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 Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:19 pm
Abigail glared at the voices that were rising, voices that were most certainly in conversation and not mutters or wonders.
"Shh!" She hissed, scrambling away from the window and across the floor more like a spider than a girl and within a blink she was seated near the music box looking anywhere but at the window or the others.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:37 pm
Matron as she was known throughout the asylum, even by the Doctor, tapped her perfectly manicured nails in rhythm to the music she could hear from her office that was, conveniently, just down the hall from the lobby area. The patients were.. adjusting, it seemed. Most had allowed themselves a form of obscurity, wall-flowering as some would put it if it had been a sock-hop, and that suited her just fine. They did not speak, they did not ask questions, and they took their medicine. Good little boys and girls always took their medicine.
Rising from her chair with the grace of a big cat from the jungles Matron scooped up the papers and files into her slender hands and walked them to the back of her room, opened a large drawer with a key - an antique thing with celtic inspired spirals and knots along the hand - and slipped them inside before locking the patient files away. Names, gathered from each of them, and their patient histories. Each also contained a small sample of hair contained in small, paper bags as well as a torn cloth with a blood sample, taken from a pin p***k at their fingertips while they slept. The drawer she'd slipped them into was thick and strong, a small part of the massive, almost intimidating sized cabinet that was more art than function, and slipped the key into her bodice.
Turning with a smile to the three orderlies that had waited for her to finish she gestured silently for them to lead as she walked the short distance to the lobby in order to bid good morning, or afternoon as it were, to the patients. It was very important to maintain as informal an atmosphere as possible for their benefit - Doctor's orders. Her men, tall and brute-like in striking similarity to all the others, took a single file once they were in the room and she herself took her time to walk about them while her dark, violet colored eyes lingered over the faces of each of the new arrivals.
Of course, 'new' was a figurative term and, in this particular case, discouraged.
"Mornin' all ye faithful!" She said exuberantly, making herself seen by all. Her perfect hands clapped in a soft manner and yet despite the music that was dutifully playing in the background the sound could be heard by all and did not simply catch attentions, it commanded them. The soft click of her shoes and a barely audible whisper of her white hospital dress, somehow rendered fine fashion against the alluring shape of her body, was the only other sound she made. Looking about at the faces revealed that there was a hardness behind the glittering amethyst eyes, and the soft, perfect lips even in a smile, and she waited only a moment before speaking again in her angelic voice.
"Now, I understan' ye all 'ave 'ad a tryin' experience," She continued, making her way to the center of the room along with two of her 'orderlies'. "But we 'ave always trahd t'e 'elp one anather 'owt."
She paused with a glance over her shoulder to see that the only creature in the room behind her was the girl, Abigail, ah, the resilient one... The child's fondness for dance had always drawn her to it but the Matron hated speaking over it. Turning her attention back to the patients she spoke over her shoulder to the girl.
"T'ern it off, Abi. Yew know ah don' like t'e repeat mahself." The music did abruptly end, but either a trick of the light or a lapse in attention hid the fact of whether it was truly the girl to do it or if it had been an unseen hand. Either way, the Matron continued.
"Now," She went on, folding her hands delicately over her lap as she took a seat and crossed her legs in perfect posture. "Ah understand tha' some o' ye may 'ave been bad boys and gerls, not takin' yer medicine. Ah do nat wanna remind ye that this is a fine place, and the 'ospitality of our Lord 'as granted ye a fine boon to 'avin ye see t'e grace and t'e luck o' being admitted under t'e fine eyes an' 'ands o' t'e Doctor."
For a moment, her violet eyes become cold as she looked towards the group at the fireplace. While her hands were crossed one of them turned at a silver ring on her finger, twined like two serpents that wove about her delicate finger and knuckles. They devoured each other, and in the firelight the amethyst eyes of the serpents matched the woman that addressed them.
"Ah' will not be 'avin any o' the Lords children actin' like common urchins an' spittin in t'e face o' t'e very man dat owns dis Manor. If ye 'ave a problem with t'e medicine then you speak with t'e Doctor about at, or ye begin with regular administrations of injections until ah' see regularity in yer patient medical files and behavior reports - nah more pill pocketin' an' no more lian'!" Her voice rose to being nearly angry while she spoke the last bits, but it was fleeting and easily replaced with another sweet, bone chilling smile as she stood.
"Now ah've no tahm to dawddle, but ah'll be back in an hour's time te fetch each o' ye fer your weekly appointments wit' t'e Doctor." A twinkle in her eyes accompanied a wink and a wave as she departed the room, whatever silence and eerie cloud that had fallen over both mind and spirit fading with her lack of presence - her orderlies remained and took to the task of flanking the room.
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 5:40 pm
The orderlies had ended Timothy's meal short, pulling away to another room speaking of how he was late to 'meet someone important'. He didn't know who it was, but he pocketed a biscuit from his tray as they turned around and pointed towards another hallway, trailing behind him and pushing him along as before. By the time he entered the room, there was a group of people near a fire place wearing gowns similar to his own, a girl in the opposite corner also wearing a gown, and a woman in the center of the room who looked strangely familiar. Timothy couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he felt as if he had met her before somewhere.
"Now, go sit over there, and listen to what the Matron has to say. Don't bother getting up, child. You don't want to upset the Doc by ignoring his assistant."
Timothy was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually made his way to the chair, and sat quietly listening to the Matron. The idea of upsetting the Doctor didn't sit well with him. If this was how they treated the obedient 'guests', he was nervous of what they might do to some of their more rebellious members.
After the Matron finished speaking about hiding medicine, the good will of the Doctor, how blessed they should feel to be here, she started to to leave having the orderlies follow suit and block all of the exits to the other hallways. She mentioned their personal appointments, and she clearly didn't want them to be late. Timothy was, and always has been, a very timid child. He didn't go out of his way to make contact with many people, even at school, and now was no different. Besides, the group near the fireplace seemed to take heavy scrutiny for their gathering, and whatever it was they speaking about from the Matron. Maybe staying distant from them for now could be a good thing, since it would be beneficial to not give the Doctor any reasons to doubt the honesty of his residency...
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Posted: Mon Aug 09, 2010 2:46 pm
Azalea could hear the commotion from her cell as it had been located next to the recreational area where most were now, as well as the assistant who was called "Matron" around here. Her words burned Azalea up so bad. Something did not sit well with Azalea on how this Matron presented herself. She could not make out the reason, but she felt it and she would not go willingly. It wasn't what she was taught.
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Posted: Mon Aug 09, 2010 10:23 pm
Grace felt a chill creep down her spine as the Matron's eyes froze her. She moved unconsciously closer to the fire before sitting up straight and staring right back, her eyes and chin stubborn. They could just go right ahead and inject her if they caught her, there was no way she was willingly taking those pills. There was nothing wrong with her, and she refused to take something that made her act as though there was.
She watched as the strange, chilling woman left, noting the guards- ahem, orderlies- that took up their posts around the room. She wondered for a fleeting moment if there was any way she could charm her way out, but that idea died as she got a better idea of what kind of men she would be working with. Their eyes were shuttered and hard, the kind of eyes a man got when they didn't really give a rat's a** anymore. They weren't the eyes of a man who could be bought or charmed.
She turned away and looked out the window for a long moment.
"I'm not crazy." she said, voice low and nearly vicious. "And I want to slap that Matron."
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Posted: Wed Aug 11, 2010 7:46 pm
Matron turned the corner with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes, snapping her finger at one of the orderlies in the room to gain his attention, and then leveled her eyes at the woman known as 'Grace'.
She said nothing, simply kept her smile and raised a finger to crook it bewitchingly. Grace would go first.
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Posted: Wed Aug 11, 2010 7:50 pm
Abigail hated the presence of the orderlies almost as much as she hated the presence of the Matron, though the former was far more dangerous than any of the men currently present combined. She wondered, as her eyes glazed over and her mind's vision flickered the faces of the new comers into view, how many of them understood just how dark a place it was that they'd stumbled into.
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Posted: Thu Aug 12, 2010 12:12 am
Grace hesitated only a moment, nodding to the two at the fire and standing. "Wish me luck..." she murmured, straightening and walking to meet the Matron, head held proud and high. Her gaze wandered over the others for just a moment before they snapped back to the woman.
She stopped a few feet away. "What is it, Matron?" she asked, voice cool and poised.
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Posted: Thu Aug 12, 2010 5:29 pm
Azalea finally started to move, her joints creaking and popping, from being stiff. She had not moved for many many hours. She needed to scout the area and get some food. She was beginning to get hungry again. Slowly she got up from her bed and ventured to the door, opening it and looking around. One orderly. She then stepped out cautiously and walked heavily towards the area where everyone else was.
Walking in she looked around to process the information she was taking in. If she was to have an upper hand in this place she needed to know a few people and get the lay of the land as well as this facility. She could see a male sitting quietly over in a chair. He looked like a good place to start and she wandered over to him sitting next to the chair.
"Hello there. I am Azalea."
Being a spy her English was fine, but her accent was fairly heavy. She looked at him then, wondering what his response was going to be.
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Posted: Thu Aug 12, 2010 6:23 pm
Timothy sat there, watching as the Matron called a woman up to her as she left. It was never a good thing to assume anything, but it felt safe enough to assume that she would be the first to see the doctor. Timothy almost let out a breath of relief, knowing he wouldn't be first. They would all go eventually, but he didn't mind being the last to be picked this time. He was used to it, since no one wanted a 'loser' on their team in gym class.
"Hello there. I am Azalea."
He turned his attention from the Matron towards the voice, which seemed friendly at first, to belong to a woman who appeared to be only a decade older than himself. It was becoming more apparent that he was by far the youngest one here. Even the girl sitting alone, keeping to herself, seemed to be a little older than he was. He noticed that she had taken a seat next to him, as if she wanted to talk. He wasn't a very outspoken person, but he wasn't rude either.
"H-hello, Azalea. My name's Timmy..."
His shyness shown through, as he turned his head away from her, and looked down towards the ground. Timothy noticed that Azalea was wearing a gown just like the rest of them. Perhaps she was here for the same reason the rest of them were.
"You missed her speak, by the way. That lady over there, nearing the exit. She's calling us for our appointments..."
He continued to avoid eye contact with Azalea as he spoke, but he heard a sound come from her general direction, which he recognized as a growling stomach. He was just about to break off a piece of his biscuit to continue eating his dinner, but he instead moved his closed hand to her and dropped it on her lap, only looking out of the corner of his eye for guidance. He whispered to her so not to alert the orderlies that he had brought his food with him, in case they should choose to confiscate it.
"Here... Eat that. You sound like you haven't eaten yet."
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Posted: Thu Aug 12, 2010 6:56 pm
Timmy was a nice timid individual that had almost seem to know her hunger, except she was sure the whole room might hear, as her stomach growled with such furious demands. He placed a piece of biscuit in her lap and the plucked it up devouring it in seconds. She nodded to him in thanks and turned to him now.
"Hello Timmy."
Her expression moving from hard and suspicious to calm and light as she smiled at him.
"I heard her words just fine. I was next door when I heard. You see that window up there?"
She pointed to one of the few windows. She nodded to it and then looked back at him.
"That is where I reside. Why are you here? You are so young."
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Posted: Fri Aug 13, 2010 2:39 pm
Timothy watched as she devoured the crumb-like piece of biscuit he had given her. Her stomach told most of the story, but her reaction would make one think that she hasn't eaten in days. He turned his head away again, as he began to answer her questions.
"I don't know why I'm here. All I can remember is being so excited to see my Gramps and Grandma, again. They live so far away, so I haven't seen them in years. But as far as this place is concerned, I don't remember or know anything. It's as much a mystery to me, as it is for you."
Then, his head turned towards Azalea, actually making eye-contact for only the second time. One of her statements had finally registered in his mind, and it struck him as rather odd.
"Wait... You 'reside' here? Does that mean that you live in this place?"
His confusion didn't completely show itself, but his eyes said nothing but surprise. He didn't show very much emotion unless he was alone with one of his books, so if Azalea had known him better, it wouldn't seem strange at all. But had they not been trapped here, they most likely would have never met, or she would have never taken the time to talk to him.
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Posted: Sun Aug 15, 2010 3:32 pm
How anyone could actually live here was beyond her, but by the look of a few here, it had appeared it was not beyond this place.
"No. I simply stay in that room apparently. It appears we both remember something other than this place. I was on my way to visit some associates of my fathers who were friends of the family for many years. Then not much after that. It is all fuzzy."
Her voice low enough to be near silent, through years of practice. No one could hear her and she wanted it that way. She looked around the room taking note of the orderlies and their positions in the room as well as the locations of the people or patients in the room. She especially made note of the woman that was doing the near same thing she was, but she seemed more wild in nature. It unnerved her a bit. She would watch her as well. Many here had a tale to tell and some sort of intel to share, verbally or else-wise.
She turned to him again and looked at him. His face had seemed quite familiar, but she could not yet place him.
"Let me ask you something, do you last remember being on a plane?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 15, 2010 5:22 pm
"I remember waiting to see my Grandparents again. I was traveling in something, but I can't remember if it's a plane or not. I don't remember very much... I don't even know how long I've been here, or how I ever came to be here..."
Timothy lowered his head, his spirits being brought down by the atmosphere of this 'Mansion'. He had memories, thoughts, dreams, anticipations... And all of them were a blur. It was hard to determine what was real, and what was a dream. He knew this place was real. He could touch it, smell it, see it. But even with everything he was being told, something inside of him was telling him that he wasn't supposed to be here. That he shouldn't be here. That everything in this facility was one large playwright, and they were all puppets to be toyed with.
He reached into his pocket, and sneaked more of the biscuit into his mouth. He knew the biscuit was real, though it wasn't very satisfying, it was better than nothing.
"I don't care anymore. I just want to go home..."
Timothy was afraid, and it was natural. He was but only a child, trapped now with strangers without any of the people in his life he cared for or trusted. Even though he was surrounded by people, and sitting next to Azalea, he was alone. It was almost enough to bring the 16 year-old to tears, but he held back his sorrow just enough to keep from crying. He didn't want to attract the attention of the orderlies.
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Posted: Fri Aug 20, 2010 11:24 am
Matron smiled with what could have been mischeviousness or genuine kindness, though the latter was doubtful considering the cold, hard look to her amethyst colored eyes. Up close, the Matron's beauty was far more like a doll than anything real - her skin was pale, the shade of a woman who hadn't seen the light of day in a good few weeks, but not pallid. It appeared firm, not a single line or wrinkle on her face - not even a dimple or laugh line.
"Yer appointment is up." She said simply, informally. With a graceful turn she raised her wrist and snapped nimbly at two of the orderlies who had accompanied her here. They took up beside grace now, a friendly smile on their faces as they nodded to the woman, and began an easy pace out of the room and down the hall. The walk itself was the entire length of the hall, an impressive show of the architecture of the mansion - clearly 1800's workmaship - but it was in silence. There was nothing in the Matron's demeanor or walk that suggested she was even aware of Grace's presence, but for her purpose, it was only when they had reached the end of the hall and turned right - to the left was a very old, intimidating door that had chains bolted across it in a chaotic, uncharacteristic manner, which suggested it was meant to keep something out rather than the patients in - and there was the door to the Doctor's office.
"'member yer manners." The Matron said, maintaining her smile as she gestured towards the door.
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