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Lacross Cromwell

"If one were to look hard enough, one will find sophistication in savagery..."

0 · 539 views · located in St. Joans Medical institute

a character in “Dead Poets society”, as played by Vestiline

Description

Name: Lacross Cromwell

Gender: Male

Age: 16

Reason for breakdown: Lacross says that he doesn't know what caused him to be sent here, while the truth is that he flew into an unprovoked rage, that only be described as that of a rampaging animal, that injured several people and leaving him with no memory of the event.

Appearance: Lacross's hair reaches about shoulder length and is black with some streaks of gray in it. His eyes are gray with dark bags under them and is pale from lack of sun. (and too much night that some people say) Has a dancers build, and has scars on his arm and shoulder. His hair is normally worn fairly messy, looking more like a mane. He normally wares mostly robe like clothing or fairly loose, practical clothing.

Likes: Moon gazing, the smell of the air after a rainstorm, walking during the night hours, Music with either a lot of base or a strong rhythm (folksongs like sea shanties or songs from the 1940's-50's catch his attention), free running, writing every now and again.

Dislikes: those who try to restrict him, bright lights, arrogance, being looked down on for how he is.

Habits: One of the more obvious ones is his habit of walking around on all fours when around those he is comfortable with. This does have a purpose, his free running and overall coordination. Those that are less obvious, but almost always present are "licking his chops" (licking his mouth in approval of any sort), answering to being called with a small noise, purring when content and growing low when irritating. He also has a stash of writings that he stashes away, not knowing what to do them.

History: Lacross's home life was all but non-existent for he rarely was in his home. Most of his time was spent outside on his family's land. All 30 or so acres of it. Why? Most the time his parents bickered with each other, but did have the time to tend to him and try to turn him again one another. When he was around 4 years old, his father built him a rather elaborate tree house to win his affection. It only serve to give him a place to sleep in the woods all night. Over time, He noticed urges that seemed to override his finer tastes. Urges that he could only describe as more like a beast. His sleeping in the home that was built for him outside, he assumes, may have started this. Soon, now in the company of more 'sane' persons, other habits started to develop. Most noted was his running in the night and screaming to the full moon. Irritation with his fellow human started to become more apparent to the point of avoidance of but a few close friends. This irritation soon turned to violence against a band of jocks cornering him. He doesn't remember the instance, all he knows is that he woke up a few hours later in the police station and was told that the boys where in the hospital with server wounds and that he was (to put it politely) a hassle to bring down. No more then a raving animal.

Theme song: Das tier in mir by E Nomine

Other(not required): Most of his writings he keeps on his are on a note pad, though most of the time the robes and his room provide him with a place to hide them.

So begins...

Lacross Cromwell's Story

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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A place by any other name was still a cage. White washed walls in some places and other that one could see as the lair of a dragon or another monster of an unsavory nature. Lacross wandered the halls, slumped over and leaning on the wall from waking up from a tranquilizer induced slumber. His breathing had something of a rumble to it. A content smirk on his face as he swung his hand into his face weakly. Blood stained the inside of his grown out finger nails. "The day's been good so far. The white dance will welcome stains." he muttered to himself as he stumbled down the hall. Lacross had always been a hardy one and the tougher of the 'patients' to bring down. Now that he was wobbling around like a spinning egg, he might as well have been a sitting duck for anyone who wanted to take him down.

However, Lacross was a recent addition (as in about a mouth since he arrived) to this hell hole he would now have to call home. The doctors had told him, after lovingly putting him in a haze of meds and sedatives after biting a nurse, that he had a case of 'species dysphoria', telling that it was going to be a while for him to integrate into human society. Lacross had scoffed if off as someone telling him what he already knew and knew how to manage it. He had discovered the humans where not the problem was what he tried to explain, but the doctor would have none of it and had him sent back to his room. He didn't leave with out a fight though, which led to him being knocked out and in the position he was in now. High, head throbbing and looking for somewhere to lair in that wasn't his room.

Lacross had to go by his room first, making sure that nothing was out of place. Including papers that spilled out of drawer and under his mattress. The robes that he wore where big enough to hide them on his person before slinking off into the darkest parts of the asylum. The parts yet to be finished and never will. He hummed the whole way, stumbling, but never falling to thee ground, singing to himself in a language that he could only remember and repeat from memory. The darkness of the abandoned part of the institute gave him comfort as lacross started to wander further into it. Hoping in the least the staff wouldn't find him as he slumped against as wall and slid to the floor, taking out a pen that he had stolen off a nurse and scribbling down anything that came to mind.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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Lacross's writing was frantic, printing the writing in small print so that he could fit as much as he could on the notepad. He was balled in on himself, as if trying to hide in the hall, having not found a suitable room to lair in to write. It wasn't that he was cold in the hall. Far from it for the robes that he had, the inside lined with rabbit fur, kept him quite warm if the abandoned part of this place would become quite cold. His hands turned red from the pressure from the pen, but soon turned back their normal pale color once they stopped in their track from someone making him loose his train on thought.

His eyes turned to the person first, making something of a small 'worrr' noise from his attention being caught. Once realizing that this person wasn't someone on the staff, the rest of his head turned toward her. Her question took a minute to register before shaking his head in realization. "To write is to preserve, to realise and to let go. Understanding is to keep your mind." he said, going back to his writing. He knew that he could have answered her in a much simpler manner, but his mind wasn't on the track at the moment. The reason he didn't talk to often when he was writing. Again he stopped and sigh. Having now lost his train of thought, but finished a good bit of what he was doing in the (what seemed like) few minutes and alleviation of the tranquilizer, but still felt some what drowsy from it.

He looked over to the girl again, now sitting more like an animal then human in this case. "what can I do for you since you found me?" he mused to her, tilting his head to the side. He stuffed the note pad into his sleeve, hoping not to loose it to a potentially theiving fellow 'patient'. All sorts of paranoid thought started to run through his head. Was this someone posing as a patient? Or some over seer trying to provoke him in the long run? More of these thought flew by, but his face never showed it. Sure the abandoned parts of the institute where not a secret to those who frequented the area, but he hoped that his girl would at least leave him some peace after seemingly greeting him. The last thing someone like him wanted was someone following him around.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross's eyes snapped to molly in attention. He held his nails up to his face, now realizing the blood from earlier. "Not quite. A nurse tried to force me to take medication I didn't need and I clawed at her face." he said a matter-a-factly as he put his hand down. "I don't like being forced into things I don't like, and as for me being here, I'm not quite sure." He tilted his head on the floor. "what brings you to this place?" he said before something caught his attention once again. Something in the distance. A figure, but all he was able to make out was that it wasn't a staff member and that the figure was female. Possibly a lost inmate or something of the like. "One moment. I'll be back." He said, trotting in the direction of the figure on all fours. His nails tapped on the concrete along with the quickness of his pace, but he was also cousious of this figure. Knowing full well that some of the other crazed of the institute were not as docile as molly.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Sadie Blarke
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Lacross lowered his head in submission, trying to tell her without words that he was not threat. That he meant no intention to harm, nor wanted to. The woman's words sent chills down his spine. It was obvious that she wanted to be left alone, but he didn't want her to be cold or get lost in this place. He thought of a compromise in his mind for this. He stopped at a distance and paced back and forth, his head down and avoiding eye contact.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright." he said in a hushed tone, hoping not to scare her. Or at least as much as his habits could allow. He was clearly animalistic in nature, and normally that put people off. Scaring them even to see him as no more then a common animal. He had never seen this woman before and didn't want her to run and get herself caught by the orderlies on his behaf. Never mind that it would be better for him to be at a distance then be close up if she were to be hostile. The gentileness of him made him come there, the curiousness of him made him pace and stay around her.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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Lacross was baffled, almost as if the traquilzer was working it's magic again. As much as he would like some answers, there was another addition to the fray. He sighed. Sometimes, one had to see this for himself to get what he wanted.He growled in irritation with the situation. "For the love of the pale lady, I'll come if it means getting the answers I seek." He said, sighing to calm himself for thoughts of ripping off his face for some kind of cure to his curiosity. No wonder didn't see himself as human. Too strightforward, too beastial, too easily angered. It didn't bother him to leave his room at nights anyway. They thought he slept all day, but in fact he was up nights trying to find a way outside. His need to vent and howl to the heavens was sorely needed and missed. If it meant going his calls to the wild hunt were actually going to answered since coming here, maybe "sanity" could be reached.

He reach for his the fallen part of his robe, trying to ignore the comment made about him. In all honesty, he'd never seen himself as attractive to persuade a mate of any kind. He'd had his crushes, and day dreams, but that's all they were. Just dreams. He covered his scar hoping no one would ask...only to have molly go right ahead and ask. "I don't much like talking about this one, dear." he said once it was properly covered. Lacross watched him leave, his curiosity peeked about the this meeting. He growled with irritation. "Sometimes I curse my pale lady for blessing me with curiosity." he said with his head in his hands. A light growl rose from his throat as he outstretched his arms ahead of himself and stretched, opening his mouth wide with a yawn.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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Lacross listened to the conversations around him, some complaining about the events of the day and others talking about the uproar he had caused in the morning. Embarassing: yes. He had his reasons for causing the chaos. The medication that was often given to him gave him a mild reaction, like itching or blurred vision but the doctors would have none of his concerns; telling him that he'd 'get used to it'.

"Speech is the medium of the soul, for the word of the soul can manifest." He said absent mindedly as he adjusted the hood. He had a poem coming to mind, but wasn't quite sure how everyone else would take it. Then again, it was the first time that he had been among such a large group of people that didn't show that much hostility toward him or any at all.

In his nervousness, he started to tap a tune on the stone he lay on. His leg shook, peering out at the mouth of the cave. "Should I speak? Give my own words to this place?" He wondered to himself. A first nervous whine escaped him, still looking out to the moon lit forest.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly watched herself in sadness as her actions seemed to anger Svean. She jerked back her arm, releasing her grip on his shoulder. Why couldn't she say what she wanted anymore? Well, she knew why. She was always like this. That period of lucidity was a rare thing. Before she knew it, she was talking again. Trying to communicate when she knew she couldn't. "I protect myself. Keep myself safe inside this wall. I don't hurt myself." She listened to herself babble, frustrated that the words she wanted were not coming. So she just left, walking swiftly away with tears in her eyes until she tripped over something. She fell to the floor, scrambling for balance, but gaining none. When she hit the ground, she looked back to see what she had tripped on. It was Lacross laying on a stone. "I'm sorry. I was cutting grain but the scythe came back and hit me instead." Again, nonsense. She curled up and began to cry. What else was there to do?

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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In the cloud of thoughts and daydreams that Lacross had when ever he was on the deceive side, he failed to notice that someone else was coming and was in the way. Then again, from where he was and the line of sight from the back of the cave to the light filled front; one could assume that he was either a heap of fur or a sleeping animal.

He made a loud, barking kind of noise when he felt himself being tripped over. For a moment, he was about to ask the person that if they would be careful. However, he saw a familiar face. "What causes you such sorrow, little one?" He asked once seeing that it was Molly. He stood on all fours and paced around her, his eyes seen through the eyes in the wolf head hood. "Something has befallen you? The scyilla or the song of a siren? Or maybe the maddening eye of a gorgon, no?" He said, trying to get some sort of response from her. Even if it was going to be nonsense.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly sat up, sniffling. So now Lacross was trying to speak to her in her own language. She smiled faintly inwardly. Maybe he didn't know that she could understand him perfectly. Would he be embarrassed if he did? She hicupped with tears, then smiled. "You've got it feedin' outta yer hand." she said softly. Then she looked away shamefully. There was no point trying. The meeting was over anyway. Soon she would be back in that horrible room eating that horrible medicine. But at least she could look forward to the run back. Maybe she could come out again from the running. Maybe it would scare the Form away.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross snorted, deciding to sit cross legged behind molly. He shook his hood off and tilted his head to the side. "The limbs of the scyilla bind your voice or is it the morning star that binds your words?" he asked, trying to be as nonsenceical as he could without confusing himself in the process. "How did the scythe hit you back?" He put the hood back on and sat as a sphinx would, waiting for an answer.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly looked back at him, amazed that he was still trying to talk to her. Most people gave up after a while. She even gave up after a while, usually. "It smiled and looked beautiful," she said wistfully, "but inside it was black as night." She stood up. "We should go. Mother will be wanting us in bed." She laughed bitterly. She was actually looking forward to the run back. And talking nonsense to Lacross wasn't accomplishing anything. Maybe he would appreciate the freedom of a run just like she did. Maybe his odd, animalistic behavior was similar, in a way, to her uncontrollable behavior. She tried to ask him if that were true: "Does the moon shine on you? And does the moon knead me?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross purred somewhat. He turned to svean before going back to Molly. "I'll walk her back to her room. I'll be back." He said before turning back to molly. He tilted his head to the side at molly's question and sighed, "The moon does many things for me. How she see you is not for me to answer." He muttered before stepping foot outside the cave. He walked on all fours for a distance before turning around and sitting. In the moon's light, Lacross did indeed look inhuman. Only his eyes could be seen through the hood, a steel gray shining through. "Come, they may notice your absence."

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly followed Lacross, disappointed that it looked like they were only going to walk with everyone else. She remained silent the rest of the walk back.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross lead Molly out of the forest, as much as he wanted to run with the two distractions and howl to his heart's delight, his main job for them moment was to lead him lamb back to the fields. The halls were bare of doctors and other inmates being that the orderlies were trying to catch the howlers.

He looked at the doors looking for names that caught his eye. "Molly, Can you lead me to your door? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with where you are held."

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly nodded, taking Lacross's hand and running down the corridor. She finally stopped in front of her door. "Door number one or door number two?" she said, laughing. Then she let go of Lacross's hand. "Two by two they went astray, One by one they walked away." she said solemnly. Then she opened her door and walked in, closing it behind her. "And then there were none." she said to herself sadly. The meeting had gone both wonderfully and horribly. She would never be able to face Svean again. She was too embarrassed. But, thinking on it, she couldn't live without him. She had come to revere him or love him in some insane way, and she just couldn't do without him. There was only one thing to do. But she didn't have the courage to do it. So she went over to her bed and lay down, contemplating suicide. What other choice did she have before her? She would have to find out some way to do it. Strangulation, maybe? Her pillow case would work for that. But she couldn't do it yet. Not yet. She wanted to see her father first. Maybe she would put in a request for him in the morning.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Svean darted away from the hand of another catcher. He gave a menacing howl and lunged at them. Their arms flew up but he dropped at the last second and slid under them. Catch me if you can! he thought and gave another howl darting around the corner. Groping hands awaited him.
"Caught you now, Filthy poet!" screeched a familiar voice. "Don't try and escape from me!" Svean gave a grin, hiding his eyes.
"You can't catch me, dog." he growled back, his voice completely different. he knew who it was. Allison. He kicked her right in the shins and she let go, screeching again. He darted out of the way and dashed down the hallway.

About an hour later it was safe to go back to his room. Sighing with relief Svean headed back, silent and invisible. Finally he reached it collapsing on his bed. I hope Molly and Lacross got back okay. He thought when something closed over his mouth. he opened his mouth to scream but was unable to with the cloth filling a strange smell in his nose. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Crap . . . he thought as his eyelids grew heavy. I have to make sure Molly is . . . but he couldn't finish because he was no longer awake.

"Are you sure Svean was involved, Ally?" Maytrum asked glancing at her best pupil.
"I caught him. I wouldn't have known it was him if he hadn't grinned at me. I'm positive he was apart of it."
"Well, we'll have to put him in a therapist interrogation then." she said cooly. Ally looked shocked.
"But Maytrum! Isn't that a bit . . . extreme?" she said timidly.
"Don't you want to get rid of that infernal club?" she said cold as ice.
"I do but . . ." she looked at Svean worried. "I guess it's for the best." she muttered and Maytrum smiled.
"Good girl." something pierced Ally with those words. It hadn't sounded like Maytrum wanted to say girl. It sounded like she wanted to say 'Dog'.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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Lacross nodded, walking away from the door and wandered the halls on all fours. The furs made him an easy target by means of being spotted, but his mind started to change again. His eyelids became heavy, humanity slipping away from him and causing him to become dizzy for he was normally in his room at this time. "The hunt has begun...The howls come...the body aches and blood spills...the h-hour..." Lacross clawed at the floor, no longer able to speak. Voices could be heard in the hall, those of who wished to tame him. He was huddled in pain for the moment, the pain of his change and him clawing at the floor, so he couldn't see the hands that were trying to grab him and drag him away from this place.

He wasn't going to have it.

His vision blacked out, but his hearing became his sighed. The screams of those he fought against and the smell of spilled blood gave him his chance to run. He assumed that he must have clawed someone in the face, but they were his enemy. Those sent by people who wished to tame him to capture him. He ran until there was quiet again. His vision cleared to find himself in the unfinished part of the asylum. A refuge. A safe haven for those who could utilize it. He climbed up to the higher parts of unfinished refuge, watching people go but to which he assumed that they where looking for him. He watched until the weak morning sun started to rise, letting slumber take over.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell
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Morning for Lacross was most relaxing then he wasn't in his room. The staff was usually out looking for by the time he got to his room and changed. Sure, he couldn't speak normally but he could still function just fine when not annoyed or cornered. He trotted back to his room, spreading his furs on the bed and changing into his normal robe. He passed the medication counter all together and trotted into the dinning hall.

As usual, he went under the tables. The food of one wasn't enough to fill him up, but the plates of many who didn't pay attention and talked most of the time had their food eaten and plates returned to them and left before they could throw a fit at him or even realize that he did it. This was common ocerance for over a month now, since he had arrived and found out that the food here wasn't just too little for him but also not what he needed. He also wouldn't go outside with the other inmates or even get along with most of them, making him sluggish. Some did see him take the food, but did nothing about it in knowledge that he was violent. Most oppted to tell the staff and have them deal with him. He knew that it was just a matter of time until the morning war started again.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross poked his head up from under the table when he heard the announcement. He made a looked of displeasure and idea forming on his face. He had met Maytrum once, the time that he had arrived and was sadated from becoming violent with one of the staff the first day. From then on, he had seen her as nothing but a bringer of pain and anguish. Now she had someone of importance. If he was going to gain at least some healing in his time here, something had to be done.

However, he wasn't sure who was part of the society and who wasn't, nor did he know who to trust as of yet. He would just have to keep watch.

Even then, there was time for recreation. If anything, he tolorated the staff at this time since they did provide him with paint and canvas instead of pencil ever since a fight broke out between him and another inmate. He set up in the corner, on the floor with the back of the canvas towards the other people in the room. He would peak every now and again while he painted, sure he wasn't all that good at it but it got his frustrations out if he couldn't talk for the moment. He spotted molly while peeking out from the battle on his canvas. Again, not being able to speak, he made a small barking noises toward her trying to get her attention.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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As Molly was erasing her most recent attempt at writing something down, she heard an odd sound. Barking? She looked up to see Lacross huddled behind a canvas, barking at her. She sighed. She didn't want to talk to him right now. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. But he seemed very insistent. So she got up and walked over. "Careful. Contents are fragile." she said as she sat down next to him. She still hadn't fully recovered from last night and nothing she said made sense. Well, it did, but in an insane way. She looked expectantly at Lacross. "Subtitles on or off?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He huffed, frustrated with the fact that he wasn't able to speak at all for the time being. He looked around, looking for something to convey what he was trying to say. He perked up and nuzzled Molly's are as if asking if she was alright. Having not seen Sadie all day, he started to attach himself to who ever would at least tolorate him. Or in the very least understand him at the moment.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly watched as he became frustrated at something. He seemed to be unable to make any human sounds. Interesting. Then she flinched as he nuzzled her arm. She hadn't been expecting that. What could he be trying to communicate? 'It'll be alright,' maybe? It seemed like that was it. "No it won't." she said to him, suddenly lucid. It seemed the physical contact with another human being brought her back to reality. "I feel terrible. Last night was awful. Oh, God, last night." She covered her face in her hands. "I can never face Svean again. I suppose I'm even glad he got caught, so I don't have to talk to him again." She looked Lacross over, trying to judge if he was okay. "How are you? Apart from... you know, incoherence?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross sighed, somewhat discouraged about the feeling coming off Molly and after last night's breakdown, he had some understanding of what she was going through. He paced around her on all fours quickly and wove himself through the legs of the easel, showing that he was alert and well after last night. However, this did get the attention of the nurse in the room.

"Lacross, you know we don't allow that here."

Lacross snarled and seemed to raise the hair on his neck, causing her to back away. He looked back at Molly, nuzzling her leg in reassurance. He never liked to show his simmering rage in front of people that treated him with respect, a bit disrespectful in his eyes.

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Molly nodded. He seemed to be okay. She even smiled a little when he wove through the easel's legs. It seemed a little playful in its activeness. But then Molly's countenance darkened as the nurse jumped down Lacross's throat for just communicating. "Oh, Lacross." she sighed as he rubbed against her leg. "I wish I had your problem rather than mine. Not to say that it's better or anything, it's just that... I think I could cope with it better." She looked around, sighing again. "I just wish I could get out of here." she said. "I want nothing more than to see my dad again. I don't even care about living anymore. You know, I've never cared for a boy the way I cared for my dad. How about you? Was there someone in your family that you held special?"