Bird's Nest opened up some months later, and was quickly established as a place that would take anyone, no matter how difficult, how agressive, how unhealthy or how many criminal convictions they might have had in the past. Soon enough a lot of cases that had proved too hard to for other homes or families to handle were shipped over to Bird's Nest . They seemed to have a good reputation for thier work....but as new cases arrive,d more problematic than the last...would it be too much? Or would the arrivals end up being a help to each other?
Co-owner: Fenix Knight
Teenage Residents (Going to add slots on here as needed I think, seeing as this turned out to be pretty popular.)
1-Reserved for Me :D
2-Reserved for Cooper
3-Reserved for Cooper
4-Reserved ~Nutty~*Green Neko*
Character Skeleton: Staff
Appearance: (Any sort of format/image type acceptable.)
Character Skeleton: Resident
Time at Bird's Nest:
Reason for transferral to Bird's Nest:
Appearance: (Any format/image type acceptable.)
Skills: (If any)
Medical Conditions: (If any.)
2) Be polite in OOC.
3) Make your posts understandable and all.
4) Make sure your character fits in with the setting, it's supposed to be realistic and everything.
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I guess we're all crazy here, he thought.
He stepped into the kitchen and saw the angry guy pulling a girl into a hug. Another girl sat limply at the table, a piece of toast untouched on her plate. Jason addressed the skinny girl at the table.
"Excuse me? Uh, do you know if we can just take, like, whatever?"
He chastised himself for being so nervous-sounding.
"Yeah, you can just take whatever," Priya said, eyeing the food carefully, as she wheeled up to the table.
"Hey," he said. "I'm Jason. I'm new here, and I promise, I don't bite."
Wanda got more flustered at this, and eventually came over to him. She struggled to speak, not able to get out much but stammered I's.
"I was trying to be friendly... you know, making a joke?" he said.
Jason felt bad for the skinny girl... she was stammering helplessly. He almost laughed but then chastised himself for even thinking of doing such a thing.
"Uh, hey, forget about the breakfast. Wanna go over in the other room with the rest of the, uh, residents?"
There was no response, of that he was certain. His arm was a blinding pain, held into a twisted position that had him flinching with every tiny movement; he wanted to sit down rather badly for some reason, but a frantic part of himself forbade it. He wondered, in a brief moment of clarity, just what would happen if he allowed his knees to buckle, but the threat of more pain made him hold still. He might have cried out, but there was no judging how much of the shrieking was in his head and how much actually broke past the fog and escaped his gritted teeth.
Vaguely, he knew that a dislocated shoulder could be put back in. He had done it himself on occasion, given how often it decided to displace itself, but for the life of him he couldn’t think why he was thinking of it. He blinked. His eyes found the Big Nurse for a moment, noting that she was saying something, the words lost in a haze of pain and misery. Her letting him go, however, registered, and sent him staggering back with a strangled cry. He wanted nothing more than to be as far away from the woman as possible, but the pain in his arm rapidly curtailed his intentions to bolt through the door and away; seconds after staggering away from her he wound up on his knees, sobbing over his twisted arm.
“...where’s Horatio?” he asked bitterly, hardly expecting to get an answer.
"Listen, Max...I can probably put your shoulder back in line if you let me, but I'm not going to do it unless you agree. If you pull away while I'm doing it it would only cause more complications, so it's up to you. Will you let me re-set your arm?" she asked, trying to sound as understanding as was possible in the situation, with her pride still rather battered.
“No.” His voice was faint but determined, and he clutched his arm protectively against his chest. Anterior dislocation, his mind quietly supplied, while the rest of him howled and trembled. “Don’t touch me.”
Underneath the clearly shocked calm there was a lurking fear and what might have been disgust, though he was a little too distressed to be accurately judged. His eyes, when they found the woman, where wild. “You can’t.” The walls, Lakesha, Fenix, everything was spared a quick, frightened glance. “Not a doctor. Not allowed. Illegal.”
It was hard to swallow around his continued tears and unsteady breathing, but he managed after an extended moment, licking his lips. “What- what is... this place?” he gasped, twitching his uninjured arm towards the room in general. “Prison...? Outside the law... 1984! ...battered by the Big Nurse...”
There was a definite tinge of hysteria in his narrative and the way that he laughed then, but he managed to reign himself back into some semblance of control after three unsteady breaths. “I want to go to the hospital. I want Horatio.” Max drew himself up lopsidedly, gathering his shredded pride around him like a tattered blanket. “I want a real doctor... you’re not doctors. You’re carers... social workers... whatever... you’re not nurses... and nurses aren’t allowed to do that anyway... you’re certainly not a doctor. This place... what is this place. Fagin? Big Brother?” He laughed again. “Atticus was half blind but he was still the best shot in the village; I want Horatio.”
"I was just offering if you'd prefer not to suffer being in pain like this until they're ready to see you, but it's entirely your decision." she responded.
She took a phone out of her pocket, taking a few steps away in order to give the resident Doctor a call regarding what was going on and what would be neede,d though inwardly all she felt was a massive sinking feeling, as it appeared the only thing the boy was intetested in was trying to pick at everything he came across. She was tempted to argue about his claims of being 'battered', cosnidering it was his pulling that had injured him, but decided better of it considering they were in enough potential trouble already.
"Doc, uh we've just got a new arrival and he's managed to get a dislocated shoulder....yeah...sorry it's all been a bit of a disaster so far. How soon will you be ready? Alright, twenty minutes." she stated.
She ended the call and looked round.
"Well, er...if you don't want me to help you you're going to have to make your own way to the clinic on the ground floor."
“Please,” he whispered, all of his former arrogance falling away to leave a vulnerable child crouching where a belligerent young man had stood not so long ago. There were no longer tears running down his face, but his shocked, panicked expression suggested there would be more when the full force of the emotional reaction caught up with him. “Please, I won’t tell anyone.”
His voice was frail, thoughts running faster than he had ever felt then run before; the Big Nurse wouldn’t let him leave. He wasn’t committed... he can’t have been sectioned without knowing about it... this wasn’t prison, he’d never let himself do anything that bad... “I won’t tell anyone. It just comes out. Honest. But- I’ll say I did it climbing out the window. Please, just- please let me go to the hospital.”
He huddled into a protective ball around his arm, feeling the combined weight of the two wrong choices threaten to smother him. He didn’t want to let this unqualified woman set his arm (illegal! Dangerous, his frantic mind wailed), but he didn’t know where this other doctor was. He didn’t want to see some stranger, and the idea of walking through the house with his arm in such a state, trying to find this mysterious and unheard-of doctor... Hansel and Gretel; he’d be stuffed in the oven for sure.
“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want. I won’t- I’ll pretend I can’t talk. Anything. Just- please let me go to the hospital. Or call Horatio! Please, he’s in town...” Momentarily, panic surged up to choke him; what if they stopped the man becoming his legal guardian now that he was in this place? “He’s a doctor... he knows how to get to the hospital. If you don’t want to take me he can. I mean-” Panic. “-I don’t mean you won’t want to just- ...if you’ve not got time.”
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