The 'Asylum'.

West Wind Corridor
0730

Hearing the hustle and bustle of the confrontation turned violent made Karissa look up and stare. Her eyes were wide with astonishment and surprised. The nurses moved with such speed. How was that possible? It's like they're vampires, she had thought to herself as she tucked her head back into Jack's chest. No human could possibly move that fast... Could they?

But she still managed to listen to whatever else she could pay attention to, and, on cue, Karissa pushed Jack closer to Sam, trying to tell her protector that she wanted him to move and pull her along. She wanted to get away from the violence; she hated seeing other people be violent. She hadn't been around that in her life, ever, so it frightened her to see people physically harm another. "Can we go please?" Karissa begged, her voice rough, possibly from the crying. "Please?"

She looked back up at Jack once again, desperation reeling from her eyes. She couldn't tell what he was doing. Why was he just standing there? If he didn't move soon, she was going to run back to her room and curl up into a pointless ball, and cry herself to sleep. "Jack?"

Sarah backed up away from the fight. Much as her skill with manipulating shadows came in handy, she'd never really used them in a fight and she wasn't ready to start practicing right now. Besides, those two looked nuts enough, she didn't want to get between then and the crew of people who were wrestling them into submission.

She turned and started walking back to her room, hopefully the doctor that the nurse had mentioned would be able to explain just what the hell was going on here. She didn't feel crazy, not that most nut cases did; but she was almost certain that she would have remembered being committed in the first place. Plus, when she had used the shadows to grab the clipboard, the nurse hadn't reacted at all. Which meant that they knew about what she could do, and presumably what other people could do. Was it possible that she was here not as a patient but as someone that they wanted to manipulate into working for them? It was an unfortunate possibility, one that she would have to be alert for in order to work against it.

She was mulling all of this over when she noticed that one of the other grey suited inmates had followed her; a shorter, thin girl who looked to be about half Oriental of some kind. For whatever reason, she didn't look very happy to be walking along with her, but Sarah just figured that she wanted to see the doctor the same that she did, so the other woman took her up on the offer to come along. Truthfully, she was a bit grateful for the company, not knowing what was going on meant that she really didn't want to be alone anymore than she could help.

"So, you got any clue as to what's going on? And do you mind if I ask your name?" Turning, she half smiled over at the other woman, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She didn't really wait for a response, just sort of ambling along and trying to ignore the sounds of the scuffle behind them. They reached room 5 and Sarah opened the door and gestured inside.
"Home sweet home, I suppose."

West Wing Corridor
0729

Aveline stumbled backwards as Devan's fist connected with her face. She frowned and was about to punch him back when the two helpers rushed forward and grabbed her. She instantly went limp in their arms, not bothering to put up a fight. She tried to see if her nose had fallen off, but it was hard considering she couldn't really see it. Either way, she would be in pain for a bit. She looked at Devan, curious to see how he would react to being restrained. She smiled and looked up at the ceiling, looking at the lights.

"The itsy bitsy psycho went to the hosp-i-tal, in came the girl and poked the psycho's throat, here comes the guards ta hang us by our necks, the psycho and the girl, go off to asylum prison!" she sang happily, though she removed to move any part of her body other than her head. Maybe if she sang another nursery rhyme, and clicked her bare heels together and said, 'there's no place like home', she'd be able to get out of this mess. But of course, life was never that easy. It never had been and never would be, especially not here and now. "The itsy bitsy rebel went to her room, in came the doctor and beat her to the ground, now be time for a funeral, there ain't no tears today!" Aveline laughed hysterically, letting herself be dragged wherever. as she continued to look at the lights.

***

Xavier covered his ears. He couldn't bear to hear his sister prattling on about nothing. He closed eyes and found himself walking into a wall, causing a near explosion as he bit his tongue to keep from yelling at it. He didn't need anybody to drag him off or call him crazy for talking to inanimate objects. "I hate this," he mumbled, looking around and realizing he was actually lost.

Mumbling to himself, he turned around and tried to find his way back to his room with little success. He spotted Sarah, with a couple of followers walking down the hall. He followed them and found that the rebel of the group had room number five. One number greater than his own, but still in a different area. Maybe four was a special number here, or the doc liked symmetry and balance. Xavier himself couldn't argue with the beauty of those things. Simple stuff was what he liked really, despite the complicated ability he had.

Without truly being invited in, the boy with long dark hair pushed past the others and entered the room. "Mind if I stay?" he asked Sarah, looking at her briefly before leaning against a wall and looking at the others. If he had to pick a group to be with, it would be the sane ones who wouldn't waste time.

Kieko was nervous about the fight, and then the long haired boy and the crying one started down to the breakfast hall. She hadn't seen the demon boy for a while, and realizing he would probably end up joining the breakfast group if the white coats had anything to do with it, she immediately went to the next best option. Sarah.
The problem was, Kieko quite liked Sarah's easy going personality, however she was worried the moving of shadows required the spiritual element. Kieko had a deep set hate for all spiritual and supernatural areas, her mother was superstitious, though Kieko herself never quite followed it. None the less, the dark spiritual side of the world scared her and kept her at bay.
"So, you got any clue as to what's going on? And do you mind if I ask your name?"
Kieko started slightly.
"No" she said slowly, a little tentative "My name's Kieko"
She slowly entered cell five.
"Home sweet home, I suppose."
Kieko couldn't help smiling slightly, she certainly didn't seem to be demonic. Perhaps it was simply one of those weird powers that popped up, that didn't require spirits, but was part of a natural thing. The demon boy however seemed a different story.
Then the door opened.
"Mind if I stay?"
Kieko re-coiled in horror, as the very person she did not want to see entered the room. She immediately hid her anger and shock behind a wall of indifference. If he truly was demonic, she did not want to anger him. If he truly was....
Kieko thought about it a little harder. Perhaps the crazy turquoise girl had been lying, after all she was partially insane. Yes, perhaps her new surroundings had got to her.
None the less, the whole demeaner about the male wouldn't let the thoughts out of Kieko's mind.

West Wing Corridor.
0729.

Jack had never been so horrified in his life. The people in this place were not only insane, but blatantly out of control as well. The woman with the green hair had been bad enough, screaming and showing no respect for personal space, but the boy- Jack didn’t know what the lad had been taught by this parents, if he even had any, but the idea of hitting a woman no matter the provocation was totally repugnant to him. Both in dance and at home, Jack had been instructed on proper behaviour, so much so that the idea of using his size and strength against someone was little more than a distant pinprick on his moral horizon.

Vinny, of course, had grown out of his respectful stage and moved right onto obnoxious, but the lessons had always stuck with Jack. He never physically stopped his twin doing what he wanted, but Jack was more than willing to disapprove when Vinny came home with a black eye and an overlarge grin.

“We’ll be all right, miss,” he told Karissa, steering her closer to this Sam person. “If we stick together and don’t do-” he gestured back towards Devan. “-that, then we should be fine. Some breakfast, and then we’ll see if we can’t sort this whole mess out.”

He glanced back, seeing pandemonium, before shaking his head. “I really don’t with that sort of behaviour at all, so you will certainly not be seeing any such treatment from me.” Even if he was mad, Jack knew himself well enough to speak the truth; nothing in the world would turn him into that sort of man.

Carefully, he looked at the people who had broken off to go to breakfast along with him, and offered them a sweeping smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he reiterated, hoping to smooth the way to better conversation in time.

West Wing Corridor/Dining Room.
0735-0745.

Once everyone had gathered, Sam, who seemed to be unconcerned with the fighting, nodded his head and gestured along the corridor. “Come with me please; I will show you to breakfast.” He then turned, moving along towards the main block. “Once we arrive, I would like you all to take a seat; your meals and medication will be brought to you. Just to make sure you all know, violent behaviour is not permitted anywhere here, so please show your fellows the respect they deserve.”

That said, he escorted them carefully towards the main building, scanning himself through several sets of double doors before throwing open the entrance to the dining hall. The room revealed was painted in a washed out yellow and hosted a series of bolted down picnic benches and a manned nurses’ station. “You can sit where you like. Go ahead and find somewhere.”

When he was certain that everyone was inside, Sam scan-locked the door and made his way over to the nurses’ station to begin the drug round.

West Wing Corridor/Infirmary.
0730-0750.

The team dealing with the intervention paid little mind to Sam’s group or Stepford’s careful words, more intent on getting their charges under proper control in the shortest possible amount of time. The two who were caring for Aveline made a quick check of her physical condition before deciding that she was safe to move. Almost at once, a wheelchair was summoned from a storage room and the girl was deposited into it before the two nurses whipped her away towards the infirmary.

The room they took her into was as institutional as the rest of the building, but was clearly well run and very clean. There were five beds partitioned off by curtains, all able to be seen from the central desk, and several more rooms branching off behind closed doors. At once, they moved to position Aveline on one of the main beds, fully prepared to use restraints if she didn’t remain where they had placed her.

Already, a doctor had been summoned, and the staff at the desk were preparing medication without having to be asked. There was no wariness, only a resigned calm as they went about their business.

West Wing Corridor/Solitary Confinement.
0730-0750.

Devan, by far the more challenging patient, maintained his thee-nurse team as he struggled and fought. Rapidly, it became apparent to the intervention party that Devan was not going to be calmed or go down without a fight, so rather than attempting to move him, they worked in conjunction with each other to hold him still so that he would not be able to harm himself or others while Aveline was taken away and the other inmates were escorted to breakfast.

They remained in place until the coast was clear, only moving once Sarah’s group had been followed by Stepford into her room and the door had been locked behind them. Thus secure, they awaited Stepford’s return with a hypodermic syringe filled with a mild sedative, which she calmly attempted to deliver to Devan’s rump via intramuscular injection. There was not enough to put him to sleep, but it was a hefty enough dose to make him drowsy and pliable.

Once they had achieved control, the group moved Devan to a wheelchair and took him under heavy observation to the solitary confinement block where he was placed inside a secure room to recover. Padded to prevent injury with nothing but a window set very high in the wall and a viewing flap in the door, the room was designed to offer little in the way of distraction and nothing that could cause injury. It was well insulated and silent, neither cold nor warm, and the only light filtered weakly in through the bars of the window where the smallest chink of sky could be seen.

West Wing Corridor/Solitary Confinement
0730 - 0750

One punch was all Devan intended, though after throwing one he was tempted toward more. But before he even had time to eye the formidably-sized nurses lurking closer, they swiftly moved in to take hold of him. Naturally they first grabbed his arms, which had already begun whipping back and forth in an attempt to punch whatever staff member came closest. Devan's fists only managed to skim a few chins and cheeks, failing to land any solid blows that would free him. He squirmed with all his force and did his best to kick while maintaining his footing. When this didn't work, he paused as if worn out just long enough that the nurses would lower their guard... and then suddenly tried spinning around to twist free, but the staff restraining him held their grip so he only ended up twisting his own arms and entangling himself in theirs. In his pausing to catch his breath the staff then moved to gain further grip on his shoulders to keep him from spinning again, which set him into another writhing frenzy.

In his next break for breath, he noticed the teal-haired girl had been taken away. He figured the nurses hadn't been trying to move him yet because they were first trying to get a good hold, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of the nurse who had been behind the counter approaching - with a syringe. Devan resumed his struggling but the nurses had a firm hold now. He tried to stay focused and alert, but seconds after the prick of the needle in his hind end he felt himself growing drowsy. A minute later his eyes became heavy and his vision blurred. He still felt a sense of urgency, but his body wouldn't act on it and his thoughts were scattered, as if his brain was lagging like an old computer.

Next he knew, he was sat down in a wheelchair. He shut his eyes as he worked to regain his senses, his head lolling back restlessly. Still he tried to stand up every few seconds, but each time the staff would just gently push him back into his seat. The halls were a blur of light and color with the occasional figures of passing staff.

Then he felt himself being pulled from the wheelchair, and though he tried to wriggle free some more his efforts were in vain and he was quickly pushed into a dark room. He staggered forward to land on all fours, finding the floor padded. A padded room. Great. Just where everyone had always told him he should be. Dazed, Devan stumbled to his feet and turned around to totter into the door uselessly. There was no handle on the inside, so there was no chance it was open this time. Sliding down to sit, Devan then resigned to crawl to a corner beside the door. The sedative made him no good for escaping now, so he would have to wait until it wore off, and then he would lunge for the first person to open that door....

West Wing Corridor/Dining Room
0735-0745

Never in her life had Karissa seen such a disregard for authority, or other people. The smack against the teal-haird girl's face made her cringe, digging her head even farther into her saviors chest, if it was even possible. Her fingers gripped his shirt tightly, squeezing underneath her tiny palm. She truly hated confrontation of any sort, which is why she stayed as close to Jack as possible. The farther away from fighting she was, the better and safer she felt. With that, though, she couldn't understand how the nurses remained so calm. If she were one of the white-clad folk, she would have freaked. She probably would have actually ran from the situation.

When Jack began to speak to her once again, all Karissa could to was nod. She didn't dare speak a word, for she was afraid that if she did, she would get into trouble. And that was the last thing she wanted. She had opened her mouth to speak, but remained to afraid to speak her mind. You're right, Jack, she thought to herself, I don't want to get into trouble. I don't even want to be here. I don't think anyone does... But trouble isn't on my agenda.

With her grip still tight around Jack, Karissa let him lead her to the dining hall. Even that was plain, but it least it had color, even though it was the color of someone's pee. Everything had become even harder for her to grasp, especially since she noted that there weren't any sort of knives resting on the tables. How would she make do with her confusion? How would she survive if she wasn't able to put a knife to her skin?

She looked up at Jack once more for comfort before finally releasing her tight grasp from him. She felt cold now, without the warmth of his body against hers. Taking a step forward, Karissa examined the surroundings more, and became terrified as she realized that there were meds at the nurses station. Were there really nurses stations everywhere? The thought made her cringe once again, but she continued walking. If there was a nurses station around every corner of this insane place, then the nurses were not afraid to put meds into anyone. She cringed again as she sat at the farthest table from the door, as far away from the confrontation she had just witnessed. She didn't know if the fight was still going on, but she knew she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

Karissa stared down at her plate, wishing, in a way, that food would just appear. She wasn't ready to talk to anyone just yet. Plus, if food appeared, then maybe she would believe that Hogwarts was real, and this was all just a cover-up. Besides, the girl with shadow manipulation seemed magical enough.

Solitary Confinement.
0900.

Devan was left to his own devices for quite some time with only his thoughts for company, the slow passage of time mapped out by the changing light beyond the window. Weak sunlight had brightened to something more indicative of true morning, and the occasional shadow of a cloud seemed to pass overhead, painting shadows across the padded floor, but still nobody came to open the door.

He was given long enough for the drug to wear away and then longer still, but there was no sound from outside, no nurses to break the monotony and give him a chance to attack. For over an hour there was simply quiet, the sounds of the building that surrounded him muffled to almost nothing, and although he was observed, it was through nothing so conspicuous as the window.

Finally, when the morning routine of the asylum had shifted into the stillness between breakfast and lunch, there was movement outside of the door, though only the Judas window opened. Outside, with his head pressed close against the bars, was a young man with scruffy dark hair that fell low into his eyes, making his face little more than a grin and a fringe.

“Hello in there,” Agent Tori Sith trilled, his voice hushed low into a stage whisper as he peered in at Devan. “Have you been bad, is that why they’ve locked you up in this little room? Or maybe you’ve been good instead… it’s hard to tell, you see.”

Giggling, he grew a little taller, likely standing up on his toes to get a good look at Devan through his hair. “Wow, you don’t look very happy. Would you like me to break you out of there? I can, you know, because I’m a secret agent. Agent Tori Sith. That’s Tori with an eye not a why or an eye-ee. It’s very important that you remember the eye.”

As if to demonstrate, he lifted a dark hand and poked up under his fringe, parting the hair to show his finger resting against the white of one eye, rolling it up so far that the colour was impossible to tell. “Don’t forget: eye!”

Tori laughed, letting his hand and his hair fall back into place as he leaned a little closer to the window. “It must be lonely, to be separated from all of your friends. I’m sure they missed you at breakfast. Are you lonely without them? I bet you are…”

Tori didn’t seem to need answers to keep the conversation going, and spoke in a manner that indicated readiness to chatter on all day if he wasn’t stalled.

Sarah half smiled at the guy who joined them at the last moment. "The more the merrier. The name's X, right? And Keiko, nice to meet you." She pulled her bed over to the window and stood on it to take another look out the window. "Anybody got some clues as too what's going on? The last thing I remember is being in teh library and dropping my books. Then I woke up here. I most definitely do not remember coming here voluntarily or being committed." She glared at the bland landscape outside and hopped down, going to the door to check and see if the "doctor" was coming. Frowning, she yanked on the handle, perhaps not entirely surprised to find that the door now wouldn't open.
"I guess we're not going to have any more guests at this party, they locked us in." Sighing, she propped herself on the wall and looked at the other two. "What's your stories?"

Solitary Confinement
0750 - 0900

To spare himself from enduring his blurred vision, Devan shut his eyes until the sedative wore off, which didn't take all that long. As he felt his thoughts grow less fuzzy he opened his eyes to find his vision clear. He sat for awhile more, listening carefully though he couldn't pick up much outside the room, just the occasional sound if it was loud enough or came near enough to the door. Devan had the patience of a predator, but the wait for someone to open the door proved too long in a small, empty room that offered nothing to look at.

The wild-haired youth stood, moving to the window. He pushed onto his tiptoes but it was still too tall even for him. He started pacing around the room, wiping himself across the door each time he passed it like a cat nagging to be let out. The more bored Devan became, the more restless he grew. He took time to pick at his nails, pick at his clothes, and ruffle through his hair. He pressed himself against the door and licked it - though he quickly withdrew his tongue and regretted the impulsive decision. He started clawing at the walls of the padded cell and then at the floor, trying to rip open the padding, but he had no nails and the material proved too tough.

Finally Devan resolved to sit opposite the door, legs sprawled out before him. He leaned his head back against the wall and listened. Even some steps outside the door did not rouse him... until light seeped in from the slit in the door.
"Hello in there," came a cheerful whisper. Devan pulled his head from the wall to stare at the tiny window across from him, face blank. His expression remained deadpan as the man outside continued. Agent Tori Sith. Another nut, then, but so far it didn't seem this one wanted to poke him.

Lonely. Right. Breakfast hadn't crossed his mind; now that it occurred to him, he wouldn't mind something to eat. But that could wait. Nutcase or not, if this Tori Sith could break him out, Devan was certainly up for it. He leisurely stood and strode to the door, bringing his face to the rectangular window where Tori peered in at him. He blew the man a kiss - apparently his way of saying he accepted the offer.


~


Dining Room
0740

Matt followed after Sam as instructed, trailing a little behind Jack and Karissa.
"Once we arrive, I would like you all to take a seat; your meals and medication will be brought to you." Matt looked up then, glancing at the nurse. Wherever he was, this place was at least going to act the part of a mental health facility and give him his medication. Did that mean everyone else here had a mental illness, too? It must, if they all had medication. When the group reached the dining room Matt waited for Jack to sit down and then chose one of the seats next to him. He was not the clingy type quite like Karissa, but he made for a good little shadow, content to stay by someone's side in silence whether he was acknowledged or not.

Once seated, he glanced to frail-looking girl, who was now staring at her plate. Panic still lingered in her blue eyes. She looked like she was worried the plate was going to turn into a carnivorous alien at any given second. Jack still looked anxious also, but appeared to go about it more calmly.

Matt lifted his nose to the air slightly, sniffing, though none too obviously. He tried to catch a whiff of what was being cooked, curious.

Infirmary
7:40-7:53

Aveline giggled as she was pushed along in the wheel chair to the infirmary. Once there, she was set down nicely on a white bed. She liked the color white, it was pretty and bright and hopeful, unlike all the dark she was used to. Things were dark when you were around her twin brother, and darker yet when you nearly shared a mind with him. "Did my face fall off?" she asked one of the nurses, looking up at the ceiling. She had no intent of causing trouble at the moment.

She looked over at the nurses, who seemed to be preparing some medications for her. She frowned. She didn't like taking pills or getting shots. She liked to throw her pills in the trash and play with syringes. Aveline remained quiet and watched as the nurses went about their work, still upset that they'd do this to her. But if it was an asylum, what more could she expect?


Room 5
7:40-7:45

He gave a quick nod to Sarah. He would go by that for now, nobody needed to know his full name. He looked around the room at noticing that Kieko seemed to be a bit scared of him. He didn't bite, unless given proper reason to. He listened to Sarah, noting that she liked to point out the obvious and must have had a semi-normal life if she was permitted into a library. She mentioned the doors being locked and he laughed a bit. "Of course they did," Xavier mumbled to himself as if the girl was an idiot. "Wouldn't want us to run away and tell people about our little stay here now, would they?"

He looked at the floor, knowing Sarah would probably be mad at him for saying that. It seemed like the thing a sane, normal person who was allowed into libraries would do. "I don't think any of us voluntarily came here, though others of us have a right to be committed," he said smugly, glancing at Kieko to make sure she hadn't fainted or anything. "Other than Aveline and that other kid, the people here same sane enough. Trust me."

"Personally I wouldn't be surprised if this was just an illusion and we're being experimented on in a lab. Or rather, those of us who are different are being experimented on and those of us who are crazy are going to be eliminated. The normals ones, as I suppose you are-" he gestured to Kieko. "-Are just like accessories, meant to give us some sort of normality next to the nurses and the prison like state of this building. Do these windows open?" He walked over next to Sarah, trying to budge the stupid thing, but to no avail. So they didn't even have a glimpse of the scenery then? Which meant they had no general idea of where they were. Lovely.

Xavier then remembered what Sarah had asked: what were their stories? He knew that 'I was at my therapist with my crazy sister' wouldn't be good answer. Then what would? "I was taking a walk," he said lamely, though if one had known him for more than five minutes, they wouldn't find it unusual. Walks helped calm him down and kept him away from people.

Dining Room.
0745.

The dining room smelled of cleaning products, hospital and porridge; there was nothing unusual underlying and no scents of lunchtime just yet. The staff, who all smelled similarly; strong, astringent medical detergent powerful enough to mask most other things and something faint; an underlying humanity, were milling about, supervising.

Once the three had found seats for themselves, there was a quiet conversation at the nurses’ station, several exchanged signatures and a few smiles before Sam was scanned into the drug storage room. He returned swiftly with three separate plastic containers each balanced on a piece of card and presented them to his fellows for checking.

Across the room, sat between Matt and Karissa, Jack watched them with thoughtful eyes for a moment before turning back to the table. “At least it looks like we’re being taken care of by good nurses. I’ve been in hospital quite a lot, and I’ve seen some bad ones before. I know it’s early to tell, but they seem committed, they’re polite, and they do a lot of checks.” He glanced down at himself, humming softly. “I don’t think I’m being badly cared for, even if I’m a bit- confused.”

He looked between his companions for a moment before smiling thinly. “I guess there are worse places to be, and we should focus on doing what we need to do to get better and go home.” Jack refused to even humour the possibility that he wouldn’t get home. He knew himself; even when his memory was being faulty, he retained his personality; he wouldn’t have done anything to get himself locked up for good.

When Sam returned with one of the little pots, Jack accepted it without question. “Is this my medication?” he asked, careful to come across as polite, rather than doubting. He didn’t want to upset the staff.

Sam smiled. “That’s right. If you could take it now please, Jack, I’ll be able to bring you your breakfast. It’s just what you normally take, nothing to worry about.”

“Do I take it in liquid form now, rather than pills?”

“I know you’re really good with your pills, but it’s policy here I’m afraid.” There was something close to genuine apology in the man’s face, and Jack nodded. He could see the sense in that; it stopped medicine being traded around like currency, and it was easy to check if it had been legitimately swallowed rather than held in a cheek for later disposal.

He drank the contents of the little pot, grimacing at the taste for a moment before handing it back and, on a whim, opening his mouth for Sam to see inside. “All gone.”

Jack wasn’t worried that he had been given anything he shouldn’t be having, nor was he afraid of setting a good example to his fellows. Even in his confusion, he trusted the staff; they were nurses and they were kind, they wouldn’t do him deliberate harm.

Sam looked pleased, returning to the nurses’ station before coming back with another pot. He repeated the procedure with Matt and then Karissa; asking them to take their medication in turn. Once done, he went back behind the desk to complete some paperwork, giving other uniformed figures the chance to enter and lay out bowls of porridge and cereal complete with harmless, rubbery spoons and plastic tumblers of juice.

The meal, although simple, smelled of nothing but what it was supposed to be, and the medication itself was harmless; any regular medication that the inmates took was present and remained unchanged. Additionally, an anti-depressive had been given to Karissa, and an anti-anxiety drug had been given to Matt.

Room 5.
0747.

Outside Sarah’s door, a thin man was carefully ordering his dark hair with a spidery, gloved hand. He was alarmingly pale, almost as white as the coat he wore, which made his dark suit and red tie look all the more severe. His ID card read “Doctor Rodcot”, his face was strangely still, and when he knocked and then called through the door, his quiet, calm voice was somewhat eerie.

“Hello in there, it’s the doctor. I’m going to let myself in now, so please step away from the door.”

Infirmary.
0753.

As Aveline was quiet, the staff made no move to medicate her, choosing instead to keep her under observation while waiting for the doctor. They were not left idling long, however, as the appearance of a tall, dark haired man in his mid-thirties came only minutes after the party’s arrival.

“Hello there, I am Doctor Bethlem,” the gentleman in the white coat offered, his hand already extending to Aveline. “You look like you’ve had a nasty knock there, Aveline, but don’t worry yourself; we’ll get you all fixed up in a second.”

There was a shiny red stethoscope hung around his neck, and a simple nametag with “Trephan Bethlem, Doctor” stamped upon it affixed to his top pocket. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to take a look at your nose, to make sure it’s not broken. That means I’m going to need to touch your face, but I’ll be gentle, so there’s no need to panic. I’m going to take good care of you, and then we’ll have a chat about what’s been going on this morning.”

Solitary Confinement.
0903.

Tori fell silent when Devan approached, though he didn’t back away from the Judas window. For a long moment he simply stared before allowing a bubbling laugh to work its way up his throat to become lodge between bright, white teeth.

“You have a funny way of saying ‘yes, please let me out, Tori’, but that’s hardly surprising, given that you’re as mad as a hatter. Everyone is, you see. Well, not me. I’m here on a secret mission, but you have to not tell anybody. It has to be just between you and me, okay? I’m not mad, you see, no, I’m totally sane, but they think I’m crazy so they keep me here.”

Tori took a careful look around outside the door, apparently seeing nobody, before he continued. “I’ve been here for ages, we all have now, so I know the way things work. I know a lot. They say it’s because my treatment isn’t working, but that’s not true. They think that, but it’s actually because I’m not mad; you can’t treat someone who’s not mad and expect them to get better.”

A single, frail hand poked through the bars, fingers gently wriggling. “I could tell you some secrets about this place; I’ve gathered intelligence. If you’re getting better, you probably don’t remember very well, but I’ve got it all stored up inside my head for when I go back and report to the government. I know all of the doctors and things.”

Solitary Confinement
0903

The man fell silent, and for a moment Devan thought he might have changed his mind upon getting a better look at him. Devan knew most people could tell he was not an average juvenile delinquent. The fact of the matter was, Devan looked dangerous, not only in his psychotic hair, not only in the oddly unkempt dress clothes he usually wore, but in the way he moved and, most of all, the look in his eyes. His eyes told others he did not think or feel quite like a normal human being, and he knew people found it unnerving even when they wouldn't always say so.

But then Tori burst into somewhat unhinged giggling. Devan tilted his head slightly. He acknowledged he was far from a perfectly sane individual - if such a thing even existed - but he didn't think 'mad' was quite the word for it. As Tori continued another rant about his 'secret mission' and about how he was not crazy, Devan shifted his gaze briefly to avoid rolling his eyes in clear view of the person who might break him out.

Devan continued to stare apathetically as Tori went on, though his expression did turn faintly troubled at the idea there were others who had been here for ages, as Tori put it. A darkness churned behind his eyes like storm clouds getting ready to rain and thunder. This was bit of a fun little adventure now, but he did not plan on staying here for ages. He looked up when Tori's fingers wriggled in through the bars. He wanted to grab them and break them, or threaten to break them so the man would let him out already. But he knew that kind of attitude wouldn't get him out of here with someone like Tori; one wrong move and the man could lose interest in him in a heartbeat, and move off to break some other, less hostile sociopath out of solitary. Of course, Devan could not be fully confident Tori was even really capable of breaking anyone out, but it looked like his only chance at the moment. So he refrained from breaking the man's squirming fingers and resigned to stare at him with steadily growing impatience.

Dining Hall
0745

Karissa was vaguely aware of the conversations going on around her, nor was she aware of the fluttering feet of Sam and the other nurses. Her pale blue eyes remained on the empty plate, still wishing for food to arrive. It was clear that wasn't going to happen when a small pot was put in its place. She looked up at Sam with sad eyes, not wanting to take the meds. But not wanting to get in trouble, and Sam's slight pleading with her, caused her to look at Jack, then Matt, then back to the pan. It smelled like rotten cherries. That was even more of a stall for her, seeing as she already didn't like cherries...

Reluctantly, she put the pot in her hands, put it to her mouth, and drank. Unlike Jack, who only cringed, Karissa heaved heavily as if about to vomit. She didn't, though, and rested her head on Jack's shoulder.

She then waited for Matt to drink is pot of rotten cherries, and then food was brought. For the first time since she had met her new group of "friends", she smiled. But as soon as she saw what was laid in front of her, she frowned heavily. Her eyes grew cold as she looked back up at Sam. If she were going to be locked in this place for God only knows how long, she wanted a decent breakfast.

She tipped the both of the bowls over, and crossed her arms over her chest. It didn't help that the "silverware" they were given were what parents used to feed baby food to their children. Where were the sharp knives?

"I want eggs," Karissa said, her voice as cold as the look she was giving Sam. "I'm not eating, unless I get my eggs. And bacon. I want bacon." She nodded to herself as the milk began to drip over the edge of the table, and the porridge slowly spread itself across the table.

"I didn't even want to eat in the first place. I just want my water. Just water. I'll survive without food. It's not like I haven't eaten for months on end before. I can, and will do it again. I'm not afraid."

Dining Hall
0745

Matt tilted his head a little. So Jack admitted to having been in a hospital before. Matt wondered what exactly he had to get himself into a number of them. His brow furrowed faintly at the mention of 'getting better'. What was 'better' by this place's standards? And why, necessarily, did he have to get better to leave? Matt had never been pressured to 'get better' before - his medications kept him normal enough that there was no need for him to be hospitalized most of the time.

When he was presented with his pot of medication, he had no issue taking it in liquid form as opposed to the usual pill. It smelled as terrible as it tasted, but he managed to only scrunch his nose and gulp it down before his tongue even had much time with it. He began a more thorough sniffing when the food was brought out, lowering his nose to the bowls as they were set before him. He didn't smell anything besides the food. It didn't smell particularly bad or good; it just smelled like oatmeal and cereal. Matt eyed the supplied silverware. The breakfast setup made him feel like he was at a retirement home more than anything. Were they really seen as that dangerous, that they needed rubber spoons and plastic cups? Well, in the scarecrow boy's case, that made sense. But for Matt, Jack, and Karissa, a lack of knives was all that really seemed necessary. Rubber or not, Matt thought it a safe bet someone could still carve out an eye with these spoons... Not that that was something he would do.

He had just taken his first bite - if it could be called that - of the porridge when Karissa began throwing a fit, pushing both of her bowls over so their contents poured across the table. Matt blinked. If he found himself still hungry after his food, maybe he could swipe up Karissa's off the table and floor if permitted. He was sure no one else was going to eat it. It would save the staff the trouble of cleaning up.

He abruptly looked up at the word 'bacon'. "... I like bacon," he chimed in quietly. He glanced between the others before eating some more of his oatmeal, as if to assure the staff he had no trouble eating whatever they offered him. But bacon would certainly be nice.

"What's your stories?"
Kieko's mouth felt dry as she snapped out of her stupor at X's entrance. She was a little uncomfortable about the door being locked, though she supposed it was only to be expected.
"I don't think any of us voluntarily came here, though others of us have a right to be committed" As X said this, Kieko felt him give her a rather haughty glance, and she slid her eyes away from his, refusing to make eye contact.
"Other than Aveline and that other kid, the people here seem sane enough. Trust me"
Kieko almost snorted. Trust him? Who was apparently demonic. Not likely. Even so, she hardly dared to give him any reason to lash out, so she hid her scoffing behind a mask.
He then went on to voice Kieko's own fears, and though she attempted to ignore him for the most part, finding his words less than comforting she couldn't help hearing his description of her.
"The normal ones, as I suppose you are, are just like accessories, meant to give us some sort of normality next to…"
Kieko again slipped into her own thoughts. It seemed crazy Aveline had been slightly truthful. Even X seemed to imply he was not the norm. Even so, he could just be insane, though his eyes were not those of a mad man, and Kieko, even with her limited medical experience could tell he was not insane.
When he said he had been going for a walk. Kieko inwardly rolled her eyes, though on the outside stayed the same with a rigid back and unblinking eyes. Obviously he felt himself rather superior. Unfortunately if he was demonic, perhaps that was the case, and a slight fear started to nag at her. She quickly pushed it away and focused more on his shortcomings. It helped to get irritated with a person in order to forget the fear, though it would never completely leave.
Kieko supposed she ought to give her story, however she was not sure she wanted these people to know too much about her. She was saved from answering as the Doctor arrived.
"Hello in there, it's the doctor. I'm going to let myself in now, so please step away from the door."
Kieko watched as Sarah slowly stepped away from the door, though Kieko herself remained seated on the left side. To move away from the door was to move closer to X, and that was something she was not willing to do.

Dining Hall.
0747-0800.

“I detest porridge…” Jack said miserably as a glob of the vile substance dripped down onto his crotch. Cringing, he backed away from the table, brushing at the nasty mess that had affixed itself to his pyjamas. If the sudden flood of milk onto his person hadn’t been bad enough, now there was porridge in unfortunate places as well. God, he wanted a shower.

Jack had never been so embarrassed in his life. His hands were sticky, his trousers were wet, and there was- he didn’t even want to think about what that looked like, and he couldn’t really rub it away without making even more of a sceptical out of himself.

“I don’t like bacon. I don’t eat meat.” Talking to Matt seemed to be the only logical option for a man with milk in his slipper and porridge on his trousers, and Jack made a valiant effort to do so, as he was now far too mortified to speak to Karissa. “Can’t say I like milk all that much either, really, but it’s better than porridge… the texture makes me sick.”

Jack was unhappy about his weight, but his picky eating was not really conductive to gaining a healthier body mass. Meat was off the menu, dairy was tolerated but not enjoyed, and certain textures made him gag… he cast an eye at Karissa, who was screaming about not eating. Was he here because of his diet, rather than his memory? Ironically, he didn’t remember, but he desperately hoped that it wasn’t because they thought he had an eating disorder.

He tried not to watch what was happening with Karissa, hoping to offer her a little privacy, even if she was screaming at full volume.

Room 5.
0750.

After a moment, the doctor let himself into Sarah’s room, quietly looking from occupant to occupant with placid eyes. It was hard to judge his age, but the flecks of grey at his temples suggested he was closer to fifty than he was to twenty.

“Good morning. I am Doctor Rodcot, and I’ve been hearing some rather worrying things from my staff this morning,” he murmured, his voice soft and disappointed. “My nurses seem to think that there was a bit of an altercation between themselves and a member of this party, but I’m hoping we can get this straightened out as little more than a misunderstanding.”

He made his way through the room without fear, and took a seat on the bed. “Now, I think we all need to have a little chat about what’s going on at the moment. It’s breakfast time, and yet none of you are in the dining hall getting your meal, and you’ve all missed your medication this morning.”

The doctor sounded saddened. “I’ve been so pleased with your progress lately, all of you, that it would be a terrible shame to have a setback now. You are all so close to getting back to your lives, and reaching your goals, that it would be a genuine tragedy if you turned away from your treatment now and suffered relapses.

“I understand that this can be a confusing time for you all, and I’m here to help, but for that to happen I need you to trust me. Sarah,” he turned to the girl. “If you needed to speak to me, or anyone, about what’s worrying you, all you had to do is call me. There was no need to upset the nurses. Anyone can ask for me at any time, and I’ll make sure to come along as soon as I can; you know this.”

Sighing, he looked between them again. “I am truly invested in helping you young people succeed, but I need you all to help me make this happen.”

Solitary Confinement.
0905

Cocking his head to the side, Tori cupped a hand to his ear. “Your eyes are talking, did you know? They are saying all the words your mouth isn’t. They’re very clever, those eyes of yours. I’ll show them something fun; they’ll like this.”

Quick as a flash, Tori leaped back from the door, hand diving into his shirt and coming up triumphant with a medical ID tag clutched between his fingers, the words ‘Doctor Rodcot’ printed across it in firm black ink.

“See this? This is how we get out, Mr Silent’s Eyes. I told you that you’d like it. I’m a secret agent, you know, which makes me ever so good at stealing things. I got this from the doctor. It was his, but now it’s mine, isn’t that clever?”

With a wide, toothy smile, Tori scanned the card across the lock, opening the door. “Come out and play, Mr Silent Loud-eyes. We can go on a mission together, if you like, but remember: sssh! We have to be quiet or the baddies will catch us.”

Infirmary
0753

Aveline peered up at Doctor 'Bacon' since she wasn't sure how to pronounce his last name. Bacon would work for now. She nodded like a good little girl, though she was already terrified at the idea of him touching her nose with so much as a feather. She'd rather not be in pain for the next few days. It was scary, like when X tried to make her kill that chicken when they were five. She frowned again and looked at Doctor Bacon. He said he was going to help her, so it must be true.

And the nurses wanted to help her, so these were good people. It was just that crazy kid she needed to worry about. And her brother, but he was something she'd dealt with for years with no problems as far as she could see. "Do I get a lollipop? Or have I been bad?" she asked the doctor, feeling like a little kid. It was an innocent and happy feeling, not the shameful and arrogant one.

Solitary Confinement
0905

The wild-haired youth slowly tilted his head at Tori's comment. A small smile crept across his lips, tentatively, as if it wasn't sure it should be there. Even Devan, who had spent a majority of his life as good as mute, sometimes underestimated the expressive power of body language. From time to time he found himself surprised that someone had understood what he meant to convey when he had not used words in the least. In fact, Devan made almost no sound whatsoever - he never whistled, he never growled or cried out in pain during a fight. The closest he ever got to utilizing his vocal chords was probably when he would gasp if the breath was knocked out of him or when he coughed. So to hear Tori mention aloud that Devan could speak without speaking made him smile.... Awfully wise words coming from a madman.

Devan scrutinized the medical tag Tori presented then. Doctor Rodcot. Was that even real? If the ID was then the name couldn't be - an anagram of 'doctor' wasn't very creative. Devan was sometimes good at spotting anagrams thanks to his dyslexia; he mixed up both words and letters, so it didn't always help, but if the word was short enough or the letters simple enough he could figure it out pretty quickly. He wondered if all the staff had fake names, or if, perhaps, Tori had just been given the tag to distract him with something shiny and important-looking.

Either seemed plausible.

Tori then explained he had stolen it, which sounded honest and made Devan's 'talking eyes' light up at the increasingly tangible idea of escape. Devan peered out the little window as his dark-haired ally moved to put the ID card to use. The door softly cracked open.
"Come out and play, Mr. Silent Loud-Eyes."
Devan pulled the door open enough to slink through, his dark eyes scanning across the large hall he had been too drugged to get a good look at before. It was very open. He didn't like open; it made him feel exposed. He stepped briskly past Tori to his left, moving toward the nearest corner, though he paused to glance at a door he almost passed by. STAFF. He eyed the door up and down, then looking to his partner-in-crime with a silent question in his eyes like a child pleading for something in a candy store. Specifically, he gazed at the ID tag still in Tori's hand. Surely if it could open Solitary Confinement, it could open what appeared to be a staff-only room.

Dining Hall
0747 – 0748

One of the nurses, after a quick exchange of looks with Sam, stepped forward towards the girl who was currently throwing a tantrum over the fact that her breakfast was not up to the standard was anticipating. Far from looking annoyed at the mess, Lauren placed a hand on Karissa’s shoulder to get her attention.

“Karissa, come with me so we can get you cleaned up,” she suggested with a hint of sympathy behind her directive, removing her hand and took a careful step backwards, feeling the soles of her sensible shoes became slick with milk. Like all the other staff of the facility she personified patience when faced with a difficult situation, and had no intention of letting Karissa get away without eating anything. Until circumstances changed, these children were their responsibility and would be cared for well. That included eating their breakfast, even if it was something unwanted.

Dining Hall
0746-0750

After her fit, Karissa snorted at Matt, who also expressed that he loved bacon. Come on, who didn't? You were inhuman if you didn't like meat, according to Karissa. Oh, but then Jack spoke, and she lost faith in him. Her savior, her comforter, didn't... like... BACON?! What was wrong with him? The fact that he didn't like bacon made his... situation with her spilled oatmeal and milk made her burst into an almost maniacal laughter. She hadn't even aimed, and it landed in the perfect spot. She loved humiliating people sometimes, and the gooey food that was still dripping over the edge of the table was just so hilarious to her. And the fact that Jack couldn't wipe it off was the most humorous thing.

Yet, as soon as a small, dainty hand was place on her shoulder, Karissa stopped laughing. Her gaze once again turned cold as she turned to the nurse who's hand was so "conveniently" placed on her frail shoulder. She hated being touched, usually, especially by people she didn't know. Yes, Jack was an exception earlier, but now a nurse she hand't even seen yet was trying to get her to clean up. Um, no, that was not what Karissa wanted. No nurse was going to see her naked. No way.

Just as she was about to throw the nurse called Lauren's hand off of her shoulder, Lauren and dropped it. Karissa smiled slightly and turned to face the nurse before standing. Being so short, it was sometimes hard to act tough. But she did the best she could. She stood on her tip-toes, puffed up her chest, and crossed her arms annoyingly over her chest. "And if I say no?" she asked, still trying to be tough. She didn't want everyone to think she was always a coward. "Wait, don't answer. I'm just going to say no."

With that, she turned on her heals and began to walk out of the dining hall. She knew it was risky, seeing as she wasn't even sure if she could get out of the pee-colored room without a nurse. But she was willing to risk it. She took off towards the doors, and attempted to open them, hearing the nurses rush of footsteps behind her. The door wouldn't budge, and now she was in big trouble.

Before the nurses could catch her, she collapsed onto the ground and burst into another fit of hysterical tears.

Infirmary.
0755-0810.

In the private confines of his own mind, a small, Trephan-shaped avatar rolled over and died laughing at an image conjured by a stray thought, while ‘Doctor Bacon’ himself simply smiled kindly. He had learned a very long time ago that sniggering at people’s private opinions of him was a sure-fire way to disaster; he had long practice when it came to keeping a straight face under the pressure of hilarity.

“You can have a lolly if you want. I’ve got all sorts of flavours; strawberry, lemon, apple, blackcurrant-” Trephan continued to list flavours, coaxing a string of distraction between them as he examined the girl’s nose. It was very simple telepathy, even less invasive than his listening to her thoughts; just an underlying compulsion to focus on his words.

The question of Trephan’s kindness was subjective, but at the present he was being merciful; he had no intention of causing this creature pain. Her mind was too beautifully twisted to damage; her madness was delicious as it bubbled through his brain, saturating his sanity with her electric eccentricity. He wanted to preserve, not maim, and in a situation where pain would mean a cessation of the thought train he was eavesdropping upon, he had no inclination to hurt.

“I have round ones, and square ones, long ones and short ones, ones that are a funny shape…” Her nose wasn’t broke, and the bleeding had slowed; he cleaned up the mess automatically, while letting his mind remain focussed on the distraction weaving between them.

“And I even have ones with soft insides. There, all done. So, what sort of lolly would you like?”

Pulling back with a wordless sensation of loss (her mind was electric!), he flicked the bloodied gauze he’d been using into a yellow bin, and peeled away his soiled gloves. “We can get one now, if you like?”

Outside Solitary Confinement.
0907.

As if he were coaxing a lion out of its cage, Tori stepped back just a fraction each time Devan came forwards, his posture keen rather than wary, that self same grin still plastered all over his dark face.

“I told you, I’m a secret agent. See? I got you out. You look… hmm… your eyes are talking again, Mr Silent Loud-Eyes, but they’re talking so fast that it’s hard to tell what they’re saying. ‘How did Tori get so clever?’? They might be saying that. I think that’s what they’re saying, you know.”

He giggled again, drifting after Devan as the lad headed for a ‘Staff Only’ door. “Tori got so clever because he’s on a secret mission. He knows everything, he’s been around for a long time, just like he said before. That’s what I’d say to your eyes, if they were asking that question.”

A dark finger traced thin lips. “But maybe they’re asking to go through that door… I think they are, you know. Your body seems to want that too. It’s hard, when you don’t use words, but it’s all like a picture to me. Your body is covered in paint, and it draws for me. Words… words are magic, but extra. You don’t need them, not when you’re good at watching.

“My eyes,” Tori murmured, stepping up to the door. “Are good at listening. Very good at listening indeed. That’s why I’m here, you know, why they thought I needed to be here… because of my clever eyes. They see everything…”

Slowly, as if in a trance, he swiped the card across the lock to release the door.

Intervention: Dining Hall
0748-0750

Lauren halted a few steps from where Karissa had collapsed beside the locked doors. Though they had been briefed on each child’s needs, this was still a little unexpected. “Karissa,” she started to say, not approaching the hysterical girl, more than aware of the reaction her touch had instigated only minutes before. “It’s fine if you don’t want to go and get cleaned up.”

Reassuring and sounding remarkably wise, Lauren crouched down a few inches from where the crying girl had inelegantly placed herself, the hem of her uniform skimming the floor. “But you do need to eat something.”

There were a few noises behind her as another nurse tried to clear up the worse of the spills that the unstable patient had created through her dislike of porridge-based food. Efficiency and calm were key to the ideal environment for caring for these troubled children. Kindness equally balanced with control.

“If you don’t come and eat Karissa, we will have to take you elsewhere so we can calm you down. You know that we don’t like having to treat you that way, when we know you can be so agreeable.” It was not a warning; more of a gentle reminder that Karissa was generally well-behaved, and it saddened Lauren to see her acting out so badly.

Intervention: Outside Solitary Confinement
0907 - 0911

It was as the staff room door’s lock flashed ‘open’ that it swung open, revealing a woman who could have stood no more than five foot six, stoutly shaped and glaring down at the two boys who were directly in her path. There was a ‘click’ as she pulled the door behind her shut, closing off the brief glimpse of tables and chairs that had been awarded in her moment of surprise.

At first Janice did not speak, reaching out a hand to remove the card from Tori before he got over his surprise enough to stop her, pocketing it. “You are not supposed to have that Tori and you know it. How many times am I to remind you that breaking the rules is taken very seriously here?”

Despite her lack of height, the glare that she sent at them both was decidedly chilling. “And I suppose now you’re trying to rope another patient into your unruly ways?” A brief sigh, as if this was something she had known was going to happen but had been vainly wishing it did not. “Come with me you two, into the television room.”

If either boy showed any sign of resistance to move, or worse tried to get past her to the staff room, Janice would sternly advise them that that was not a good idea before escorting them through to where she intended to take them. She did not look like much but had been in this profession long enough to tackle two scrawny boys’ attempts to thwart her.

Dining Hall
0746 - 0750

Matt blinked, sensing Jack's tension as oatmeal spilled onto his lap. He shared Karissa's horrified look, however, when the redheaded boy stated he did not like bacon and did not eat meat. Matt's jaw literally dropped to hang open a little, his brows furrowing as if with disgust. Karissa then burst into uproarious laughter, but Matt's disturbed expression did not waver. For him, the notion of not eating meat was too horrifying to laugh at. He then watched a nurse approach Karissa comfortingly, though the girl did not take kindly to the woman's soothing words. She stood from her seat to face the nurse indignantly, and after a short exchange turned to storm out of the dining room.

But the door seemed to be locked. Defeated, Karissa fell to the floor to abruptly start sobbing again. Matt glanced to Jack briefly as if asking if he was going to handle it like before. Regardless, after a moment more of watching the scene with Karissa, Matt resumed eating wordlessly. He might have gone to help this time, but he didn't want to risk missing out on his breakfast. He couldn't be sure how long it would be before they were fed again, after all.


~


Main Hall
0907 - 0911

It was probably far from a bad idea to treat Devan Miyamoto with the kind of caution one would exercise around a lion. But Devan didn't acknowledge this; he stood patiently while Tori launched into another wordy explanation, turning to face the door in preparation for its opening. Regardless of if they drove him insane or landed him in here, the wild-haired youth vaguely appreciated Tori's 'clever eyes' if they allowed him to translate just what Devan wanted.

But when the door did open, he nearly walked into a shorter woman glowering at him and his partner-in-crime. Immediately he moved a few steps back. The nurse had a serious look to her face, but it was nothing Devan hadn't seen from his teachers in high school. Her intimidating demeanor did not deter him from taking off, making no attempt to signal or grab Tori. He abruptly turned and burst into a sprint like a cheetah, racing around the corner to pass the dining room he was unaware of. Ahead he could see a familiar lobby and the halls where everyone had first emerged from their rooms.

Devan did not know where he was going - his room was not an option, because although he could hole up in there away from the nurses and sedatives, not only would he be cornered but they could also lock him in. And then it would be as good as Solitary. Perhaps he could find an exit down one of those halls or, if he was quick enough, he could grab a nurse into a choke-hold as a hostage. The latter would be a last resort. Devan was not afraid of discipline, but he wouldn't push his luck; he doubted punching a fellow patient and threatening the well-being of a staff member would grant him the same punishment. Another idea occurred to him as he was nearly to the lobby... He wondered if there were toilet seats in the bathrooms, and if it would be possible to tear one off. He had used one to beat an opponent in high school once - it proved decently effective.

Intervention: Dining Hall
0750-0755

The familiar voice of Lauren appearing from behind her didn't help her tears much. Karissa just began to sob harder and pushed Lauren out of the way. "Stay away from me!" she screamed, her voice echoing off of the yellowing walls. "I"m not going to eat! No way, no how." She pushed Lauren away from her again, trying to tell the annoying nurse to leave her alone. Though that wasn't going to happen, Karissa was going to keep trying. She hated this place already; she just wanted to go back home to college, and continue to study. Besides, it was easier to die at home than in was in this hell hole.

She stood once again, only to begin pulling hard on the doors once more. They wouldn't open! Why wouldn't they open? So she, in poor judgement and decision (and in attempt to escape her "captives"), she began to kick at the doors with all strength left in her. Of course, having hit her second bout of uncontrollable sobbing within an hour time frame, she was losing energy. And quickly. She could feel the many hands of the nurses pulling on her, tugging on her to get her to stop, but she wouldn't. Not now, at least.

Even with their hands pulling her away from the doors, Karissa was still kicking at the doors, hitting nurses with her feet. "I don't want to be here!" she began to scream. "Let me go! Let me go! I WANT TO GO HOME!" She struggled as best as she could against the nurses, who seemed to have no trouble forcing her away from the door, and to the ground. But she wasn't going to stop struggling. She wanted out, and she was going to get away if her life depended on it.