Austin Dale Correctional Holding

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With her green short hair brushing past her eyes, secluding them in shadow, Yazmine ignored the murmuring that came from one of the criminals in the 'group therapy room'. One by one the computer monitor that stood in the middle of a circle of chairs spewed questions at someone. Recording us with all with a watchful eye. With a single glance at the machine, her hand twitched at the pleasant thought of destroying the machine, though her mind was in a tainted theme, her form appeared calm, collected and cool. The only thing she enjoyed about going to these groups was the opportunity to wear casual clothes, true, she valued her individuality, even if it didn't seem like she truly cared; all the more causing her more frustration. Her dark jade hues scanned the room, legs crossed, arms folded up so her hands held her face up as she slumped forward, her nerves could feel the cool steel against her skin. Wonderful thoughts of implanting lead into the walls amused her, causing her to smirk, and the machine to glance her way.

He kept his eyes downcast under his long and somewhat untamed light brown hair. His hands were clasped tightly together in his lap and he could feel beads of sweat popping up on his forehead. The machine was slowly making its way around the circle and the closer it got to asking him a question the more nervous he became. Thoughts in his mind were jumbled and mixed up due to the lack of concentration he could give them. Ashton wasn't stupid, he was very smart; almost too smart for even him to comprehend. It was just organization of those thoughts and facts that he lacked. In his own mind his answers were perfect but once he had to speak them they became confusing and cut. His medication was the only way for him to solve it; but he didn't want to depend on them. Finally the machine turned to him and pelted him with a question about how he'd felt when he'd punched a kid the day before. Ashton twitched a little and hunched in on himself more. He'd felt angry and pissed and violent and wanted to shut the kid up. He muttered a stammered version of this and relaxed a little in relief as the machine moved on.

Conner sat leisurely in his own chair; his right leg crossed over his left and his arms crossed over his chest. His amber eyes snapped with inahled confidence and he was smiling tiredly as he waited for the machine to spew out nonsence questions towards him. He let his eyes roam around the room momentarily before something on his shirt caught his attention; or at least it seemed that way. The male just couldn't concentrate on one thing, the crank in his system made him feel like he had to look at everything. Suddenly his eyes snapped up at he looked over at the question-ranting robot and felt this urge to shut it down and use it as a table to do lines on. The image made him smirk and he held in a laugh as he watched another crazy, violent person wince away from the machine. Luckily it wasn't the kid he had his eyes on; only he would the cause of wincing for that one. Conner sighed and leaned back in his chair and let his head roll back; god it was tiring in 'Group Therapy'.

Damian sat slumped on his chair, blankly staring at the ceiling. He was bored out of his mind but they wouldn't give him anything to amuse himself with. Except maybe the question spouting machine which was currently making its way around the circle. Neither the questions, nor the answer interested him but he wasn't the only one at that. It was normal, if anything could be considered normal in Austin Dale Correctional Holding.

Now the machine was the man next to him something nonsensical and the reply was one of the most earnest he had heard so far. That is to say, it probably wasn't a complete lie. When it turned to Damian he didn't give it a chance.

"Carrot juice." He spoke calmly to the machine as it started the question. Unable to alter its behavior, it continued anyway. "Banana." He said when it finished and watched it go on with an amused expression on his face.

The situation at hand hadn't quite settled in until Kaylee was being dragged down hallway after hallway, filled with barred cells and men and women who wouldn't keep their eyes off of her until she rounded another corner. Her cheeks were damp and her brown hair was matted to the sides of her face. A guard had her wrists pinned firmly behind her back as they approached a door titled "Group Therapy" in bold lettering. He gave her a quick spiel over rules and regulations, although Kaylee wasn't hearing much of anything as her mind was trying to process the past few days. The guard pushed open the door, where once again she was being lugged around, this time into a dull room where the tension practically seeped off of its current inhabitants. Immediately her tired eyes averted to her shoes, and soon enough she felt herself being shoved down into an empty plastic chair. A robotic voice spoke up amongst the otherwise silent room, and it wasn't until the same voice talked again that Kaylee dared a glance at her surroundings. From what she could tell this was indeed a rendition of a group therapy session, although it was far from any that she had witnessed (which wasn't many). She was stuck between a girl with striking green hair and a boy who looked as nervous as she felt. It wasn't long before she went back to staring at her lap once more, where her hands were folding and unfolding over one another.
Kaylee couldn't help but wonder if it was evident that she didn't belong here. It was hard to process that just an hour ago she was standing in a court room, pleading innocent. Up until a few moments ago, her body had been numb from shock, but it was beginning to slowly register that she was going to be spending a very, very long time here.

Arran smiled half heartily as he watched his legs swing back and forth making the hooks embedded in his skates to scrape against the floor, looking up at the monitor as it asked people questions and watched their reactions, blinking as a guard dragged a girl in and sat her down on a chair next to another girl and a boy who was very nervous, "Another bad person?"thought Arran tilting his head slightly before giggling as the monitor faced him and asked him how he felt when he mercilessly butchered his family, shaking his head at the question and obviously trying to sink back into his chair as far as he could, "But...thats not very nice...."whispered Arran quietly as he gnawed on his fingers, sighing a little and nodding, "Alright, I'll tell it...."whispered Arran to no-one in particular before looking at the monitor with an innocent expression, "Zackary says that scumbags that have to hide behind a camera should go hang themselves because they're scared.."Stated Arran before going back to watching his legs swing back and forth, "Zackary needs a time out..."whispered Arran before smiling at the scratches he was putting in the floor with his skates.

Louisa ran her green eyes around the circle of people once. She knew some of them by sight but she'd never really cared all that much. The machine was making it's way round to her slowly. How long was this going to take? She needed to be back in her cell so she could seduce the guards into giving her ciggarettes. The lack of nicotine in her system was making her grouchy.
'Carrot juice. Bannana.'
One of the boys gave the best answer she had heard so far. Lousia tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. How long had she been here already?
The door opened and a guard pushed in a terrified girl. She was forced to sit between a boy and the girl with green hair. Louisa smirked. The people in the room had a word for girls like her. Innocents. They were always good fun to mess with and hardly ever lasted more than a week. The machine blocked Louisa's veiw of the new girl and started to ask her a question. It was something along the lines of wether she believed if she had any self control or not. Focusing her green eyes on the hunk of metal she smirked.
'If you don't let me out of here now i'll show you just how little self control I actually have.'
She put as much menace behind those words as she could and the machine moved on. Looking back at the new girl she gave her a wink which was something a little more sinister than any wink should be.

Ashton looked over at the new girl next to him; analyzing her through his hair. She was too frightened; to terrified of where she was. He could easily tell that she had done nothing, even killers who were horrified by the idea of going to jail had some sort of recognition that they belonged where they were. The teen looked away and settled into his chair more comfortably; his nervousness was gone completely and he felt a lot more comfortable. Silver-Grey flashed under brown bangs as he watched the machine spin around the circle and spit out questions of unimportance to each person. The only good things about the therapy was the ability for him to put on whatever he wanted and have a little time to get out of his getting smaller by the day cell. He then switched to looking at each person in the room naming off what each had done from his journey to find their files; he had to know what he was dealing with. Ashton smiled as he heard one girl's response about self control and leaned farther back in his chair. "Hopefully things get more fun," he muttered to himself before he shut his eyes and yawned.

Conner ran a hand through his currently black hair knowing it would sooner or later start to fade back to its natural honey blonde. Without hair dye he had no way of stopping it and it bothered him a little. He dropped his hand and looked over at the new girl they had just brought in; a small smile on his lips. He'd always enjoyed when new people came; he took it on himself to welcome them without terrifying her further. The teen didn't doubt that he would be the most normal, he was the only one who hadn't done anything violent among the people in the room; and he could tell from the looks of her she hadn't either. A chuckle escaped his lips and before the computer could ask him anything he muttered, "I'm high." With that he moved his gaze from her to his hands and watched the single silver band wrapped around his index finger flash. Well that was suddenly much more interesting.

Yazmine cleared her throat quickly, glancing at the girl who was just tossed in like a rag in a bucket of dirty water, she could easily sense her nervousness, "A week." The robot clanked towards her and demanded an explanation, she grinned as she replied, "She'll only last a week." The machine then went on about how you cannot give a time a limit on someone by judge of appearance. However, in a mono tone voice, she cooed, "You'll be gone soon, possibly before this hour is up.." Her gun teased her badly, just one little bullet riding into that damn robots hard drive would satisfy her, but she knew that wasn't true, she wanted to plunge her gun deeper into the skulls of others leaving them with led to swallow. As the machine turned around to another unsuspecting criminal her hand wavered over her pocket; the animals are about to run loose, go ramped and forget all human instinct.

Damian chuckled as he listened to Yazmine's conversation with the device. He was glas that, finally, something amusing was going on. Sometimes it felt like he would go insane from boredom.

"We should keep her alive so we can toy with her!" Damian suggested loudly. "You know, mix it up a little."

The machine was coming in his direction again. "Tutti frutti." The killer said to the machine before it could say anything. It continued undisturbed but he wasn't listening. "Again, banana." He sneered at it.

For a moment there was a silence as the operator hesitated. Then it simply moved on.

((Hey guys, we'll be pausing for a while due to Yazmine's computer crapping out on her. Everyone who hasn't put a second post yet still can but after that we shall be on a bit of a HIATUS. Thank you! ^ ^))