Just Like Standing [open]

[isabella rose xavier]

i CAN feel the PRESSURE !

its GETTING closer NOW !

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Isabella smirked lightly as she referred to the dust and seen that he mentally made a note about the filth of the place that should be clean and sanitary.

"Its attack of the cannibalistic dust bunnies around here. Its far from clean. Smoke will not hurt this place. It may set of the sprinklers if this place even has any. But a bit of water won't hurt this place. It needs a cleaning."

She turned and sat sideways in the chair leaning against the arm of it with her feet going across the other arm and sitting on the cushion of the seat next to her as she cracked her knuckles randomly. But the smile on her face fell a bit,

Stop hiding her scars? She wasn't hiding them. Well there were a few she hid - but thats because they were covered by her clothes. To not hide her scars she'd be running around naked - or close to it. Not only were her arms covered in them her legs were in some places and she had a few amongst her sides and stomach as well.

"Yeah, I don't hide them - There are some I do hide but thats unavoidable. To not hide them would mean me walking and running around completely starkers or close to it.... Majority of them I do not hide though. If I were hiding them I would be wearing long sleeves right now to cover what is being shown."

She looked down briefly wondering why he thought she was hiding them - She wasn't ashamed of anything not her actions or who she was although she did wish she was somewhat normal even though there was no definition of normal. That was about the only thing she felt ashamed about that she was locked up here instead of being a normal teenager running around with friends and doing other teenager-y things someone her age should be doing. That and she sometimes felt ashamed of how she just started ignoring her father but she always shoved the shame she felt about that quickly away.

Then again no one was completely proud of themselves. There was always something everyone was ashamed of. Unless they were a complete narcissist. Scratching her shoulder she looked at him,

"Why do you think I am hiding my scars?"

She asked. Was it something she did subconsciously without realizing she done it, something that showed in her eyes, her body language? Or perhaps she was ashamed of it and was so accustom to the scars she over looked it entirely. She didn't know. Isabella honestly didn't know.

Sometimes she felt she didn't even truly know herself anymore. Which was a completely possibility - How could you come to some kind of understanding of yourself surrounded by people with problems like or worse than yours and people telling you you were crazy or insane when they were no different.

Isabella wondered why people came to the conclusion they were sane but some other person was crazy - No one was sane anymore. Just like no one was normal. It all came down to the same thing right? Maybe it was because of people like that, that she still was like she was when she was first locked up, only a few times worse.

Then again maybe it was all her own fault and she was made to be a total fucked up person and live the rest of her life locked up like an animal. Her mind was buzzing now with thoughts. The cogs in her head spinning at an insane pace. A headache already forming in the back of her head from the million of thoughts that ran through her head.

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

wordCOUNT:: 621
currentMOOD:: bored
currentSONG:: mordreds lullaby - heather dale
characterOUTFIT:: click here
taggedFOR:: jason, open
writersCOMMENTS:: n.a

[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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Cannibalistic dust bunnies. Now that was something you didn't read off someone's lips every day. It made him smile a little, just at the image it conjured in his head. "But if it's that dusty, it's dry. And hot ashes don't mix..." Pointless. Though sprinklers didn't sound like a bad idea. He'd been wanting it to rain for a while now... He consigned the idea to cannon fodder. Not a good thing to do so soon after getting hired. But sometime...

He fidgeted, obviously not having made himself clear. Typical of him, really. "I mean, well, mentally, I guess." He put his hands to his back, pointlessly trying to straighten his shirt without any real need to but to keep his hands busy. "You just sound like you don't talk about it much, that shit you told me...and then there's you're dad..." Touchy subject alarm blared in his head, as it always would mentioning father figures, whether the partner in the conversation felt the same way or not. Hell, he understood hating a guy, but to just...stop talking to him... Jason shivered inwardly at the thought; she was acting just like his father had acted to him. No contact, no words, no love, no care, no money, no trust, no life. Distant. Gone. She needed to fix that. Her father needed to fix that.

He found himself blushing. "Prob'ly not the first time you've heard that. Forget it. I always was a nosy father-figure of a brother..." He grimaced, knowing he was being a lousy excuse for a just determined, hesitate friend. Good job making her feel comfortable.

The wall was cold on his back, and he shifted again, not really comfortable. Never really comfortable. The strain of using his legs to hold himself against the wall was slowly creeping up to him, the numb warmth seeping into that familiar place behind his left knee. Flexing it, the pain vanished momentarily, then returned when he resumed his casual lean. Early, that was good. A good walk would definitely clear that before any major joint issues began anew from that cursed shrapnel wound in the cursed jeep. Thank God he was presumed unqualified to drive a car anymore; he doubted he had enough guts to get behind the wheel of one. It wouldn't surprise him if he would have flash backs like that if he could find the courage. They label it post-traumatic stress disorder and throw him in a place like this with all his other technicalities. Insanity indeed. More like typical human to him. If people like him were allowed to walk the streets and vote for President, why couldn't half of these teens?

Standing, he leaned forward and stretched his fingers toward his toes, still surprisingly flexible enough to brush them together. It was a stretch his physician had actually forbidden him to do, but hell if Jason cared. It felt good to pull the muscles a little. Glancing up, he shot Bella an inviting look, "Want to walk, Bella? Feels like it's raining out there..." He gestured at the roof, metal probably on the outside, implying he could feel the vibration from the roof. So it was either drizzling, or something was wrong with yet another section of the facility. He wondered if she could hear anything. Wondered again what rain was supposed to sound like. Screw this nostalgia.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 564
Date: 9/20/10
Cabinet: Hospital
Inquirer: Xavier, Isabella
Status: Public
Alarm: Satisfied
Notes: N/A

[isabella rose xavier]

i CAN feel the PRESSURE !

its GETTING closer NOW !

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Isabella tapped her fingers together. Unsure of what was to come next. She looked at her lap but looked back up at Jason and adjusted her beanie that had fallen down onto her forehead when she looked down. Her face fell slightly and she spoke softly. Not like it mattered how low she spoke, because he couldn't hear obviously. Only thing that was necessary was for her to look at him when she spoke.

"I don't talk about it at all. Staff have never really gotten more then a sentence out of me before I flip out on them...Except for you, and as far as other patients go. I've never been much for socialization. Your the only person I have spoke to before without either blowing a fuse at or just walking away from."

Sighing she ran her hands over her face. She could hear a soft pitter patter somewhere. Whether it was rain or a leak somewhere she didn't know. Looking at him she thought for a moment and gave a nod. Standing she cracked her neck, the cogs in her head still turning.

" Its not the first time I've heard that either. I feel like he tossed me here because he didn't want to deal with me anymore. Just so he could go back to being big tough marine without having to worry about me. Sometimes it does get to me that I just pretty much kicked him to the curb in very sense but I can't help but feel he did the same to me so I never try to mend things with him. Why would he want me anyways? I'm a mental fuck up."

She played with her necklace idly as she began walking down the hall idly with him. A walk would be nice it was getting stuffy in the building, and a bit cramped feeling. Some fresh air would also be nice next to the dust filled air of the asylum.

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

wordCOUNT:: 328
currentMOOD:: bored
currentSONG:: mine - taylor swift
characterOUTFIT:: click here
taggedFOR:: jason, open
writersCOMMENTS:: sorry its short.

[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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She kept making the conscious decision to turn her head and face him when she spoke, now that she new. Not that it made him feel any better. He'd always found it sort of insulting, in a round-about, not-anyone's-fault sort of way. Every time someone spoke and they knew, really knew him, they'd face him head on, shift themselves to his comfort, for his "ease." He could understand a lot in profile (which admittedly was an embellished truth). But at least she didn't make a show of it, like some people, as if they had to advertise to the public and their friends that they were helping the guy with a disability. He felt inclined to tell them to piss off in no uncertain terms. It was his problem, he could deal with it. They could live with the unfortunate ability to hear, he could live without it just as well.

"You're startin' to make me sound like something special," he toned down flippantly, watching the way she looked at him when she spoke, using peripheral vision and guesswork to key into her words. "Keep it up, and I...might believe you?" Jason drawled, clipping his accent, blurring statement into question, raising an eyebrow as they walked. He didn't think of himself as easy to talk to. Friendly enough sure, on a good day. But he was usually the lame, slow to grasp and unlikely to care type. Focusing too much on his own problems and what he wanted. Unless you were family, life didn't have room for your wants and needs. Usually.

The limp wasn't visible, but he could feel it catch just a bit as they started off. 'Course, after a few steps, even he was beginning to have difficulty deciding if it had been his imagination. Brushing the now pointless thought away, he glanced back at Bella, at the scars and red hair and beanie hat. She was adorable. He smiled, shook away the thoughts of his sisters. Thanked God they weren't stuck in a place like this. Hoped to God Bella could find a way out. "Mental is better than physical," he snorted, not caring how one-sided the opinion was, based solely on the nature of his physical addiction to nicotine. "As for why he should want you..." Jaz shrugged. He didn't know anything good about fathers. But that didn't prevent him for trying to think of good things. It was only harder becuase he could only explain why he wanted his sisters around, why he'd looked after them. "I guess, well, I guess because you're smart. You know...you're messed up. And because you're sweet. Provided you behave in front of him anything like you are in front of me."

"Of course, some fathers just don't know how to deal with having children. They can't handle it, they aren't prepared. So they leave. And hopefully, they leave because they know someone else will raise their kids better than they would have." So Jason kept telling himself.

He paused at a floor to ceiling glass door, surrounded by plates and panes of glass framed in silver coated sheet metal. The spatter of rain drops brushed just faintly sideways against the glass. He smiled, placed his hand against the glass and suddenly a world of rhythm burst to life under his palm. The sharp, accented taps of water on glass, the shivering mini-earthquake of the pane as a gust of wind hit home. It was almost like music, to see and feel the random pattern of the rain. He glanced down at Bella, then pressed the door open. "Come on," he encouraged softly, stepping out into the drizzle.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 600
Date: 9/22/10
Cabinet: Hospital
Inquirer: Xavier, Isabella
Status: Public
Alarm: Excited
Notes: Kid in a candy store look... lol

[isabella rose xavier]

i CAN feel the PRESSURE !

its GETTING closer NOW !

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Isabella looked at him as they walked, reaching the glass doors that lead out to the grounds that surrounded the building she walked out ahead of him the soft rain making little round patterns on her shirt, a few droplets appearing on her skin as she looked up at the sky. Wiping them away as she looked back down she spoke,

"Well there is something about you other wise I am sure I would have walked away or screamed at you by now. Like I do with everyone else that works around here."

Tucking a strand of hair that fell into her face from the confines of the beanie she pushed it behind her ear and began twirling the rose and vine ring she wore around her finger, pulling it off and twirling it around her finger before placing it back on and repeating the process,

"Well I don't know what my dad thinks of me. I don't even really care....OK thats half a lie. I do care, just not enough to call up and be all chit chatty friendly with him like none of this ever happened before asking, 'Oh dad, by the way whats your view point on me, your terribly fucked up daughter?' I don't thing that would go very well so I'll just not try and regain communication with him. Even if I was a total bitch about going about it.... I don't know about the present but he use to care, somewhat. He wasn't around enough to really know."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him as her being smart and sweet finally registered to her, She was smart. More than on occasion but sweet? That was more than a lie. Sure she could pass off as sweet and had the sugar coated moments but she didn't do sweet.

"I'm smart yes, sweet, on occasion. but not always. I am sugar coated. Like a candy. I am sweet on the outside bite me and I turn to a sour lemon."

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

wordCOUNT:: 338
currentMOOD:: bored
currentSONG:: fearless - taylor swift
characterOUTFIT:: click here
taggedFOR:: jason, open
writersCOMMENTS::

[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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Her words made him smile wryly. He glanced down at his sweater and khaki pants. "So it's that easy to tell I work here?" It was a little late for that conversation, he knew, but he only brought it up jokingly, a soft, dreamy tone as if amazed by her deduction skills once again. The only thing she had failed to deduce was the same he had failed with for her. How good of a person the other was. But he could only shrug at her assuming him good enough to waste time talking too. "I'd probably slap you if you snapped at me." He smiled, showing it to be more of a joke than anything. He'd slap her if she tried to hurt him, or ratted on his manhood, but otherwise...he liked girls too much.

Which was an inconvenience, to say the least. Thinking it over, he'd probably never hit a girl. Besides his sisters. Then again, when did people ever consider sisters girls? At least, his sisters... They tended to be just as athletic and fit as him. And seeing as they were twins... Two to one odds had never favored him in life. "If I knew what this thing was, I'd be inclined to dislike it." He hated things that just got through from him to other people, things he could never pick up on. Maybe it was that his listened...in a sense. Jason sighed, stepping into the rain, hands in his pockets, face up turned for the rain drops. He was completely at ease with just standing there are getting soaked.

What got him was that she hadn't bad a big deal over his being deaf. It was nice, really, but still, she hadn't seemed to notice when they first started talking. It was just odd, then, for her to accept this without question. Nice, but odd. He watched her then, standing in the rain, her clothing becoming dotted, then speckled. She looked almost just as pleased as him for the wet. He stood there, feeling a sad smile creep on to his face as she spoke of her father more. At least she'd had one to ditch. She might feel a little better about having a father who cared at some point than having one that never cared. But he locked the door to that conversation. To the whole father conversation, really.

Gesturing with an elbow, seeing as he was too lame to pull a hand out of a pocket, he indicated her ring. "Fancy piece of ornamentation," he commented.

"Then you're a fine actress." Her look made him want to put his hands up and ward her off, she seemed so vehement about not being sweet. American teenagers...

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 456
Date: 9/27/10
Cabinet: Hospital
Inquirer: Xavier, Isabella
Status: Public
Alarm: Hungry
Notes: Sorry it took so long...

[isabella rose xavier]

i CAN feel the PRESSURE !

its GETTING closer NOW !

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Isabella looked at him and his clothes upon his asking if it was easy to tell that he worked here. To someone else he would probably look like a visitor because he was a bit to old looking to be a patient. But she had what some would call staff radar. She knew when she was in the presence of staff.

"No your not that obvious to be staff. I just have what some would call staff radar. I know when I am around staff. Its just one of my hinky quirks that have arisen since I've been locked up."

She continued walking as she continued playing with her ring, her eyes darting around the depressing not so colorful grounds that were slowly becoming damp with the drizzle from the sky. The water casting onto the ground and surrounding plants like a sugary glaze on a freshly baked cake causing it to melt and run.

Looking at him she raised an eyebrow. He'd hit a girl? Unless he was just joking around. He didn't seem like the type to do that - then again she had been wrong about people before. But still she had a good feeling he wasn't that type of guy.

"If you hit me, I'd have to hit back. I don't take well to having someone take a swing at me."

She spoke as she looked back ahead of her as they continued walking. Her shirt and skin becoming more damp as the rain trickled from the sky and soaked into the thin material of her shirt, and trickled down her skin. Looking at him then her ring she stopped fiddling with the rose and vine ring,

"I've had this for years. It was a birthday present. I've got countless things with rose's on it. I blame my middle name for that."

She said with a small laugh. Then sighed at his hand gesture to ward her off. Sometimes people took the I am not as sweet as you think comment as I am gonna rip your head off and eat your brains threat...or something along those lines. the rip your head off and eat your brains was her way of putting it.

"Well I am that, but reason for not being a sour lemon with you yet is you've not given me reason to be. I'm sweet and innocent as a new born baby till I get pissed off. Then I become a sour lemon who you do not want to further piss off or be near....But I have a feeling your gonna be one of the few people who never see my temper."

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

wordCOUNT:: 441
currentMOOD:: bored
currentSONG:: simple and clean - utada hikaru
characterOUTFIT:: click here
taggedFOR:: jason, open
writersCOMMENTS::

[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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Even without hearing, he could sense at least a hint of derogatory terms with this "staff radar." Sure it was handy, but hell, how long did one have to be around here to get it? A while obviously. "Five years. I forgot about that..." Jason quirked a smile. He supposed he might have an "officer radar," after being the the military. No, scratch that. He didn't have an officer radar. He had what one might call a "bullshit meter." It worked just as well, if not better, at determining officers from ranker. The smile grew a bit at this and he snorted softly. He hated irony.

The wet was messing with his hair, pressing it flat to his head. It was seeping through the back of his sweater and into his shirt, leaving wet spots on his shoulders and the front of his khakis from the knees down. But still, it was a comforting warmth that surrounded him. Being about to feel all the little speckles of rain, to watch mesmerized as the puddle beside his feet reflected and refracted the ripples. Bella seemed just as fascinated, if in a different way.

Her look was unmistakable. But the words following it weren't. She'd turned around halfway through. "I don't--" I don't what? What didn't she like/want/do/whatever the hell the following verb was? Jason kept the grimace out of his face and eyes. It wasn't her fault. Besides, she'd made most of the trouble in their conversation, always turning to look at him before speaking. That was the problem with lip reading sometimes; people tended to forget after a while. It was...understandable.

So he didn't make too big a deal out of it. "Sorry, 'you don't what?'" Except to express that he didn't know how to reply in the conversation since he hadn't caught the last her her reply. Smooth of him.

Rose was a beautiful middle name. Better when signed. Even more so when done with both hands. He conceded the urge and signed it for her, brushing first his left, then his right cheek with his right hand, then bringing both hands together under his chin, palms facing in, but not touching, fingers curled down and in, almost in the shape of a heart, or a flower bud, then raising his fingers up and out, pinkies together to form a sort of floral image below his face. "Very pretty name, Bella Rose," he smiled just faintly, stating her middle name softly, out of something more akin to reverence than anything else. Something very far from sarcasm or mockery. If he ever had kids, Rose was one of his first choices...

At her expression of sour lemons he shrugged. "Who knows, maybe I prefer sour candy? I've never got on well with static personalities. I have too many..."mood swings," if you will for that. Sort of like the classic teenage girl," this, contrary to initial thought, was followed by a frown. Not that he disliked the comparison to a teenage female, but becuase it was true. And bothersome. He had certain quirks with interacting with others, tending to ignore things he didn't like, or things they wanted him to ignore. He went with how people wanted him to treat them, whether it was in their best interest or not. Like Bella. She wanted him to just talk to her. To just...not do anything expected. To...to be a nice guy. Of course, spite wanted him to just toss her off.

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Case: Sharpe, Jason
File #: 589
Date: 10/2/10
Cabinet: Hospital
Inquirer: Xavier, Isabella
Status: Public
Alarm: ...
Notes:

[isabella rose xavier]

i CAN feel the PRESSURE !

its GETTING closer NOW !

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

Isabella's hair was becoming darker as the rain came down dampening it and plastering it to her skin as well as her t-shirt. Today probably wasn't the best day to wear a white shirt but she had a spaghetti strap top beneath it. A small quirk of hers. always wear a spaghetti strap or tank top under any shirt she wore in case a shirt became ruined she could easily discard the shirt instead of walking around in a soiled shirt.

She frowned slightly - She wasn't paying attention and had looked away mid sentence. Looking back at him she gave a small apologetic look as it had been her fault and then repeated,

"I said, I don't take kindly to people taking swings at me...Sorry I looked away."

She pushed her red hair from her face as they continued walking. Smiling as he signed what she could only guess was Rose in sign language and then said her name,

"Its alright, Little to formal sounding for my liking but then again when parents give their kids refined sounding names they don't expect them to become some crazy person."

She spoke softly as she looked at him before looking down, once she had finished speaking. However the smile came back to her face. Apparently this talk about sweetness and sourness had brought about a candy conversation. Well candy to personal mood comparison conversation.

"I'm more of liking them both. Sour on the outside sweet on the inside. Kinda like Warhead Candies - they shock your taste-buds."

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

wordCOUNT:: 257
currentMOOD:: bored
currentSONG:: darkness turns to light - all american rejects
characterOUTFIT:: click here
taggedFOR:: jason, open
writersCOMMENTS:: sorry its short - i really didn't know what to write.