, she was already caught. She was so relieved when she saw it was only Raven, but it did nothing to control her now racing heart. "Maybe," she drawled out in a mischievous tone, moving forward to tug him towards her, the file on the floor temporarily forgotten. She hadn't seen Raven since their date, and for the moment, her attention was all his. "Curious yourself, Atsásdá Ulasigi?" She asked as she pulled herself into him, hugging him tightly and allowing her head to rest on his chest for a moment. Her pronunciation, at least better, was still terribly inaccurate, though she had practiced nearly every day since she had given him the name. She stood up onto her tiptoes to kiss his lips, knowing she only had a few moments before she would be scolded for being so careless. She hoped the kiss would butter him up or distract him all together. She deserved it, she knew, but it was nice to get out of any chastising if she could.

Raven couldn't help it: he let out a low chuckle and tried to force a grin from his lips without success. "Getting better, inadá," he murmured. But unfortunately for Rosemarie, the Indian was not completely distracted. "But that's not the point now. The point now is that you are a completely careless little fox." He turned his head and waved a hand at the file room door. "You had your back to me! What if I had been a nurse? Or a patient who wouldn't have been so happy to see you? You'd have been screwed over." He tapped her on the head with his index finger, just between the eyes. "Rule number three of the game," he began, in his best lecture-hall voice, "always keep alert, especially in areas where you aren't supposed to be. Like here." His voice was grave but his gaze had softened a little when he looked at her and he didn't sound as threatening as he had in the park the day of the fire. "Understood?" And his eyes were trained on Rosemarie's, too busy trying to communicate the importance of rule number three to register the name of the file on the floor. For now, the unknown patient whose story lay in the folder was not on his mind.

The former Huntress suppressed a sigh. No, she hadn't been able to completely distract him, which she guessed was as deserved as his scold. "I'm sorry," she said, grabbing his hand that he had used to poke her between the eyes an opening it to kiss the palm. "I was trying to multitask. Keep my attention on the door and the file." The ex-Hunter suddenly remembered the file and turned towards it anxiously. She had started to let her emotions show around Raven, seeing no reason to hide how she felt, especially when he could read through her anyway. Now, it was only when they were playing a game or teasing she attempted to hide her emotions from him. Now, just like the file had been earlier, Raven was temporarily forgotten, left at the door while she sat on the floor and opened the file. She skipped everything after confirming that she had grabbed the right file, and went right to her history, finger trailing underneath the words she was reading. She just had to know why Leah was scared of her.

Raven's eyebrows rose at this. "Good grief, somebody's anxious," he muttered, rather to himself, and knelt down to read over the ex-Hunter's slim shoulder. Was she really that desperate for new prey? It took him a moment to realize why that would make sense, but after a second, things clicked (or at least, they did in his head) and then he smiled. "Leah Donner?" he said thoughtfully, more of a question than anything else. He skimmed her appearance section briefly, and recognized the girl form her photos. "I saw her a few days ago. She's very new, very skittish, and very..." he trailed off for a moment, trying to find the right word. "Interesting." The emphasis he placed on the word, coupled with the smile now on his lips, proved that it was not the good kind of interesting the Indian had on his mind. "You picked well, Rosie--but I have to say, this girl might be a little too easy. Even for you." He chuckled as he spoke, as unaware as ever. He thought Rosemarie was looking for a new victim--that had been the only thing on her mind when he'd last caught her on here, after all. He had no reason to expect any different.

Rosemarie was much further down the page than Raven, and had read what she had subconsciously expected since she met Leah. Her hand came up, covering her mouth, and tears that Raven couldn't see came to her eyes. It was beginning to show scarishly true how close to Lisa really really was, right down to her sad, sad eyes that broke the former Huntress's heart. She was so distracted, she missed half of what Raven said to her, but she had heard enough to understand what it was that was going through her sadist's head. "What? No!" She whipped around, looking rather furious, which was surprising to her and would most certainly be surprising to her mentor. She had met this girl once and was strangely over protective of her after just one vague meeting. It was hard to understand, but could be understood if she explained her situation, which she had not. She had no reason to be furious, and not at Raven, certainly, but Rosemarie's mind wasn't thinking quite clearly suddenly and it could only think that she had to protect Leah, who in her mind, was more Lisa than Leah. "She's not prey," she said, anger evident in her voice and she fixed Raven with a pointed look (almost a glare) that said, not prey for anyone.

Raven blinked, instinctively jerking back a bit when Rosemarie rounded on him. "Not prey?" he repeated, incredulously, "What do you mean she's not prey? Did you even read her file? She has more triggers than Ruby does--than Ruby did, excuse me--how the hell could you not be interested in going a round or two with her? It's practically the perfect situation. Besides, it's clear you need the practice." His voice, unlike hers, was rather calm (if a little surprised) and he did nothing except for raise his eyebrows a little. He didn't understand Rosemarie's sudden (and rather unprecedented, now that he thought about it) outburst, and he certainly didn't understand the look she was giving him now. It was almost as if he were Jason and had just decided to report her to the staff. For once, the Indian was more surprised than calculating, and he was too busy trying to determine if the ex-Hunter was actually going to go for his throat to over-analyze the situation. What on earth had gotten into her?

"I don't care how many triggers she has," she told him, standing now. The sudden angry energy that had come up from somewhere inside of her was restless, and she had to move. It wasn't right to snap on him, and the timing to do so was atrocious, and she knew that in the back of her mind, but her main thoughts were focused on Leah, protecting her from danger and right now, Raven was acting as a danger. "She's not prey, I'm not having any rounds with her and neither are you." It wasn't a request and she wasn't asking him to please not harm her, but she was commanding him, which was completely unlike her. No matter what, she was usually at least somewhat polite with him, and understanding as well. Now, she wasn't explaining herself at all, just looking at him as if he had just offended her somehow. She was clearly shaking from her sudden anger and there was the slight fear. If Raven didn't listen to her, played a game with Leah in spite of her, she would really blow her top with him and there was fear of what could come of that if that did really happen. "I may need more practice, but how the hell would you expect me to get more practice anyway when nurses are on my ass? In case you haven't noticed, I need to lie low a little bit and even if I didn't need to lie low, I wouldn't prey on her. Not ever." His comment did nothing to help her sudden rage and only added fuel to the fire and added to the angry light in her eyes as well or perhaps those were the tears not yet shed from before. It was hard to tell.

Raven's reaction, strong as it was, was purely an instinctive one. In an instant he was on his feet, his own eyes starting to blaze, and before he knew it his hand was raised and cracking hard against the cool softness of Rosemarie's cheek. In the same movement he grabbed her (one hand on her shirt collar and the other on her upper arm) swung her around, and slammed her back against the wall hard enough to send shocks up his arms. It was only when he registered that she seemed heavier than usual that he realized he was holding her completely up off the floor. He released his hold around her collar, letting her down, and instead settled for pinning her back against the wall with his hands pressing into both shoulders. "What?" was the first word out of his mouth, and it was not a snarl or a growl but an outright hiss. Dark eyes, staring straight into hers, looked not like onyx stones now but fierce black fire. "What did you say? Just who in hell do you think you are, Rosemarie Toom?" Had she just given him an order? Yes, he thought, a completely illogical one--she had just snapped on him as if he had spoken of a desire to snap her bow, she was so angry--and for what? Over a little girl? A complete stranger to her, who under normal circumstances (and he thought they were under normal circumstances) would have become game of the week before she could blink? That was not okay. No, that was downright forbidden. And the Indian was going to make sure the ex-Hunter realized that, whether she wanted to or not--and he would not hesitate to use violence to help her along.