.caged

Well you can always talk to me, love, if you need it. 

You just… get used to it? Like.. sudden outbursts and shit? That happens? [A million questions come pouring out of Kat’s mouth as soon as he answers, her curiosity easily getting the best of the outspoken girl. Plus, it could kind of have something to do with her and her typical ‘outbursts’. Was there others here just like her?]

Well, I don't know about outbursts, persay... [he thinks, however, fleetingly on Jason's attempted escape. Bailey's fire. London's revenge. Those had certainly been outbursts. But not quite in the realm of what Derrick had been talking about so he believes it better left unsaid.] It's just that sometimes the halls are dead quite, people keeping to themselves and whatnot, other times there's an influx of new patients or just a rush of energy. Just... [he shrugs] waves. 

Ya still could have gone down there and confronted him but ya didn’t. So shut up and swallow my compliment, [Jay smirked, quickly realizing how dirty and sounded and chuckled] 

[He laughs] Alright, alright. Blimey, forceful little bugger, yeah? 

I didn’t like it. [he quirks an almost uninterested eyebrow, looking away, glancing to his side] 

[He smirks, and bites back the retort—something about pretty little moans and eager gasps saying otherwise—because it was a long time ago and it had been fleeting, anyhow. And there'd been so much pain between them at the time, that the important thing to be salvaged from that eventful day in the stairwell is the nature of their bond, not the mild arousal of pent up curiosity and aggression.]

The lights are out.

-Syd was enjoying this weather: the way the clouds harbored over the island, creating a wind that swept up the fallen leaves and bits of dirt. He was watching from his window, his room a mess due to lack of concern towards cleaning it. Papers strewn and the bed undone because at first he debated upon taking a nap. Now he preferred to watch for the rain to make its starting drop -

[Derrick likes the way Syd folds so easily under his hands, warm and malleable to his touch. He chuckles at the comment, pulling away from his neck to turn him around  in his arms to face him.] Pussy shite? [A raise brow and another laugh] Well if it starts pissin' when we're out there, the only way you'll keep me out is if ya let me shag ya all wet and such behind a tree. [He smirks, taking his hand and gently tugging it towards the door.]

[Neil wants to choke on the other’s words, but he honestly can’t afford to anymore. Still the images that flood his mind of red hair and blood, blood, too much blood (and poppies, and sunflowers, and concrete, and elephantine faces, until he can’t see straight anymore, as if he ever could.) — are unavoidable. So maybe his hands clench at his sides. Maybe his jaw locks. Maybe his vision swims in that oh-so-familiar, oh-so-constant reminder that he got out alive and she didn’t. He wants to stop breathing, like maybe every breath he’s taken can be exchanged for just a few more of hers. Enough for him to tell her he’s sorry. It’s not like he isn’t already holding his breath.]

[There's a noticeable stiffness that develops in the man's face and stance and Derrick knows he's struck a chord. He wants to ask but he's not sure if he should.] 

No, that’s the point. It is a virus. Nastier than the flu. See, I almost just called you mate. I gotta start wearing surgical masks.

[He bursts out laughing] Maybe you should. It'll add to the creep factor 110 percent. You could terrify the newbs in all new ways.

Name’s Kat. [She juts her hand out as a form of greeting, not really sure how to go about introducing herself. A smile crept across her face as she thought of introductions in an asylum. It could be a standard— name, age, disorder, reason for admittance. She thought they should hand out nametags that told you how dangerous everyone was. Like hers would read: Kat Kennedy, I.E.D., with the word ‘caution, level 2’ plastered in big letters above it. It was a funny thought, but it made her curious. Was this guy dangerous too, being up here on level two? Had he hurt people too? But she didn’t ask.] 

Pleasure, Kat. [He grins gently. She seems guarded, somewhat stoic and serious. But really, what were first impressions worth in a place like this? Not much.]

Thanks. [Jade smiles at Derrick; the two talk less often than she’d like, being busy with their strict schedules and personal lives, but when they do she feels like he understands her. He was the first person who was kind to her in Belv, and no matter where they left off, they always clicked in an inexplicable way. Which is why, after his assurance that her confession would be in confidence, Jade asks him something she’s been too afraid to ask herself.] I know you’re happy with Oliver, and how upset you were when he left… And I know you’re happy with Syd, too, but…

I... [The question makes him swallow a bit, because it comes with the surfacing of things he's been asking himself for ages.] I think... that... it's about a balance, maybe. Two wrongs don't make a right, and I think me being with someone who was just like me, would be a disaster waiting to happen. Oliver was... perfect to me. And I did sorta see him like an angel, you know? I still do... and I wasn't able to be... well, I was always on edge, with him. I had a hard time accepting myself and... finding a way to not be constantly afraid of snapping him. He was too vulnerable in my eyes... He hated that, but I'll admit I had a hard time not seeing it that way.

[Jay chuckled] Be glad you don’t have to take ‘em. Jesus they’re tough. I had to cut back my hours around here just so that I can focus. 

Oh, I'm plenty glad, mate, don't have to tell me twice. [A smirk]

Huh. That's quite true, I suppose. Touche.

[Kat heard someone approach, but refused to turn to look at them.  She felt nervous enough as it was— mainly due to the fact that she was surrounded with new things, new people, new everything— and it was a bit overwhelming.] How much farther? [She muttered, a tinge of impatience in her voice, her eyes finally rising to meet his.]

[Okay, so not the warmest of responses, but he tries to give her the benefit of the doubt.] Just... four doors, about. Like, forty paces? [He offers her a weak grin, falling into step beside her and making to show her the way.]