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Post by Elcie on Feb 16, 2009 8:30:27 GMT -5
The nurse serving the food was, thankfully, not a talkative one. She didn't make eye contact with Zander; he took the food without a word and retreated to an empty table, watching the rest. The oatmeal was, as usual, lukewarm and rather tasteless, but he spooned it down anyway as his eyes flicked from person to person. There were some new ones here, he saw - children, identical twins, sitting with Ender. Zander sighed at this; he was not overly fond of children and there was something that unsettled him about seeing them in the asylum. He wasn't sure why he should be so bothered, but there it was.
If he ate quickly he could retreat to the courtyard while it was still empty, the early-morning air fresh and chilly, but it was impossible to spoon his oatmeal down too fast or he would gag. Zander slowed down a little, still watching the rest of the patients intently.
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Post by ♥ Rain on Feb 16, 2009 9:09:00 GMT -5
Nour padded into the dining hall and immediately groaned. All the good seats were taken. She'd have to sit down by someone. She went over to get her oatmeal. Perhaps she'd stand. At least.... at least there wasn't a line. The grouchy nurse behind the counter shoved a bowl at her and Nour glared back. Oatmeal. She'd been afraid of this. There would be nothing good to eat midmorning.
Nour sleepily took her bowl over to a table and sat down. "Miri," she said quietly. She had sat down next to the blonde girl. She jutted her head toward the new boys. "They're new. What'dya think of them? Hyper, so hyper. What they meant by putting little kids around here... oh, I don't know what the world is coming to." She leaned back in her seat. Zander and Ender were here. And that one guy. Simon. It had taken her forever to memorize his name. The dining hall was full of men today and even little boys were encroaching on it. "I hope you don't mind me sitting here," she said, stirring her oatmeal around in her bowl, trying to think through if she would be hungry enough throughout the morning to regret not eating.
Eventually she took a bite. Sighed. Took another bite. "They don't know how to make good oatmeal," Nour said to herself. "It's not an exact science and they act as if it's plain math. Their math is wrong. They need to add more sugar." After a few more bites, she scraped her bowl and slumped forward on the table. It would be another very long day. With the boys around, though, there might be a good chance she could sneak off around the nurses and head off toward her basement library. That was a good idea. She'd bide her time and keep her eyes on the boys. She'd have to learn their names.
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Post by Cyborg on Feb 16, 2009 11:12:55 GMT -5
(Is White any better than yellow?) Cain walked up to the nurse, who was either too tired, or too smart to talk, and grabbed what he called the sludge, which was a fitting description. He headed to Nour's table, he had grown to like Nour, well Able had, Cain didn't really like anyone.
" Oh hello Nour, Miri, how are you on this fine day? " Able asked cheerily as he began eating what he called delightful food. " Oh it's not wonderful and you know it? Who are those rotten, hyper brats? " Cain asked almost gagging on the oatmeal. " Oooh children how delightful!! Let us go meet them! " Able stated as he walked over to the children. As he did this, he turned around, and Cain mouthed " Help Me! ". " Hello children, what are your names, I am Able, and this is Cain. Hi, now leave me alone. Oh don't mind him, he's such a grouch. Did you just arrive here? We've been here for about two years, it is a lovely facility. Oh shut up, it sucks here, the staff members are mean, uncaring, and mysterious, the food is terrible, and the beds are uncomfortable. Stop, you will scare the children. " Cain,..and Able stated.
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Post by OG Loc on Feb 16, 2009 17:01:36 GMT -5
M walked into the cafeteria, glancing around at the people there. It seemed that it was mostly the usual suspects, with the addition of two twin boys. P was the only part of M.P.G. who enjoyed the company of children; M was indifferent to them, and G despised them. He also saw Cain/Able, one of the only people in the asylum that M had sympathy for, considering their rather similar condition.
He walked up to the counter and received his oatmeal from the nurse, then walked up to the same table where the children, Nour, Miri, and Cain/Able sat. He saw an available seat and took it, only briefly nodding to the others there before he began to eat.
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Post by Gelquie on Feb 16, 2009 18:21:40 GMT -5
((Well, by dirty blonde, I kinda mean more brownish than blonde. ^_^; Sorry, pet peeve.))
Miri was slightly surprised that people would sit near her, but it didn't matter; what did matter is that she was still in sight of everyone. Heck, people coming to her table probably made things easier for her to watch them. She turned one eye over to Nour and kept her other eye on the boys.
"They seem friendly and nice," Miri said in a voice that seemed somewhat distant. "But they'll learn to be careful. The nurses will come after them, after all. And no, I don't mind." Miri then turned her eye towards Cain/Abel. "It's the same as ever, except for the new kids here," Miri said simply to answer Abel's question.
Once she was done answering the general questions pointed at her, Miri looked back over to the twins, though she paused when M sat down. She had learned to be very wary of him; if G was dominating the personality, it usually meant that she should run away very, very fast. But after a moment, she figured that if it was G, he would've done something by now, so she went back to staring at the twins.
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Post by Omni on Feb 16, 2009 18:43:03 GMT -5
((Cyborg: Yes. White is a neutral color and doesn't clash with anything. That's why most of the skins have white font.))
The Artist woke to the sound of a bell. Unlike most of the inmates, she didn't open her eyes to see a plain, blank wall. Next to her bed, hidden from most angles, was a picture that she painted while no one was looking. It wasn't much, but it helped break up the monotony of the asylum life, and seeing it every morning as she woke up cheered her up a bit.
Deciding it would be best not to keep the nurses waiting, she got up, stretched, and quickly put her clothes on before the cold got to her. Without a word, she walked out the door, joined the line, and got her food (if you could call it that).
However, instead of taking a seat, she walked along near a blank wall. To the others, it was likely just a plain, boring, old wall. She, however saw it as a canvas of sorts: an untouched, unrefined something just waiting for a brush, or a chisel, or another tool. Given the chance, she would take this wall, or a wall in the courtyard, or both, and put in image of some thing on them. She hadn't yet decided what, but she certainly didn't want it to be dull. Almost absentmindedly, she ate a spoonful of the oatmeal. Someday, she thought. Just wait…
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Feb 16, 2009 21:42:14 GMT -5
Hope moved slowly toward the cafeteria. She knew what awaited her: less-than-appetizing food (probably oatmeal), confused company, blank walls. Pure monotony. She longed for something different, longed to escape the blankness of her world. But she couldn't. Try as she might (and try she did often!) she had no recollection of who she was before she'd arrived in this dreary place two weeks earlier. Two weeks, and she felt she was nearly mad in spite of her reported sanity.
She had been right, it was oatmeal. It tasted more like warmed-up mush, but she ate it without complaint. She rushed, wanting to reach the courtyard. She liked it, though she wasn't sure why. Though it was less morbidly silent than the rest of the asylum, the relatively fresh air made Hope curiously restless.
Smiling across the cafeteria at Fallon, she rose. Hope quickly took her empty bowl up to the counter and rushed out, running down the hallway. She smiled. Today was a new day, and with it came a new hope.
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Post by Lizzie on Feb 17, 2009 9:22:47 GMT -5
The nurse left Fallon at the cafeteria. She got in line. "Ugh, oatmeal!" she cried, and ran to a table. She had decided to go to the courtyard, her favorite place at this boring Aslyum.
Smiling joyfully at Able/Cain, Miri, Noir, MPG, The Artist, Zander, Ender, and Hope, she jumped up, and, catching a smile from Hope, and race after her, now running towards the courtyard at full speed. "Hope, wait up!" Fallon called.
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Post by KitClairvoyance on Feb 17, 2009 9:56:15 GMT -5
(( Cy, white is equally horrid on my skin. It's practically transparent. Please don't colour your posts. ))
Harry thought that the other Harry was quite obviously out of his mind. Nobody with a shred of common sense ate two bowls of oatmeal and asked for more. He was quite full anyway, and he really only was here for breakfast because this was where everyone else was. Swirling his finger around in the empty bowl of oatmeal, and thus getting the brown pale gunk all over it, he traced little smiling faces in the residue. It was lumpy, which made it doubly icky in his mind.
Doubly icky is fun though.
He started to wipe the insides of the other bowl with the same finger, just on the other hand. Halfway through the bowl, he looked up to see the most imposing and wonderful person looking down at him.
"I know you!" he exclaimed, the most ginormous smile plastered on his face, "You're the SNORING guy in our room!" The exclamation was far loud enough to be heard over the wispy chatter in the dining hall. He looked up at him real proud like, expecting to be praised for his immense powers of observation. When no praise seemed to be in store, he racked his brains as to why. The image of a poster detailing etiquette when meeting a person popped to mind, along with the most obvious solution to his predicament.
Wiping his hands quickly on the white clothes that the nurses had been so kind to provide, managing to spread the slop all over his hand more than get it off, he grabbed the man's hand and shook it firmly. Still beaming and holding the man's hand, he gave a little bow. "My name is Harry Louis Versallies XVIII," he pronounced it 'Ex Vee Eye Eye EYE', "and I am most utterly pleased to meet you."
Meanwhile his other ragged half managed to somehow warm the heart of the food lady who melted all over the place and placed a very, very generous dollop of oatmeal into a new bowl, and handed it to him, the gargantuan mound of oatmeal wobbling precariously (to his joy, it had more lumps than usual). He stammered his astonished thanks at the lady's generosity and carefully teetered and balanced his precious mound of oatmeal back to the table. It was the most delicate mission of his entire six years of existence, and he took it with extreme seriousness. He tread to the left, then to the right, and to the left again, and left, and left, and-
"Oh dear," he said, mouth agape as he saw his precious mound of oatmeal now splattered all over a pale person with purpley hair. Quite the oddity, Harry thought. He'd never seen a purple haired person before. He looked even odder now, with the lumpy oatmeal all over him, especially tangled in that hair of his. "I'm very sorry, mister," he said, putting on his most professional voice as he tried to scoop his oatmeal back into the bowl, and off the man. "I apologise deeply from the deep depths of my deep heart." Inside the little heart of his, he was quite proud for being able to come up with such a profound apology.
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Post by Elcie on Feb 17, 2009 14:46:00 GMT -5
Zander straightened slowly, wiping off bits of oatmeal, and smiled, looking oddly strained. "Careful you don't trip like that on one of the staff... most of the people who bother them are never heard from again." The tone of his voice made it impossible to tell if he was serious or not, his eyes humorless, although there was an odd quirk to his smile that suggested otherwise.
One of the nurses in supervision was watching him warily, apparently afraid he was going to go off on the kid, but there was no real danger. Zander was irritated but wasn't having much difficulty staying in control, mainly because he was rather pleased to have an excuse to leave the dining hall. The staff never could read his moods - though, then again, no one could. Zander liked keeping them on edge.
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Post by Crystal on Feb 17, 2009 18:42:17 GMT -5
Harry frowned at the odd purple man, and his eyes widened with six year old intensity. "Really? Why?" he asked. "Why are they mean? Are they... are they, y'know..." and he lowered his voice to a piercing whisper that everyone could hear clearly "like, witches?" And he turned his head to look at every single one of the nurses, craning to make out blue spit.
He nudged up closer to the purple haired, oatmeal covered man. "They're not, right? Right? Right? I mean, we just got here. Me and Harry, so we haven't heard any stories yet, so please please tell us. We like stories." He reflected that he hadn't yet told this very nice mister his name, so he tripped on. "And we're different Harries, see, he's Harry Louis Versailles XVIII, and I'm Harry Louis Versailles XVIV but Harry thinks I'm really Nick, but I don't think so, cuz I think he's Nick, but he didn't think so so now we're both Harry, and cuz I like oatmeal and Harry doesn't, so we're very very different."
Harry breathed and beamed and breathed some more.
"They're not witches, right?"
Meantime, Harry Louis Versailles XVIII (or possibly Nick) had let go of their brand new snoring roommate's hand and spun to face a brand new person. The new person had spiky brown hair, and his expressions and voice kept switching between two people. Harry thought that was magnificently and overwhelmingly cool, and wished he knew how to do it.
Then the wonderful brand new person began talking in conflicting statements, and Harry blinked. "What?" he said, and tried to digest the new person and oatmeal at the same time. It didn't really work. "Mister," he said with a very grave nod, scratching his hair with an oatmeal covered hand and staring up at his new friend with serious blue eyes, "you're talking crazy."
Harry frowned and wondered why that poster of etiquette came right back into his head.
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Post by Cyborg on Feb 17, 2009 18:45:26 GMT -5
( I colour my posts because some of the speech will be complicated. Rider colours a lot, maybe even all of her posts, and no one complains, so why can't I colour my posts? Am I missing something? And white should be fine, like Omni said, it's neutral, and shouldn't clash or.. look horrid, with any background. And to those who control Harry, and Harry, that's who Cain and Able were talking to in my last post.)
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Post by KitClairvoyance on Feb 17, 2009 18:49:38 GMT -5
( I colour my posts because some of the speech will be complicated. Rider colours a lot, maybe even all of her posts, and no one complains, so why can't I colour my posts? Am I missing something? And white should be fine, like Omni said, it's neutral, and shouldn't clash or.. look horrid, with any background. And to those who control Harry, and Harry, that's who Cain and Able were talking to in my last post.) ((White looks terrible on white. You can't read it. Rider's is just a glow, not actual colouring of text. ))
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Post by Amneiger on Feb 17, 2009 20:30:46 GMT -5
Simon had visibly jumped and nearly dropped his spoon when he heard one of the kids suddenly shout something about snoring. He had then stared in blank incomprehension as they began enthusiastically chattering to patients, trying to shake hands, and jumping in the faces of various people.
The asylum had been built from cold metal and concrete. The windows with their bars and glaze might as well have been another section of wall for all the comfort they gave. The nurses were far distant, speaking from some remote world. The other patients were scattered islands, to be observed or avoided.
How could they not understand?
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Post by OG Loc on Feb 17, 2009 21:33:15 GMT -5
M ate his oatmeal in silence as he listened to the conversations around him. His opinion of the oatmeal was his opinion about most things; though he didn't necessarily care for it, it was nourishment, and he knew he needed to eat to survive.
"Mister, you're talking crazy," he heard one of the twins say to Cain/Able.
"Make no mistake child," M suddenly said, "but the man you see there is not a single man, but two. I myself am three personalities in one body, although the changes are not quite so instantaneous with my case."
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