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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 8:55 pm
Lutwidge Burr was on the hunt. Not on the hunt for food or for furniture, but for clothing. He was quite frankly embarrassed by everything he owned. He supposed he was lucky- who else got packages from time to time with new clothing in them? But still... everything in those packages was tight. And feminine. Usually in shades of pink or purple. He'd been lucky once, getting a bright yellow shirt. But that had fallen to rags a while ago, and so now he was sporting the cleanest of his things, a bright purple number with the name of some band or something on the front. He didn't know who Alice was, or why she was Dead, but really, he didn't care. He'd tried to barter the things away, but at six feet tall, he was one of the tallest patients here. He wouldn't fit into anybody's clothes, save for his own, so a-scavenging he went. He'd heard a rumor that one of the patients down this wing had "moved out," and as horrible as that could be, he was hoping that they'd left some of their things behind. Perhaps he could find a needle and thread and sew his own out of the leftovers or something? He didn't know, but he had to at least try. Carefully, he tried the doors. Some were locked; these, he left alone. Some had noises coming from behind them; these, he ran away from in a hurry. He did not want to upset the occupants. But soon, he came across a door that wasn't locked at all- in fact, it wasn't even shut all the way. Whoever had left this room, they'd left in a hurry. And, much to his delight, there was a pile of possessions on the floor! Black clothes, green clothes, brown clothes, all kinds of not-pink clothes! Gleefully, he dove upon the pile. What luck for him to have come across it first! But quickly he realized that his luck wasn't that great. The clothes were all far too small for him- whoever had owned these had been a slim female. Still, though, maybe he could take them for bartering currency? These didn't look like they'd been in the asylum that long- they didn't have that musty smell of pain and desperation that the place reeked of. He knew that there were probably a few people who would want these, people who might have something good in trade. Could he get a pillow for this pants? It seemed likely.
Suddenly, a noise caught his attention. He froze. Footsteps. Behind him. A shadow fell across the doorframe, and the teenager had a horrible thought. What... what if this room already had a new occupant? What if that occupant had just stepped out for a moment? What if that new occupant was standing right behind him, watching him rifle through her stuff? Swallowing hard, the boy didn't quite want to turn around. Whatever was back there, it couldn't be good.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 9:46 pm
Mills was wandering the halls; it seemed as if she had been doing the same for weeks. Maybe she had. She would not be surprised if someone told her as much. She had interacted with only a small number of patients, no staff (thankfully, apparently), and none of them were human! They may had been normal human beings at one time, but they no longer were. This left her wondering how she had managed to remain undetected, and how long she could go without having some sort of experiment forced upon her. Perhaps if she could find another 'friendly' she should ask about all that. Good idea, Einstein. Why didn't you think of that when you were talking with Zhu? Oh right, you were too busy wondering 'what the hell.'
She sighed. Her days were spent scavenging for food. Another good thing to ask would be where patients scored real food. Forever searching, forever wandering, it really was a lot like the outside world, in a way. She had been homeless there too. She had rarely stayed in the same place two nights in a row.
One of her favorite things in this place were half-open doors. Sometimes there were people inside, but sometimes she could find pocket-sized things that might be useful later. The door she found herself at now, that one she had a good feeling about. She pushed it open. And on the floor was... a human!
"Uhh..." She reared back a little. In the dim light he looked like he was doing something strange with his laundry. Maybe he had dropped a pile of clothes on the floor and was trying to organize them. "What are you doing?" Nice introduction. But if she sounded derisive and looked really tough, maybe he wouldn't give her any flack. He looked weak enough that if she threatened to kick his butt he might just believe her.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 9:59 pm
Lutwidge turned around slowly. Backlit by the hallway was a girl, a slender, tough-looking young woman, probably human, possibly furious. He'd never met her before, and from what he could see of her face, he wasn't surprised. Something about her looked new, like she hadn't ever seen horror like this place could hold. She was wearing dark clothes, a bit flashier than the ones he was holding, but still, these did look to be quite her style. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Think, Lutwidge, think!
"Uh... um... I'm... the laundry service." The laundry service? What the hell kind of idea was that? "Th... these are yours?" Ok. There was his out. If they were hers- honestly, they looked a little big- he'd go find the laundry, wash them, return them, and hopefully not get his a** kicked. If they weren't... hmm. He'd have to think. Maybe some of the clothes would fit her? The big sweater might, and it only had a few holes in the sleeve. And no bloodstains, which was a plus. If he could use them to buy her friendship, that could be more valuable than a new pillow.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:17 pm
The girl's eyes widened briefly. Perhaps he hadn't seen that. She shifted her weight from both both feet to just one as she leaned against the door frame and set her jaw. "Yeah... those are mine." Those clothes weren't hers, but he didn't seem to know that. In fact, he seemed very nervous and she had caught him in the act. If she played it right... maybe they'd become hers. And the room... she glanced around, was it even inhabited? Didn't matter. As long as the owner wasn't around and the door wasn't locked, it was free for all. She refused to consider where the owner would be if the door had been left ajar with their belongings strewn about on the floor.
"Laundry service, huh? You guys always come in without knocking? Or is leaving the door like that your way of telling me 'Hi, I'm just here to pick up your laundry'?" Now he's going to think that I think he broke in. Whether he did or not he knows he's in deep s**t. Haha, poor guy.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:25 pm
Rising to his feet, Lutwidge shrugged his shoulders, trying to play it cool. "Well, typically the laundry boy comes in when you're not home. We try to get your stuff back to you before you get back, so it's like little magic laundry gnomes cleaned your things. Or did you not notice? The service here is that of a five- nay, six-star hotel. Only the best for our fellow patients and experiments!" He smiled widely- perhaps he could charm his way out of this. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound as posh as possible. "We here at Crazyfolk Cleaners would like to welcome you to the Asylum, or, if you aren't new, to your new room! Although what happened the previous inhabitant is regrettable, we assure you that the same won't happen to you! We would like to recommend our world-renowned restaurant, Chez c**k-a-roach, for all your dining needs and hope to have the pleasure of your patronage in the future, madamoiselle." The clothes in his arms, he attempted to bow and sidle out the door, trying to remember where the laundry was. Somewhere in the basement? God, he'd have to wash these in a sink somewhere, he wasn't going down there. Not again.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:55 pm
"And you leave the door open so your 'assistants' can lift my stuff. I got it." This guy is good. His voice is still shaky. Am I that intimidating? She forcibly kept a smile from her face; it probably looked like she was pissed. All the better. If she could keep this up she'd do all right. Then maybe she could figure out a way past all those armed guards. Yeah, her and every patient before her. She wasn't going to let that hope go though, not just yet. "Hey that restaurant sounds great, but a little too flashy for me. I usually go for flies and a soda at the Grab-a-Grub on the corner, yanno, they have those great dollar meals."
The guy was trying to get away. Luckily his hair was so purple she wouldn't miss it in a blackout. She followed him out the door wondering what it would look like under a blacklight and if he had any glow-in-the-dark tattoos. Gotta at least nab the sweater. It looks really warm.
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Posted: Tue Sep 21, 2010 11:17 pm
Lutwidge cursed inwardly. She was following him. Dammit, he would have to go to the basement laundry instead of the men's room sink. Maybe he'd shake her on the way down there. The basement was pretty freaking terrifying. He tried to laugh the whole thing off for now. "Assistants? Hah! I am the assistant... which is why I know the Grab-a-Grub so well, what with my Laundry Boy's salary. Our Master Launderer was recently escorted to the Cages..." Poor Henrique. While he wasn't a Master Launderer or even a Master of Basic Hygiene by any means, he hadn't been a bad guy, either. "He came back, as one would say, white as a sheet. Not one of the grey things around here, mind you, but a proper sheet. Since then, he hasn't much been able to do his job, but he still won't give me a promotion! Can you believe the nerve?" He chuckled to himself, hoping the girl would think him funny enough that she wouldn't jump him or something while he was walking. Though if she was armed, she might be nice company if she insisted on following him down to the laundry. The basement was not a pleasant place. He dropped the goofy act for a bit, hoping to impart a bit of the creepiness of the place. "All of the ...machines... are in the basement. Have you... been down there yet? Because if you don't want to come down there, I promise I won't steal your stuff. Honest." It was true- though he'd been trying to steal the clothes, he didn't know that they had an owner.
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Posted: Wed Sep 22, 2010 3:14 am
Cages? Cages. Haven't heard mention of those yet. But they sound pretty bad. "Yeah that really sucks, man. But maybe that's why he won't give you a promotion." Chew on that for a while. Maybe you aren't trustworthy enough, or maybe you aren't ballsy enough, experienced enough. "Haha, some people, they go through life and if you haven't been through the same crap you aren't worth the time of day."
The guy's fear of going down into the basement was real. It was bad down there. But what place wasn't? The Cages, the Basement, everywhere there's the Boogeyman. "Hey man, it's your job right? See, what I tell you about the promotion thing." Her gut was telling her that they should look for another place to "wash the laundry." She didn't really care if they were super clean as long as they didn't smell like roadkill and vomit. She personally didn't care if they washed them in the sink. Would laundry dry in a place like this if they hung it up on a line?
Another part of her smelled possibility. What if it wasn't so bad down there? In a building, the staff is usually upstairs, so they wouldn't be down there. Who's down there? The scariest experiments? Night dwellers? Big spiders? What if there was a way out down there? But maybe this guy wasn't the right person to try to find that out with. She'd rather have a commando team with bazookas and assault rifles. So then they would have to storm the guards and accumulate artillery... Haha, yeah.
"Hey man, it's not like I got a place tellin' you how to do your job. If you're afraid of the dark, we can just call it even and say you did the laundry down there. Good luck finding a working sink and soap in a place like this. I mean, I know it's The Ritz and all that but there are limits..." She shook her fist at him and growled, "But if my smell gives your lazy work ethic away I won't take a bullet for ya."
She straightened and said, "So you got a name besides 'man' or 'guy'? I'm starting to sound like a broken record. My name's Mills."
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Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 10:37 pm
Lutwidge found himself nodding along. So far, so good. "I could use the sink on the second floor- it's probably the better option for a coward. Which I quite possibly am- after all, I don't have much of an initiative. And I suppose you need that to get a promotion. Around here, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, usually by one of the doctors... though, you being here, I assume you've met them already, Mills?" God, he hoped they hadn't worked her over too badly. Somebody as fiery as she was would probably have had it rough. Especially if she'd fought back. The doctors were not kind to women. Or anybody, really. But if she was still this tough, maybe the basement wouldn't faze her. If she was gonna go along with it, well, fine by him. "But really, the basement will be a better location. One of the places where there's a laundry isn't the worst of the basement. There's a part on the way there we'll want to avoid, which is doable if you don't mind crawling through part of a dismembered heating shaft. It's wide enough, though you'll have to go down on your belly and ignore the shrieks. Seriously, if you ever hear screaming down there, run away. Fast. But then there's an actual light down by the laundry. And the craziest of the crazies... don't have much interest in washing their clothes. So anybody we meet down there probably won't be too dangerous. Heck, if we're lucky, we might meet somebody actually sociable. Like me! I'm Lutwidge. Sorry for taking so long to introduce myself."
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Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 11:48 pm
"See, what I tell ya? How'd you get a job like laundry man if you can't even make it to the laundry room without quakin' in your boots?" She glanced back at Lutwidge. To think that she had already seen the doctors and be impressed by it made her wonder if she should go around saying she'd seen them and come back unscathed. But she had a feeling it would come around and bite her in the butt later on if she lied about something like that. "Naw, I haven't seen them. They don't even know I'm here, as far as I know. That or they don't care," she shrugged. Come to think of it, if he was normal-looking too, he must not have seen them either, right? "What about you? I thought everyone around here was a creepy crawly. You hiding an extra mouth with teeth and everything under your shirt or something?"
Lutwidge really did seem willing to go down to the basement, as terrified of it as he was. Maybe if I'm his bodyguard he'll pay me or do me a favor. And in this place it isn't money people are looking for. Maybe he's got real food or something. His description of the place was of course terrifying, but she was not in the habit of announcing the nature of her fears. "Well I don't really care either way as long as my clothes get clean. If you need a bodyguard, I can probably help you out but it'll cost you... Lutwidge," she smirked.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 12:10 am
Her words stopped Lutwidge dead in his tracks. "You... they don't know you're here? How? I mean, yeah, you're not one of the government experiments. At least I don't think you are. But that would mean that you're here for actual psychological reasons, or at least supposed psychological reasons, and they always give some kind of entrance exam." Frightened, he looked her over. "When I got stuck here by my dad five years ago for not being a girl, I was poked and prodded in every way imaginable." He stared at her, wide-eyed. Was he dealing with a pathological liar? (Oh, how ironic that would be!) Or... ohgod. Staff. She was staff. She was staff and they'd played with his head enough to know that he could be manipulated. She was just playing with him- making him think she was some tough patient who, like him, hadn't broken under the strain of the asylum. No WONDER she wanted to go with him to the basement- she was letting him go right into a trap! Horrified, he backed away from her. "Y... I see who you are. I see what you're doing. You're not getting me to go down there!" Turning on his heel, he bolted down the hallway, hoping that he could find a cabinet to hide in and she'd find some poor government experiment to torture.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 12:26 am
Mills took another step or two before coming to a vague stop and turning back. "What? No, I snuck in..." His brief history sounded horrible, but, well...them's the breaks. It was something she sometimes said, at least to herself. And either he was reliving those past five years in vivid detail or he was jumping to some conclusions that she couldn't begin to comprehend. "Hey, what the hell... I don't know what you're thinking man but I don't care either way. Hey wait! HEY! AT LEAST LEAVE THE SWEATER!"
Appalled, she managed to kick the wall, half losing her balance and swearing under her breath. How can someone be that scared of nothing AND keep a death grip on all those clothes? "Dammit!" she hissed and kicked the wall again, this time with greater emphasis. She had worked herself up before roaring, "YOU BETTER REALLY BE SCARED OR I AM GOING TO KICK YOUR ******** a** NEXT TIME I SEE YOU."
This place gets freaking cold at night. She moped around for a moment before wandering up the hallway back the way they had come. Her aim was that first, vacant room. Maybe she could salvage something from it still... maybe, if she was lucky, the old owner really wouldn't be coming back and she'd have a place to stay for a change.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 12:46 am
As he heard her shouts, Lutwidge turned around and sprinted back. There was no way she was staff. She wouldn't be yelling like that. It would attract other patients, and a lot of them weren't as nice as he was. She'd turned to walk away, and he grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around roughly. Dropping the clothes, he actually shook her. It was the most violent he'd ever been. "SNUCK in? You SNUCK in? Why the HELL would you do that? Did you not see the signs? The ones on the road that read 'Warning: Dangerous Prisoners, Stay Away"? The barbed wire fences? The big-a** gate? Did you miss the clues that this is a giant ******** mental institution? You know what the escape record is from here? None. Nada. Zip. Nobody's ever gotten out, and the ones that try get taken down to the ******** catacombs and ripped to shreds. They have a collection of brains in jars down there that were taken from the heads of living patients, just to see what would happen. And they hadn't even done anything!" This was something he'd never seen for himself, mercifully, but he'd heard stories about somebody who'd found it and was then preserved as part of the collection. Everybody had heard those stories. "Christ," he said, sweating profusely. "God. I... I didn't mean to flip out like that. It's just..." How can you be so stupid? Do you know what I'd do to get out of here? "It's just that I don't think you realize what you've gotten yourself into. Now that you've seen the inside... they'll never let you leave." He nudged the pile of clothes at his feet. "These aren't really yours, are they? Doesn't matter. They're yours now. You'll need 'em. Sorry for shaking you." Quietly muttering to himself, he turned to go. He felt awful for her- like he should give her a tour of the place, show her what was what and where not to go. On the other hand, though... she might actually be crazy, and that was kind of a rare thing in this madhouse.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 1:23 am
She heard his pounding footsteps before she could see him coming. If she had had a gun she would have shot before seeing the whites of his eyes, and any other weapon would have been swung as soon as she could reach him. You do not run at a person in a place like this (unless you know them?) without expecting something like that. But she had none of those things. I need a freaking gun. No. I need a machete. A really sharp one. But then he did something she really hadn't expected him to do, he grabbed her by the arms and shook her. What the ********> There, with the mental expletives. Dizzily, she shoved him away and was about to punch him for touching her let alone shaking her when he apologized.
Oh hell with it. When he turned away she kicked his a**. Flat of boot square in the tailbone. Had to hurt like hell if she dislocated it. She was so ******** pissed it didn't matter that he apologized nor that he had 'given' her those clothes that weren't even his. "Don't you ever touch me again! You freaking psycho. You think I would have come in here if anybody really believed the s**t they say about this place? It was a stupid ******** dare. This was supposed to be one of those creepy run-down places that everyone says is haunted but nobody really believes in ghosts do they? I don't need your lectures or your stupid pity!"
She shoved her way past him and found the door she had been looking for, slamming it shut behind her. If it was someone's room before, it was hers now. She stood there huffing with fury. DAMMIT. I forgot the stupid sweater.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 1:30 am
It had been a long time since anybody had actually hit Lutwidge. So when Mills kicked at him, it took the wind out of him and sent him sprawling to the floor, where he lay for a few seconds before even being able to get back up. His back and butt hurt like hell- he wasn't going to be sitting down for a while. Finally, he got up, snarling angrily. "Fine. If that's the way it's gonna be, then so be it. You think you're so tough? We'll see how much of a badass you are when the doctors come with straightjackets and scalpels. Or the kid who's an alligator hybrid comes around all hungry. Hope the dare was worth it!" He shouted at the closed door. He hadn't been this mad in ages, but y'know what? If she didn't want his help, then she wasn't getting it. Gathering the clothes, he clutched them to his chest and started to limp back to his room. It was slow going, and he hoped their fight hadn't attracted anybody else, particularly staff. He rifled through the pile in his arms, biting his lip and trying to concentrate to keep back the tears of pain. Still... Sighing and shaking his head, he turned around and took a few painful steps back towards the room the crazy girl was in. He left the sweater outside the door, then went off down the hall with the cache of clothing. Whatever.
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