In the Silence /*OPEN!

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

Tick, tick, tick. The clock was insanely loud, invading every millimeter of the room with its incessant sound. A dark-haired, pale-skinned teen sat in one of the chairs, his hand running angrily through his hair now and again. Why couldn’t the clock just be quiet? It wasn’t that hard. He was quiet. ‘I’m not going to let it bug me,’ he thought, though he knew it wouldn’t work long. Lashing out a clock for ticking would make him appear even more insane than he already did, and he was not

[/b] insane.

He’d just been dumped here by mistake, because his parents were stupid, unloving jerks. Well, not quite unloving, he corrected himself. They loved his dead older brother, Kai. They didn’t love him. He was nothing like Kai.

To start, he was alive. There were times he wished he wasn’t. But he didn’t think he truly wanted to die; he just wanted to end the pain. Biting his lip, he shifted in the chair. They were uncomfortable. Everything in this place was, which wasn’t all that surprising. That was life.

There wasn’t anything around to amuse the teen; nothing could hold his attention long, anyway. So he figured there was no point in trying to do something that would just be forgotten about anyway. Shifting again, the boy pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, letting his head fall back against the chair. His navy eyes stared blankly at a ceiling, trying to tune out the stupid ticking. It was driving him up the wall.[/color][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]

Tag’d;; Open~
Word Spewage;; 291
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Dark jeans, black tee, black oversized hoodie.
Scrawlings;; Woot, first post. Whoever wants to jump in, go ahead!
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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The warden hardly considered there to be much to do in this job. Maybe that was why some many on the staff harassed the "prisoners." At least, that was staff lingo, apparently. They were supposed to call them patients, but everyone knew the administration did care so long as no heavy reports could be filed. Hell, he could walk up to the skinny girl reading a book upside down in the corner and lay down the sexual innuendo without much besides her flushing and the other wardens calling him a simpleton for not taking it to the next step. Or for not choosing the cuter blond next to her.

Or he could go out on the grounds to the pitiful garden, and physically convince one of those dreamer types who wanted a pretty garden to plant one themselves. Shovels and all, he could reconstruct indirectly through near child labor. He could tell them that the garden would be prettier becuase they planted it themselves. But that was a lie. Maybe they would believe him, maybe he himself would believe it even.

Or he could lock some poor kid in for separation anxiety in one of the padded cells, then watch him freak out for sport. Call in lame demeaning remarks over the speaker system, find his best friend and put him on. Of maybe he could lock one of those poor beings who cut themselves, and yell obscenities and more lame moral remarks at how they were the dregs of society and watch them simmer.

Or he could shoot himself in the foot. Figuratively and literally.

In other words, he had nothing to do. He simply familiarized himself with the place, still uncertain where everything was, still easily lost after all his years in the military. Jason tugged at the shoulder of the warden uniform, eying it to be sure it was straight as he made to exit the lounge after his breif look in. But then his hazel irises caught one of the occupants, the way he shifted angrily, a repeating motion, as if something was wrong. Jason thought for a moment wondering. And then he had it. Roughly. The boy flinched at a set temp of sixty ticks per minute, one per second. He glanced at his watch and the second hand that would have been making an annoying ticking noise. That is, would have if he wasn't deaf.

Jason decided to actually enter the room then, awkwardly approaching the boy, a little stand-offish like he was with all forms of the male gender. But he didn't go to him so much as he went to grab an empty chair next to him, slide it over to the walk with the clock, and jump on it. Reaching up, it was a simply task of pulling the clock from the wall, flipping it over and removing the battery.

"Sometimes," he said, tone and accent distant, not really directional, "I'm glad I don't hear things anymore." There was so much he was glad he never had to deal with. So much wrong that when with sounds. Mostly distractions. Jason found he could lead a life of far better direction, far better personal input, without his hearing. The world was so much simpler, so much rougher. And he was glad to know he liked it that way. At this point, he remembered he should probably get off the chair...

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 570
Date: 9/12/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Simple
Notes: I like your character. After just that post. No clue why.

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

Someone else came into the room. Jaw still set, the clock still ticking, Dareynn closed his eyes tight. Now there was another annoyance, another cadence of sound to bring around his anger. Step, step. Couldn’t the guy walk quieter? Though Dareynn would never say anything. “The guy” was in a uniform—he’d seen that much before closing his eyes. He didn’t feel like getting a beating right now; the noises were enough to annoy him. Things weren’t always this loud. Oh, no, that would be chaos. But just sometimes, usually only when he was having a relatively good day. The noises came and ruined his precious silence.

The insanely loud screech of a chair being dragged across the floor made the boy’s navy eyes pop open, scowling at the man. Couldn’t he just shut up? Then he was climbing onto the chair, taking the stupid clock off the wall. Stopping the ticking. It was quiet for a few precious moments, then the uniformed guy spoke. Couldn’t hear, yada yada. White noise in the teen’s brain. It hurt, was too loud.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, snapping, ”Shut up.” It was more cruel than he’d meant it to be, though he couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased with the viciousness of it. Then what the guy had told him clicked. Couldn’t hear.

He was deaf.

So he hadn’t heard the snapped comment. Damn. How could he stand not hearing? Sometimes, sound was good. When it was music. Music was comforting; it gave him an escape, a place to go that wasn’t padded and didn’t have restraints. It was free.

Lifting his chin, Dareynn forced his jaw to unclench, trying to get rid of his anger. The guy was still on the chair, which didn’t surprise the teen, since he hadn’t heard him step down. He didn’t know if the guy could read lips or not, so maybe anything he said would be lost on him. He almost wanted to thank the man for stopping the stupid ticking. It had reduced his headache ever so slightly, the anger that had been running through his veins simply dissolving. He was used to the quick emotion changes; he knew it wasn’t “normal.” But it was what his body did. He’d get really angry at something—like the clock. He yelled when he got mad. After that he’d be so quiet people would forget he was in the room. He was like that most of the time. Withdrawn, his parents had said.

Ha, like they had cared. Fucking Kai, being the perfect son. Hadn’t even given him a chance. He was doomed for failure from day one, the very moment he was conceived. But nothing was fair, and just the fact that he was in the Blue River Institution proved that. He was not insane, and there was no reason for him to be here. Other than that his parents hadn’t wanted to look at him. Failure. That’s all he was, all he’d ever be. End of story.

Lowering his eyes from the deaf man’s face, he muttered, ”Thanks.” Who cared if the guy couldn’t hear? He said it.

Tag’d;; Jason Laurence Sharpe
Word Spewage;; 555
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Dark jeans, black tee, black oversized hoodie.
Scrawlings;; Thank you! Jason’s fun, too. Poor guy, can’t hear. T_T I’d go nuts. (Well. Maybe not. I’m kinda like Dare. Little noises drive me up the wall. >.>)
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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His abilities being what they were, he couldn't quite read what the teen had said. Or yelled, it looked like. It looked like a number of phrases from the slight bit he'd caught, but after thinking it through, he figured it was probably an expletive. Or at least an unpleasant snap. He shrugged, still motionless on the chair, knowing he'd been a noisy oaf, moving the chair, but it hadn't registered then. Eh, he'd only read one part of the boy's misery right, so someone could go beat him. Well, that wouldn't happen, but figure of speech. Sort of.

Slipping th clock back onto the hook it perched on and sliding the AA batteries into a pocket, he lowered himself slowly into the chair, trying - and of course failing, for how was he to know - to be as silent as possible. It felt like the cushion creaked when it took his shift of weight and it felt like his feet hit the ground with a little more force than the term soft could include, but he manage the transition to his satisfaction, at least. And glancing up at the teenager, arms wrapped around him, he was glad he'd taken care with the move. The boy, even with his unclear "Thank you," muddle by indistinct articulation, seemed to be having problems with sounds in general at the moment. Headache, possibly, but maybe they just bothered him in general.

"Just because I'm deaf," Jason whispered, the lack of used vocal chords making his speech a little fuzzy, making it harder for him to know what exactly came out of his mouth. And harder for the teen to understand likely, with his British accent added on top. "Doesn't mean I can't understand English when I see it." He smiled, wondering if the boy had ever heard the phrase used with that final verb. "See" English... Even to him it carried a weird notion. Of course, it was true, though whether any teacher would humor him he didn't know.

He lifted his feet onto the chair and proceeded to untie the military boots wordlessly.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 352
Date: 9/13/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Happy but Tired
Notes: Okay, I like Dare even more now. His antics are amusing. Jason will hate him for it but oh, well... ^^

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

Dareynn fought the urge not to grimace as the guy hit the floor in a not-so-soft manner. The stupid wardens were never quiet, they yelled and they hit him, and they were mean. Almost as mean as his parents. But nobody could best the two that had supposedly conceived him; they were just that bad.

At least he’d taken down the wretched clock. That was probably the nicest thing anybody had done for him in…forever. And even if he was hard to understand, he wasn’t yelling. Remotely quiet, that’s what he was. Sort of. But the headache was lessening now without the stupid tick, tick, tick invading every thought the dark-haired teen had.

He watched the man silently as he began to untie the laces of his shoes—for what reason Dareynn couldn’t even guess, but, hey, if he wanted to…there wasn’t much he could do to stop him, was there? No. He was just another “insane” pris—no, not prisoner. At least, that’s what they said. The people that made him take pills and sit through horrible therapy sessions. He was a “patient.” Supposedly. But it didn’t really seem like anyone cared if he got better or not. His parents didn’t. They had enough money to keep him in this place for the rest of his life if they really wanted to.

Or they could just let him rot away and die somewhere. That was always an option.

But either way, he was confused as to how he should respond to the man. If he tried to be nice, the guy would more than likely just laugh. But if he got mad again, he’d get sent to the isolation rooms. Not that being in there really bothered him; it was quiet.

Until, of course, wardens started talking to him through the damn speakers. Then his head would ache because of the echo and he’d yell at them to knock it off. But they never listened, of course. He knew they wouldn’t. He just screamed and screamed, sometimes so much that he’d go hoarse. It didn’t take much for him to lose his voice, really; he rarely spoke other than when he got angry, and most of that was all screaming. So half the time he was left voiceless anyway. Made things easier. He didn’t have to answer stupid questions from the stupid therapist.

Like when she asked about the scratches on his arms. She knew where they came from, why did she bother asking? It wasn’t like she was an idiot. If she was, Blue River wouldn’t have hired her. At least, that’s what Dareynn hoped.

His tongue skimmed nervously across his lips, ghosting over the cool metal of his snakebites. Half the time he forgot they were there, he was so used to them. Finally he decided he might as well say something, try to figure out what the guy was like. When the man looked at him, he said, ”Who are you?” His voice was slightly uneasy, though the man wouldn’t know that. He couldn’t hear. But hopefully he could understand what Dareynn had said—the boy tended to not move his mouth much when he spoke, mumbling incoherent phrases now and again when he absolutely had to speak. He hadn’t voluntarily talked to anyone in quite a while.

Tag’d;; Jason
Word Spewage;;
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Jeans, tee shirt, hoodie, sneakers
Scrawlings;; Sorry it took so long. X.x I had to work after I got out of school today.
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hated when people simply stared at him. The feeling of having missed something, of having misread words someone had said or misunderstood the way they'd said it nagged at him in those moments of intense emptiness. Nothing moved, nothing vibrated, nothing gave him a sense of being connected to the world, as if everything was invisible except for the chair he sat in. He wanted to move, to tap his fingers against something to feel the vibration, to feel he was there and not just watching a lame sitcom.

But it was simple courtesy to remain still; the teen had wanted silence for some reason and drumming his fingers wouldn't be helpful, so after finishing with his mysterious mission of untying and taking off his heavy boots, he shifted around faintly, running his hand along the arm, or moving his foot, or playing with his watch strap, or just fidgeting, trying to force himself still for the sake of silence that always seemed impossible and vain to him. He finally managed to settle on playing with the end of his sleeve, the soft fabric too muted to be much useful in producing substantial sound waves.

The reason why he was making an effort at pointless silence finally seemed to come to the decision to speak to him, seeing as he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Jason tried to judge what he was thinking, tried to understand what yet another "prisoner" had gotten locked up for. It was clear the kid wasn't social. A loner. Distant from people, little friends. Traits that reflected poor family life. Traits that reflected having been ignored by enough people that one begins to consider themselves invisible, worthless. The warden filed the guess away for later. He wanted to find out about as many people here as possible. If his previous acquaintances here were any indication, some of the teens here were rather remarkable.

Jason grimaced as the boy muttered something. And it was obviously muttering, the way his lips barely moved and his pronunciation came across as fuzzy and indistinct. He sighed, giving up after a wordless moment of trying to make something that looked like "where" make any sense in a conversation. "If you want, you can just mouth words. You don't have to talk at all..." Cheeks turned a little red at the request, as if it was an admission of personal failure. He meant for the kid to mouth them as if he was talking at an above library level, one where he could actually piece things together. "Please? My names Jason, by the way," added basic information to make it a little less awkward.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 441
Date: 9/15/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Humored
Notes: No worries, I'm typically slow myself...

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

The man was almost frustrating; how could he stand going from day to day without hearing? Then again, the teen wasn’t helping much with his mumbling. When he introduced himself—finally—as Jason, Dareynn nodded.

The man’s suggestion to simply mouth words was odd, and the dark-haired teen figured it would feel odder than simply talking like a normal, sane person. Which he was, of course. He just didn’t like to talk. There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. He inclined his head slightly, the more polite side of him wanting to introduce himself as well. After a short, silent inner debate, he said—quietly, but actually opening his mouth, “I’m Dareynn.” He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to ask the man what it was like not to hear. It’d be nice, sometimes, but torture for the rest of it. He’d get paranoid, not being able to hear if someone was sneaking up behind him or if someone was talking to him.

Before he realized it, his mouth was opening, beginning to form the words of the question. Forcing himself to stop at the last possible second, he licked his lips instead so he didn’t look like a gaping fish. Fish were so stupid. All they did was swim around, circles and circles. They didn’t even have good memories, so they weren’t even aware they were simply swimming in a circle. Stupid fish.

“Why are you here?” he asked, though it was probably a stupider question than the one he’d previously thought of. Oh well. Too late now, wasn’t it?

Tag’d;; Jason Laurence Sharpe
Word Spewage;;
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Dark jeans, tee, sneakers
Scrawlings;; Short. XP Stupid Dare, being a pain.
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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'Dareynn' was a weird name. Original, more imaginative than Jason, of course, he couldn't begrudge it that, but it was something that parents wished they had the audacity to name their child, not something they actually did. It reminded him of a comic book hero, or something. He smiled, signed a 'Nice to meet you,' and then dubbed over it with a verbal copy. "Pleasure to meet you, Dareynn." He didn't attempt spelling out the name; too many variations. He though something like Darian, but figured it best to skip it.

Jason rolled his eyes jokingly at the boy's question, knowing hadn't been his first choice of topic starters. If he was forced to guess, the warden would have bet money that the boy had wanted to ask about him being deaf. What it was like. At least, the "what" part had been readable in slow motion on his lips, but then he'd stopped, mouth flapping in one of the million ways that just made no sense to him anymore than it did to the next guy. And he lived to make lip movements make sense. "I work here." was the flat reply that he only ruined a little with his smiling eyes. It was easy enough to keep a straight face, however; guys, of any age, were not people he was comfortable around. Distance was a safe, cozy factor for him.

He knew he should answer the question as the boy really meant it, but then, there were so many ways to interpret, especially without tone or word emphasis. Shrugging, he decided to forgo that aimless, faint topic and shoot for something more beneficial, even if he hated the idea. "It's sort of like watching a rainstorm from inside. You feel the thunder instead of hear it. You see the lightning instead of hear it." Jason grimaced, tone still soft, as if he was in a library, but he tried to articulate everything clearly through his accent and never being able to hear himself. "It's not so bad. I feel a lot more stuff through my feet, loud noises, heavy footsteps, musical beats, even some people."

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 358
Date: 9/17/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Bouncy
Notes: >< shortness...ah well, I still like it well enough

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

Dareynn frowned when the man signed something, proceeding to pronounce his name wrong. He hated when people called him Darien. ”It’s ‘Darren,’” he snapped, one foot smacking down on the floor indignantly. It was like his parents had played some kind of cruel joke on him, naming him Darren Payne. Then they went and screwed up the spelling of it. D-a-r-e-y-n-n. Stupid parents, couldn’t do anything right.

Eyes narrowing slightly when Jason rolled his eyes, the dark-haired teen decided that he’d just wait for an answer. The answer he got wasn’t the one he had anticipated. Before he really thought about it, he said, ”No shit. Never would’ve guessed, even though you’re wearing a uniform.”

Biting down on his lip, Dareynn made himself be quiet. Yelling at this guy was rather pointless, considering he couldn’t hear. How stupid—and insane—would he seem, yelling at a deaf man? Before he had to do something stupid like apologize, Jason continued talking. It took the teen a moment to realize what he was talking about, then he mentioned sounds.

”You can’t hear lightning,” he informed the man, his gaze going up to the ceiling. There were so many cracks and designs in it; he could almost make out a face, and a heart, and—NO. He wouldn’t let his attention wander. He was focused. He was paying attention. Not staring off into space like a moron.

He looked back at the man, determined to not look like every other insane teenager in this place. He was not insane. That was the end of it. No discussion on the subject, there was no other answer. ”I shouldn’t be here,” he found himself saying, his mouth moving without his consent. ”I’m not insane.”

Tag’d;; Jason
Word Spewage;; 329
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Jeans, tee, sneakers
Scrawlings;; Sorry it took so long. XP And yeah, his name is pronounced "Darren."
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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Jason winced. "Right. Sorry, sorry," He'd never been good with names. So many of them with so many ways to say them and he just had to sit there and guess. It was hard, trying to read the sounds of names he'd never come across, but watching the teens lips closer the second time around, especially since he yelled it and therefore articulated a bit heavier, he thought he could see where he'd misread it. Dar-en. Okay, that wasn't so bad. He'd just added an extra syllable. Shit happens in translation. Of course, he felt bad, but the boy hadn't really needed to scream at him. Number one, it wasn't the end of the world, to use a cliche that was annoying at best, and Number Two, it was vain. "Yeah sure, yell at the deaf guy, he might hear you."

It was amusing, in a round-about way. The warden shifted awkwardly, then remembered the teenager despising noise, so he stopped. then he remembered the teenager screaming. Hypocrite. Again with the off-color remarks about the guy who could throw you in an insulated cell for the slightest reason. Splendid ideas this kids seemed to have. "Really? Must be blind now too, huh?" That too came out as off color and he knew it, but the imeadiate second thought was that obviously this boy had problems and he wasn't helping. So he forced himself to laugh at the words. Which wasn't that hard, sadly. "You can too hear lightning, s'long as you're close enough." It was a conspiratorial tone, as if he would hate it to become common knowledge that he'd almost been struck by lightning. Which was childish, he knew, but hell, so was the other guy.

Of course, he had to agree with the sanity commentary. When Jaz thought of crazy, insane-asylum people, he though of completely off the wall. Far as this kid was concerned, he was a normal get-every-thing-you-want teen with mood swings and a inclination to get headaches. But him on drugs for the headaches and and teach him some manners, and kick him out into the real world where his little-prince-complex would rot with life experiences. Save the state some money. Of course, voicing this was probably a bad idea. So he didn't. "I believe you. I'm probably more insane than half the people here..." He wasn't certain it was a lie. Not an outright one.

[/color][/right][/size][/font]

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 401
Date: 9/19/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Stupid
Notes: Somehow, I feel like an idiot...

[dareynn cain payne]

So STAY AWAY from me

The beast is UGLY

[/font]

Seeing the man wince, Dareynn felt bad. He shouldn’t have yelled. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he said his name wrong. He couldn’t hear. Eyes falling to the floor, the boy said, “I’m sorry.” His shoulders hunched slightly, the almost-perfect picture of a remorseful child.

Frowning when the guy made a sarcastic comment about his pointing out Jason was wearing a uniform, Dareynn forced himself not to snap back. His stupid, annoying therapist would only lecture him on proper etiquette and manners if she heard about it. “Be nice to the wardens, they only want to help you.” Or something stupid like that. Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. “Who’d be close enough to lightning to hear it? They’d probably die.” Dareynn blinked, almost wanting the man to contradict him. Tell him some story about someone he knew that had been struck by lightning. It’d be neat to know someone that had survived that. It’d make him feel a little better, knowing someone had suffered worse than he had. That they lived through it.

“They don’t believe me. The doctor keeps telling me I’m bipolar. I’m not. A person has the right to change moods. That doesn’t make me insane.” Face contorting into a frown, the teenager wrapped his arms around his torso and turned his head, staring at the floor once again. He hated this place.

Tag’d;; Jason
Word Spewage;;
Verses;; “Monster” by Skillet
Coverings;; Dark jeans, black tee, sneakers
Scrawlings;; I’m sorry. X.x I’ve had little muse and my college class is kicking my butt. –falls over dead–

And it's okay. ^^ Jason's mess up just gave me something for Dareynn to do. =D
© Cujo;;

[jason laurence sharpe]

JUST WAIT ON THE STREET WITH YOUR ENDLESS WORDS
LOST FOREVER IN THE OCEAN OF FORGETFUL NOISE
SOMETIMES, EVERYONE CARES, BUT CAN'T HEAR

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The apology didn't help defuse the situation at all, as far as Jason was concerned. It wasn't Dareynn's fault Jason couldn't hear. It was his own fault. So the teen could forget trying to apologize for a problem that he could never fix and had no need to. So the warden merely ended up grumpier. He wondered for a moment why he was even trying to talk to this kid who clearly found him very un-interesting. So nice.

He leaned backward, intent on remaining in his chair for as long as possible, decent conversation or no. Patrolling required all too much walking in his book. Gazing up at the ceiling in this place, Jason decided it was perhaps one of the better enduring rooms. At least it was yet to be pulled into the "Great Dust Bunny War" Bella had brought to mind. She'd probably disagree with him there though; women had a higher standard of cleanliness than men. The warden crossed his arms beneath his neck and propped up his head.

"You've never heard stories of people struck by lightning? Or almost struck by lightning?" He smiled, an action largely lost on the ceiling he was staring at. Dareynn needed to get out more. "Doesn't happen often, I admit, but there are a lot of people. Back when I was still in high school, I was driving home from work late during perhaps the darkest storm that season." And the story continued, laced with his Londoner accent that always got heavier the longer he spoke at one time, less concentration on being understandable to Americans and more on correct words. "My truck had a CB antenna and while I drove across an overpass, a lightning bolt struck the antenna and travels through the car. Made the biggest crack when it hit."

Then he blushed faintly. "The car jerked so much and bumped into the guard rail I thought I'd been rear ended, especially since the engine stalled. Didn't even think about why I felt all twitchy until the paramedics booked me and the police found the scorched antenna and where the energy would have exited my car on the guard rail." The only thought he'd had at the time was that he hadn't known those were made of real metal. Thank God.

Jason looked back down at the teen, pursing his lips. Hate this place. Well, he seemed very in control for someone who seemed to hate this place more that he wanted to live a normal life. The teens here were going about getting out all wrong. They couldn't just proclaim war and expect the staff to give in. He could get bonuses for doing crazy stuff such as preventing a patient from running about with sharp objects. And if he wanted a bonus badly enough...well, so did everyone else. He really had nothing to tell Dareynn. Nothing that could be taken in any polite manner, at least. "Live through this place," he gritted. "Then tell me afterward that you hate it; it might mean something."

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 511
Date: 9/27/10
Cabinet: Patient's Lounge
Inquirer: Payne, Dareynn
Status: Public
Alarm: Sleepy
Notes: Sorry for taking so long to reply...