The Common Room Showing 801-850 of 1,208

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Morgan nodded. "Yeah I was just really scared all the time for a while, and then I ran into a boy named Carlos and he was really mean. I'm much better now though," Morgan said, pasting a smile onto her lips.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"Oh, no." The younger Frost's voice became sympathetic. "I'm sorry about that." Of course, there was a part of her that wanted to know what had happened, but because she knew from experience how bad the questions could get, Cat decided to hold her tongue. Out of politeness's sake if nothing else.

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Morgan shrugged, brushing it aside with a laugh. "No, no, it's fine! It taught me a lesson and now I'm all better." Morgan kept the smile bright, and didn't let it phase her.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"Taunt you a lesson?" Cat's brows drew together, and she frowned. What sort of lessons could anyone think a seven-year-old needed to learn, especially when they were innocent and lived in an asylum? The thought of someone--someone who might have been like her Silas when he got angry--nearly made her shudder again, though she of course resisted. "What do you mean, Morgan?"

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Morgan shrugged. "I learned that I shouldn't ask too many questions because a lot of people get really mad from questions." She spoke so nonchalantly and shrugged. "I just got smarter from it."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

A shaky little sigh escaped her. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Morgan shrugged. "It's fine! I'm all good now." Morgan shook her head. "Let's not talk about the scary things anymore though, okay?"

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

Cat nodded. "Yeah, okay." Her attempt at a smile was awful; it came out as a very small, almost terrified expression. She was thankful none of that fear showed in her voice--and then Morgan couldn't see. Sometimes, being around the blind could be advantageous. "I'd like that. What do you want to talk about instead?"

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

The little girl brightened almost automatically. "How long have you been here, Cat?"

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

Cat frowned a little, and thought. It surprised her, that she couldn't remember right off the bat; but then, the weeks had begun to blur. "Umm...a few months now. I think. What about you?"

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

"Mmm, four years now? Daddy dropped me off when I was three." Morgan twirled her curl around get finger, and she offered a little smile. It was odd to think that she was so old, and that she had spent so much time here.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

Cat's eyes widened with surprise. "You've got to be kidding me," she said, shock and sympathy taking up equal parts of her tone. "Good grief, I'm sorry." She seemed to be doing a lot of apologizing today. "Your dad must be a total jerk."

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Morgan laughed a little. "Yeah, he was, I suppose. And this is just a great place to grow up, you know." The little girl's voice was heavy with sarcasm, and she laughed a little.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"Totally." Cat actually managed a roll of her eyes. "St Peter's Asylum: the very definition of family-friendly."

((Derping. Fade?))

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

((Fade.))

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

It had been several minutes since his conversation with Felix, and since then Carlos had decided to take his own advice. He'd steeled himself, asked a nurse for Sera's most likely location, and then limped off to the common room to see if he could find her. He sat on the couch now, twiddling his thumbs--a nervous habit--and searching the small crowd for a face her recognize. He couldn't help but worry: how bad was it? From the way patients and nurses alike stared and went out of their way to avoid sitting next to him, bad. Very bad. Oh, God, what had he done?

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Sera came into the room, gently shutting the door to the asylum behind her. Since the night before she had cleaned herself up remarkably, and she wore long sleeves to hide the bruises, paired with shorts. A tiny bit of white gauze peeked out from under her sweater, but she didn't think anything of it. Brown hair was pulled up behind her head in a pony, and molten caramel eyes scanned the room, jumping a little when they landed on Carlos.

Its okay, he's okay now , she told herself as she made her way over. She'd have to face him sooner or later, and he'd certainly notice her if she left. She offered a little wave as she sat across from him, taking care not to plop, and even then wincing a little as she sat down.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

Long sleeves. Gauze poking out from beneath a heavy sweater. Bruises on every other inch of his nurse's exposed skin, nose swollen and almost purple. Carlos took stock of the situation with a gaze that he hoped was at least somewhat calm, but that hope was dashed two seconds later when he saw that jump. That little start that had claimed Sera when she noticed him. She was afraid. No, she was terrified. Terrified and hurt--and it was all his fault. He lost it when he saw her sit, and watched her wince at even that small movement. An actual sob escaped him, harsh and desperate. "Oh my God," he whispered. Dark hands flew up to cover his face, to hide the tears that were surely falling. "Oh my God. Oh my God, Sera. I'm so sorry. I am so fucking sorry."

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

"No, no, no, I'm fine," Sera murmured, falsely reassuring the young boy. "It's not that bad; I'm fine." She stretched across the space to place a hand on the boy, but her body protested with a quick shock of pain. Sera sat back.

"Carlos, it's fine."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"No! No, it's not fine! Look at you!" Carlos was crying freely now, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except for Sera--gentle, loving Sera, who had always been there for him, always stuck up for him, never put him down. And here she was, injured, too injured even to reach out and put a hand on his arm. Too scared to even sit beside him. And it was all. His. Fault. "Oh my God," he moaned. "Sera, I'm sorry. I am, I am, I'm so sorry." And the unspoken thoughts in his mind were, of course: What have I done? What kind of monster am I?

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

"Carlos, hush, you're creating a scene." An almost motherly tone had entered her voice, and Sera made the brave move to slide off the couch and in front of him. Her legs bundled up underneath her, and she calmed her irrational fear of the boy as she reached a hand to rest upon his knee. "Carlos, I don't blame you. It's fine, don't beat yourself up about it."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

He wanted so badly to hug her--but he knew that such an action could only bring pain, not to mention fear, back into his nurse's expression, and so he refrained. It took all his will, but he refrained. Instead, he simply lowered his hands so he could look her in the face, unmindful of the tears, unmindful of everything except his nurse. "I did this to you," he whispered. His voice shook, and broke on the word 'this.' "I did it and I can't even remember. I could have killed you, Sera. I could have killed you, because--" because I'm not strong enough to hold the beast back. "Because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and you were just trying to help me. Why am I not in solitary confinement? Why am I walking around without an escort? I'm a monster, Serafima. I am. Why am I free? Why haven't you reported this?"

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

"Because you're doing this, Carlos." Sera offered a little smile to her patient, a comforting one, and she rubbed his knee. "You're able to feel bad about it. You understand your actions and you are able to regret it." Sera gently brought Carlos' chin down, and made contact with his eyes. "You're human. And that's why I don't report these."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"Sera." Carlos took the hand on his knee in both of his own, and squeezed. He squeezed hard. "Sera, I'm dangerous. Can't you see that? To you, to my mother, my friends, everyone! I do these things--I want to do these things--on a regular basis. I don't see what humanity has to do with anything!" The poor boy looked completely distraught, as if no comfort had been taken from Sera's smile and words. "Haven't you figured it out yet? I can't be walking around like I do. I just can't. I'll hurt you, or your friends, or my friends, and then I'll never be able to forgive myself. Report me, Sera. Please. Keep yourself safe."

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Sera shook her head. "That's my decision, not yours. And I'm not going to do that to you; I'm not going to trap you somewhere again." Sera brought her other hand down and clapped it around his. "Carlos, you're hardly the worst person here. If we let Raven and Silas and Jason ruin around without stuffing them into solitary confinement, then you're definitely the last person to go in there."

She pressed a gentle kiss to his hands. "You're fine. It's been the first time in a long time. You're doing better; so much better. So you snapped once, oh well. Everybody does now and again."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"Not like me. Not like this." But it was clear that she was beginning to get to him. The hands over his, the kiss she had made--she was getting to him. Carlos's tense body relaxed, if only slightly. The tears had stopped falling (though they still glistened in his eyes) but his voice was firm when he said: "I'm sorry, Sera. You believe me, don't you? You know I'm not just saying that because that's what I'm supposed to do? I really am sorry. Really, truly sorry."

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

She offered a small smile and nodded as she reached up a thumb and brushed the tears off of his cheeks. "I do. I believe you, and I know you're sorry. I don't hold you to it at all. Do you believe me when I say that?"

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

Slowly, shakily, Carlos nodded. Yes, he did believe her. Because he had to.

Because he didn't have any other choice.

((This was cute, but it's beginning to get redundant. Shall we fade?))

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

((Sure.))

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

A certain easy to distinguish redhead was sitting in a comfortably smushy chair in the common room. In her hand, was something that hadn't made its appearance in a long time; her long and smooth wooden bow was back into the former huntress' hands. She was plucking at its string, listening to the soft twang that sounded much louder in the dull quiet of the room she was in. Rosemarie had sat there like that in that position for several hours, zoning in and out every half hour or so just simply out of boredom. Not that she didn't mind the boredom. A lot of things had happened recently, and it felt nice do there to be nothing going on for now.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

[...]

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

((wait who was here with her?))

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

[I thought this was Petra and Rosemarie.]

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

((Okie dokie~))

The younger of the whip twins actually found herself desiring company for once; what a concept, right? Petra usually relished in solitude, but today something in her just screamed for social contact. Be it a more negative part of her, or simply a sociable part, you couldn't tell. The brunette entered the room with her hair up high in a bun, which wasn't often seen on the girl. It was sort of just intended to stay out of her face. Sea-green eyes landed on the redhead, and Petra cocked her head to the side curiously as she plopped down across from Rosemarie. "Hello there," she said with the little smirk that frequented both her and her brother identically.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Rosemarie looked up, not surprised by the voice that had broken the silence (she had stopped strumming on the bow for a while now, she was beginning the feels of a callous on her finger). Her keen hearing had heard the footsteps that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else notified her of her new company. "Hello," she answered politely, looking at the younger twin with a slightly perplexed look on her face as she tried to match the face with a name. A whip girl, she knew, but the name she couldn't remember. If she didn't tell her, it would come to her.

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

The girl stretched a hand across the empty space. "I don't believe we've met; I'm Petra." The twin offered a crooked smile to the redhead before her. "And you are?"

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Another hand of white porcelain met the hand of the killer and shook it. "I don't believe we have, either. My name is Rosemarie." Her smile was polite, but tight, not quite reaching the eyes. There were only few people around who knew what others assumed; that smile was not her real smile. It was the smile she showed to everyone, though, so it was a lot like her real smile.

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Petra leaned back in the couch, the plush cushions engulfing her shoulders. For once, the twin seemed entirely harmless and safe, at peace. She nodded towards the bow, curiosity alight in her gaze. "You're into archery?"

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Now how could she answer that? There were probably several ways to do so, but she settled for the shortest way she could imagine rather than spare the young girl- who looked to be fairly friendly - the long story of her interest in archery. "Yes, plus it makes for a great weapon." A small, almost sly smirk at that last comment.

[Annie, Have no fear of perfection-- you'll never reach it.]

Petra smirked, and shrugged. "Long range, I'm sure, but it doesn't seem to do much help up close and personal." The brunette didn't argue her case, though, and she grinned a devilish grin. "I'm assuming you put it's weaponry excellence to good use, from your tone?"

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Rosemarie shrugged modestly, her gaze flicking to the smooth bow in her hand. "Well, I guess you'd say I do well because my long range is good and so is my short range." She tilted her head and looked back at Petra. "I mean, it obviously is useless really close, but for the fairly short range I do as fine as long range. Have you ever tried to shoot yourself?"

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Domonic had had a long day. He had been working shifts with all sorts of patients all day to pay off a fellow nurse for tidying up Cadenza's room for her when she had been in the midst of a panic attack. Now, he had some time to relax, and was relishing in it. He had another shift in about an hour, though, and he was feeling rather tired after the long day, and so the nurse had laid on the couch of the common room, dozing peacefully for about twenty minutes. It hadn't been a long nap, but it was certainly better than no sleep.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

"You do realize that you're in prime sharpie-sabotage position, right?" The voice--Carlos's of course--came from just next to Domonic's head, and were he to open his eyes he would see the Hispanic boy grinning down at him, the aforementioned sharpie in his left hand, the bag of marbles in his right. "Seriously, ese, what do you thinking you're doing? Me and my sharpie friend here are going to be the least of your worries if you keep this up."

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

[Italics. XD]

Domonic opened his eyes slightly at first, then all the way when he saw the sharpie in the patient's hand. "Hey, hey!" Domonic said, sitting up off the couch and waving him away with a good natured grin on his face. "Yo, hey, man, not cool!" Despite him looking annoyed, his voice was good natured enough for Carlos to not feel any remorse. "I have another shift in forty minutes. Do you know how stupid I'm gonna look walking around with a sharpie mustache on my face?" Although, now that he thought about it, maybe silly faces would bring happiness to some of the more depressed patients.

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

((I fixed it. XD))

Carlos laughed. "Don't knock moustaches, my friend. Practically everybody I knew before I came here had a moustache. They're cool if you know what you're doing." And because the boy was in a spectacularly good mood, he didn't even mind his own mentioning of Mexico--not even the beast could ruin his good spirits today. He plopped down on the couch beside the nurse, reclining back slightly so that he could murmur without being overheard: "And I wasn't going to draw a moustache, either. I was thinking something along the lines of a swastika. Devil on my shoulder, you know." He pulled back, chuckling, and shot Domonic a friendly wink: all the same, it was hard to tell whether he was actually joking or not.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Domonic's grin widened at the young boy's good humor. "I really hope you didn't. Good Lord, hand me a mirror!" But his smile stayed, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "I would find myself in some serious trouble if I start walking around with a swastika on my face. I actually rather like my job here, and would rather I not lose it because I let a patient use my face as a sketch book." Domonic rubbed his face, wondering if Carlos truly had drawn at him at all. He found no remains on his fingers, but that didn't mean that he hadn't been drawn on. Sharpie dried ridiculously fast. "You know," the nurse began with a regretting tone, "if you really did draw on my face, I would have to somehow get back at you for it. I don't know how I would, but I will."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) wrote: "Domonic's grin widened at the young boy's good humor. "I really hope you didn't. Good Lord, hand me a mirror!" But his smile stayed, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "I would find myself in s..."

Carlos returned the grin and every ounce of happiness in it. "Bad idea, hermano," he told Dom, laughing. "Because you're talking to the freaking prank master right here. You'd never be able to one-up me." He paused, then took Domonic's chin in one hand and tilted his head this way and that, as if searching for something out of the ordinary. "Nope. No swastika. Good thing, too. Have you seen all the dangerous minorities around here?" A smik with these words--the boy was obviously making fun of himself. Besides, he didn't know if St. Peter's had any other minorities--well, besides Raven (who was dangerous) and that girl with multiple personalities, Sam (who was not.) All the same, he figured it couldn't hurt to joke about it. "If you walk around with a swastika on your face, everyone's gonna think you drew it on yourself and then where would you be?" The grin widened, and Carlos chuckled. "Do you have any idea what would happen to you if somebody actually dangerous saw it?"

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

"I'd be in deep trouble," Domonic replied knowingly, rubbing his cheek again just to make sure that the patient wasn't pulling his leg. "If anyone saw anything like that on me, dangerous or otherwise, then that broken wrist I had a few months ago would look like a paler cut compared to what those people would do to me. Then I would have you to blame, and as much as I would want to sick those same people on you, they would probably not believe me and even if they did, would have wasted all of their energy on beating the crap out of me, and couldn't take it out on you." He moved his hands in a twirling motion. "So you see, I would have to take you one-on-one." He looked Carlos up and down, as if sizing the Hispanic up. "Maybe I could handle myself. Gladly, we won't have to find out for ourselves for risk of embarrassment."

[Hope , I belong here more than they do.]

((*sic))

"Thank God for small favors." At the mention of a fight--even a joking, hypothetical one--Carlos tensed, if only a little. Lord, what a sore spot that was! Especially now, after what had happened to Sera...quickly, he shook his head against the thoughts. Now was no time to be loosing control, not after things had been going so well. He decided to change the subject. "So, I'm a random kid with a sharpie and you're a nurse taking a nap on a couch--you got a name, couch-napper?" The cheerfulness in Carlos's words had dimmed, just a little, but he gave himself a mental pat on the back for trying to keep it up. Usually he wouldn't have even done that much.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), Life's a dance, you learn as you go.]

Domonic nodded, leaning back against the back of the couch with his hands laced behind the back of his head. "Yup. Yes I do, and thank god it isn't couch-napper. Horrid name, actually." He had noticed the slight tension with the boy, as it was his job to notice those things, but since Carlos had tried his best to shrug it off, the nurse decided to do the same. "My name is Domonic Taylor. May I ask who you are, guy-with-sharpie? I surely hope that really isn't your name. That would be embarassing, too."