Delirium (Meta, Mystery, WB, Escape?) - IC, Dead

by **Talchyon** » Fri Nov 16, 2018 12:12 pm

The common room
Todd

As the others were discussing among themselves, or otherwise entertaining themselves, Todd sat in his wheelchair. As usual, he was staring off at a spot on the wall, his eyes unmoving, his mouth open. To all observations, he seemed as catatonic as he always was. And that's why he was being ignored, as usual.

At a moment when everyone else was talking, Todd turned his head. And while his mouth stayed open, a sound came out. A conversation. But it was pretty clear neither of those two were Todd's voice. One was a woman's. The other, an African American man's voice.

The woman spoke at first. "One more thing. I need to speak to Kevin shortly about something he brought up. Then you can take him back."

Then the man's voice. "Alright, Dr. Vasquez. I'll wait for you to get done. Just press the call button."

And then, Todd turned back to the wall, and stared off into space as normal.

The cleaners that day were thorough. But the acrid smell of charred flesh was noticeable. The scorch marks on the walls would be difficult to clean. Whatever Research & Development had been up to, it clearly wasn't going to be one of their successes.

All that Dr. Xu had said to them was that there had been a setback. "Setback, my ass," one of the cleaning ladies said. They went to work, cleaning out the research facility. It was a good thing the other research facilities were still fully functional.

As they cleaned, they swiped all the debris from the failed experiment into the trash. Including several strands of hair that were burnt in most places, but clearly red in the rest.

by **Benuty** » Sat Nov 17, 2018 11:35 pm

Nelson

The Common Room
Until evening supper.

The Common room was appropriately named due to being exceedingly common in almost all aspects of its appearance. Everything was done to ensure patients were at least civil or in much more harder to control cases "docile". The television had only a few channels, and even then the remote had to be manually operated by an orderly since someone decided to use it to harass another patient some time back. So now you had a television with only a few sparse channels, and no way to turn the volume up or down or change the channel without asking someone to do it for you. Outsiders to the facility could take one look at it, and note it had a quaint feeling about it.

That "quaintness" can only go so far, and in their attempts to enforce a weird normal upon the patients they instead inspired a space based on sterility rather than mental "status quo". One was likely to go just as mad with what was actually present in the common room such as the few books available that Nelson had read countless times (at least it felt like he had). Then you had the fake plants placed in to avoid triggering some of the patient's allergies which while understandable detracted from the "life" of the place even further. Perhaps the most annoying aspect of the common room was that bland stock wallpaper with flower printouts you could find of one of those cheesy suburban family sitcoms in peoples rooms. While Nelson sat in one of the couches he caught a mouse scurrying off in the distance, and smiled.

Some time either a week and a half or two weeks ago the janitor had a particularly nasty temper tantrum upon discovering mouse poop. Suffice it to say the man in a fit of surly drunkenness, and rage found the mouse and damaged one of the walls with a broom trying to hit it. Suffice it to say Nelson, and the Janitor didn't get along particularly well after his continued trend of doing this repeatedly. Nelson was anxious today as his usual partner of conversation a rather portly woman seemed to be missing, and it distressed him greatly. He felt great unease, but not for something coming, but rather that something had been done, and it was blocked to him.

by **The Verdantderm Lands** » Sun Nov 18, 2018 8:29 am

Lupe

Lupe returned to the day room just in time to hear the voices of Dr. Vasquez and some other man who's voice, coming out of Todd's (the patient that seemed to be more vegetable than man) mouth, she didn't recognize talking about... Kevin?

Now Lupe was beginning to feel scared. Belinda wasn't making up Kevin! Lupe had forgotten Kevin and according to Belinda, he had been there with them only last week. What had the doctors done with him? What were they doing to her?!?!?

Lupe looked for a good opportunity to try and get close to Belinda, without attracting attention. She slyly double checked to see the positions of cameras in the room, so that when she softly spoke it would be hard for anyone else but Belinda to see her lips move....

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you about Kevin" Lupe said in a hushed tone. "These doctors, these monsters, have stolen so much of my memories and I forgot him. We need to get out of here."

Lupe watched Belinda's face for her reaction and hoped Belinda would speak to her.

by **Union Princes** » Sun Nov 18, 2018 2:05 pm

(Co-write between me, talc, and cyphron)

Belinda left group therapy wary. Her question about Kevin fell on deaf ears. Why didn't anyone else remember him? Muttering to herself, she bumped into Edward on the way out. "Hey, watch it." She said.
She took a step backwards, and saw that the opaque, cloudy guy the staff called "Gary" was also there. The guy who never said anything.
Shrugging, she asked him, "So, is your name actually 'Gary'? And have you always looked like that?"

The Invisible Man simply turned his head to face Belinda as if she called by a nickname he wasn't entirely familiar with. He simply shook his head as his answer to her first question. For her second, the Invisible Man rubbed with his hand over his face to feel if he still lacked the normal features such as eyes and ears, which he did lack completely.

Belinda got annoyed at "Gary" or whatever his name was. "Look, I get it. But unless you want to pantomime everything, it's not going to help."

The Invisible Man simply shrugged his shoulders with his hands raised as if he wanted to say what do you want me to do then?

The man Belinda had bumped into earlier now appeared again, catching up with the duo. "I couldn't help but notice your collision with me earlier, most importantly the fact that you blamed me for it. Still it is of no matter, not like you had much agency in your actions." His strange glowing eyes seemed to... well glow with a strange cheerfulness.

Belinda looked over at the man. Straight brown hair, parted at the side. But what the hell was wrong with his eyes? Muttering to herself, Belinda said, "What happened to your eyes?"

"Ah, an interesting question" His tone changes to one with a lot less emotion, like a man reading meaningless lines off a script. "The eyes lie as they grow from the branches. With time sunlight shall shine through to reveal there was nothing there, never was" His tone changes back to the slightly unnervingly cheery tone he started with. "Dont bother asking what it means, I wont knowtoday."

Upon overhearing a nearby conversation, the Invisible Man again divert his attention to see a patient that has stars for eyes. Now that's bizarre, even for the Invisible Man.

Belinda was puzzled. Whatever the man was saying, made no sense. Of course, who doesn't like the sun shining on them? But, what was he saying about branches, and time? Time! Was that a warning? Was it that time was running out?

She turned and looked at the Invisible Man who had joined them. "Well, then. I won't ask you what it means. Time waits for no one. Time. Time is the key. What time. Out of time." She continued to mutter along these lines to herself.

"Out of time?" the Invisible Man remarked from the sofa, his voice as high-pitched as the cartoon character that he was watching. It wasn't annoying squeaky but the Invisible Man chirped his syllables like a dolphin suffering from Puberphonia.

Belinda glanced over at the Invisible Man. "I knew it! I knew it! Gary can talk!"

"No, no I can't" the Invisible Man quickly blurted out in his high pitched hiss. "I'm not Gary, nope. Not Gary at all."

Belinda said, "Whatever. You can talk. You're not just the silent type. 'Bout time you started talking. Time."

by **Talchyon** » Mon Nov 19, 2018 11:49 am

Common Room
Belinda

Belinda stopped muttering to herself about time, as Lupe spoke with her. She had heard Dr. Vasquez just recently too, but had been too engaged in the conversation to see her or who she was talking about.

"You believe me about Kevin? I knew I wasn't going crazy! Kevin used to be here with us. And now he's gone!"

The suggestion that Lupe raised was something Belinda had thought of. Escape might seem to be the only way to get right again. She lowered her voice. "As for leaving this joint, I have an idea. And I've been noticing that people around here can do things. Unusual things. Kevin could. I can. I think the Hispanic lady the other day could. And maybe everyone can. But I've also noticed something. The drugs that we're on? It's made my abilities weaker. I don't know why. But if we stop taking our meds, and don't eat the food, we might get our abilities back full power. I've actually been not taking the drugs for about three days now. And it's working!"

She glanced around, hoping the cameras were looking elsewhere. "But not eating is important. They're crushing up the drug and putting it in what we eat. Haven't you ever noticed how the staff, the orderlies, the people who work here get meals out of a special tray carrier? They don't go through the line just like we do. So don't eat the food if you want to leave!"

by **Auphelia** » Wed Nov 21, 2018 8:28 pm

Eleanor

" . . . and now he's gone!" Linda cried hysterically, as her mouth was covered by her mysterious lover who was also the only ophthalmologist that accepted her insurance and the dictator of her home country.

"Linda, my love, you must not say such crazy things. I have an idea -"

The gentle richness of Don Rafael's baritone voice was suddenly replaced by a much shriller, if just as hushed, voice. It didn't match what the characters on the screen seemed to be saying, making the scene play out a lot differently than Eleanor thought it would. Come to think of it, why was Don Rafael suddenly speaking English?

" - And I've been noticing that people around here can do things. Unusual things," he said, as the ninja assassins dropped down from the ceiling, brandishing their swords and jumping around, kicking the air.

"Kevin could," Linda spoke hurriedly, blocking one of the swords from hitting Don Rafael with her own dagger. She stabbed the ninja in the eye and turned to face her next attacker as an army of turtle ninjas swung in on vines. This must be the cross over episode with Los Tortugas de la Corazon!

As the turtles flipped about, towering into their signature pyramid formation, she realised she couldn't hear the sound effects on the screen, or the noise of herself sucking on her caramel square. She looked over at Ms. Martinez, but the woman just spoke in that same shrill, almost crazed voice, saying "I can" without any context. Was something wrong? She sometimes had episodes like this, but not quite so intense. Should she tell one of the staff? No, she didn't need to bother them. She would tell them if it got worse.

"I think the Hispanic lady the other day could," the turtles shouted, apparently having changed their vicious battle cry. She hoped that didn't become canon. It didn't have the same punch as "For liberty!".

"And maybe everyone can. But I've also noticed something. The drugs that we're on? It's made my abilities weaker. I don't know why. But if we stop taking our meds, and don't eat the food, we might get our abilities back full power," Don Rafael said, lobbing exploding pinatas at the ninjas as he scooped up Linda and ran for his flying burrito submarine. The giant villa exploded behind them in a fiery ball as she kissed her passionately, running his fingers through her hair with one hand and piloting the flying submarine with his other.

"I've actually been not taking the drugs for about three days now. And it's working!" he murmured in her ear as the screen faded to black.

The voices continued speaking, and Eleanor whipped her head around to try and see where these voices were coming from. Maybe it wasn't a hallucination? Was someone being so jarringly loud that she couldn't hear her program?

"But not eating is important. They're crushing up the drug and putting it in what we eat. Haven't you ever noticed how the staff, the orderlies, the people who work here get meals out of a special tray carrier? They don't go through the line just like we do. So don't eat the food if you want to leave!"

There. It was the girl, Belinda talking to the other woman, Lupe, on the other side of the room. She had tried to talk to those women, back when they first joined her therapy group, but neither one of them had seemed to work well as friends, too crazy or sullen to be proper company. But now she would have to focus all of her confrontational skills, as limited as they were, to berate them for being far too loud. It seemed like they were whispering now, most likely having realised how loud they were, but she would let her irate attitude show. She would yell, scream, and kick if necessary.

She marched up to them, clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and murmured, "Would you mind being a bit quieter? I could hear you all the way across the room. Please do not shout in the common areas. Thank you."

Lucretia

She glanced around, quickly glancing at the exit of the common room, flanked by the ever watchful orderly. There were only two of them in the room right now, one of which was helping referee the chess game being held by a small group of middle aged patients. She knew the red haired woman loved to cheat like there was no tomorrow, though for some patients, there wasn't. Shaking those stray thoughts aside, she turned her mind fully over to her plan. She was crouched right by a bookcase, with the books placed precariously on the edge. It would be such a shame if they were to fall over. Every day she walked by, and they were poorly organised, each barely flipped through as if no one here had the patience to finish one of them. One book would be all it took. With a deft flick of her wrist, she pushed herself off of the floor, used her other hand to push on the edge of one stack of books, fell back to the ground and tucked her arms and legs into her body, rolling to the side so she could roll out of sight of the door. Using one of the long cushioned benches as cover, she crawled past two old Hispanic women and peeked out.

The orderly by the door had walked over to the bookcase, where dozens of books lay scattered around the floor. The other orderly and most of the patients seemed to have noticed her distraction, meaning no one was watching the door. Getting to her feet in one fluid motion, she sprinted, slid through the door silently, and was in the hallway. Walking quickly, she made her way through the halls with the expertise of someone who has lived in the same small area of a single small building for the better part of a year. Every day she had been herded past this door on the way to the group therapy rooms, and now was her chance. She slipped the key card out of her shoe and pressed it to the scanner, unlocking the door with a green flash and a small clicking noise.

This plan had taken nearly three weeks of planning, ever since she realised one of the night custodial staff members always left their cart by her room when they were mopping up the halls by the patients' rooms, their key card dangling enticingly from a small lanyard tucked in a side pocket. It had taken that time to figure out schedules, come up with the appropriate plans to get to a place where she could use the card, and do it in a way that could answer all of her questions.

Was it reckless? Yes. Were there cameras that would catch her? Maybe. Hopefully she would be back in time for no one to miss her, and there would be no major incidents that would need footage to be reviewed. This all hinged on no one watching the one section of hallway between the common room and Dr. Vasquez's not being monitored for the twenty seconds she was in it.

She entered the office, knowing the doctor wouldn't be in it until her office hours, which were the hour before sleeping time. Stepping around a filing cabinet, she sat in the doctor's desk and sent a quick prayer to whatever higher power there might be before clicking a key on the keyboard. A screensaver popped up, of the hospital logo that was on the food trays, the key card she was using, and the mosaic in the front hall. The screen was cluttered with files and icons, each titled with a different name. She didn't recognise any of them, though most appeared to be in a LAST NAME, FIRST INITIAL format. Could they be patient files? She looked for her own name. Ah! There it was. Mott, L. She clicked on it, but a small pop up showed up instead of the files.

Well.

That was unfortunate.

PASSWORD: ______________________________________

by **Achidyemay** » Sat Nov 24, 2018 6:02 am

The common room was typically rather rowdy, it was, afterall, a common room. With no other places in the facility for the residents to really be, as if they were allowed elsewhere, it was quite the hotspot. Robin typically tried to avoid it. It wasn't that the people were loud or annoying, he was very understanding of the condition some of his peers were in, it was just that there was a certain claustrophobic quality to the large windowed room. He tried to piece the puzzle together, to allow it to take his mind off of things, but it seemed the more he tried to focus, the more his mind was pulled into all of the conversations around him. Jacob was complaining that his daughter hadn't visited him in a long time, although Robin was fairly certain she had been in last Monday. Ashley was complaining about the food. Ol' Mags was accusing Hannah of cheating again, which she probably was, and they had gotten an orderly involved. It wasn't a predictable pulse, but it had definitely become familiar and it was that familiarity that itched around his neck. For once, he just wanted something to happen.

"Well, that's interesting." Sam said, looking over at the TV. Robin glanced up, it was one of those daytime soaps, the exact opposite of something interesting. There were turtles, but ehh? He was about to go back to the puzzle when a whole bookshelf came tumbling down.

"That too," said Sam. Jeez, Robin thought, wondering if someone upstairs had heard his pleas for something new. He turned around on the couch to get a better view of the wreckage and Sam did too, kneeling on the sofa cushions. A moment later they tapped Robin on the shoulder.

"What?" He asked and Sam gestured toward one of the doors with their chin. Robin turned just in time to see a foot slipping through. Something churned in his mind but he couldn't place it.
"What?" He repeated. Something in Sam's expression fell a bit, but then they came over all determined looking.
Slowly, as if dealing with a child, they said, "Isn't it weird that the bookshelf fell, and then someone snuck through the doorway, almost like the bookshelf was a distraction, c'mon Robin, you've seen movies, right?"
"Pshyeah," Robin said, although he couldn't think of any at the moment, "although, that's a good point you have." Robin didn't want this moment to end. "What would you say to us doing a little detective work, and by us I mean you, you should go follow the person."
"I'd say you definitely deserve to be here in the looney bin, I'm not leaving your side."
"C'mon, it was your idea!"
"No I didn't you did, dude, I can't just walk away, who would protect you if something bad happens, what would John think?"
"Dude, I'm fine, I am fine, I can protect myself and John doesn't need to know anything, just a quick in and out sort of thing, it'll be fun!"
Sam looked entirely torn.
"Give me a moment." They said, and then Robin blinked and Sam was gone, along with their copy of The Metaphysics of the Mind. Another blink brought them back, although now Sam was wearing a lab coat and what was definitely Dr. Vasquez' glasses, "how do I look?"
"Professional."
"Cool." Sam beamed. They both looked over to where the orderlies were stacking the books. Suddenly, Robin noticed that Sam was taking up weight and space, actually sinking into the couch. Sam also looked like they were about to throw up. "Haven't done that in a while," they whispered to themselves. Standing now, Sam brushed at their newly real lab coat and then exited the room. Robin watched Sam go and then, after the door clicked closed, sort of sank a little into the couch, wondering what to do now and what exactly he had just sent his friend off to do.

Sam let their fingertips dapple along the wall as they walked. They weren't exactly certain where they were going at first, but the hallway was empty and polished and echoed noise. In specific, it echoed the sound of a door closing. And another opening, Sam quickly moved down the adjoining hall as the double doors in front of them opened. They tried to walk like they belonged and then sped up again as the voices passed behind, wondering which of the offices in this corridor had made the closing sound. Sam cast a critical eye over the doors then walked back down the hallway and flicked the hallway light off. There were problems with the technique, Sam knew this, but there were two doors in the hallway with lights shining through and one more with the dim blue glow of a computer screen.

"Gotchya," Sam whispered. With a click, the lights hummed back to life and with a few steps, Sam was knocking on the door, a quick shave-and-a-hair-cut.

by **Auphelia** » Mon Nov 26, 2018 6:46 pm

Achidyemay wrote:"Cool." Sam beamed. They both looked over to where the orderlies were stacking the books. Suddenly, Robin noticed that Sam was taking up weight and space, actually sinking into the couch. Sam also looked like they were about to throw up. "Haven't done that in a while," they whispered to themselves. Standing now, Sam brushed at their newly real lab coat and then exited the room. Robin watched Sam go and then, after the door clicked closed, sort of sank a little into the couch, wondering what to do now and what exactly he had just sent his friend off to do.

Sam let their fingertips dapple along the wall as they walked. They weren't exactly certain where they were going at first, but the hallway was empty and polished and echoed noise. In specific, it echoed the sound of a door closing. And another opening, Sam quickly moved down the adjoining hall as the double doors in front of them opened. They tried to walk like they belonged and then sped up again as the voices passed behind, wondering which of the offices in this corridor had made the closing sound. Sam cast a critical eye over the doors then walked back down the hallway and flicked the hallway light off. There were problems with the technique, Sam knew this, but there were two doors in the hallway with lights shining through and one more with the dim blue glow of a computer screen.

"Gotchya," Sam whispered. With a click, the lights hummed back to life and with a few steps, Sam was knocking on the door, a quick shave-and-a-hair-cut.

Lucretia

This stupid password. She supposed the doctor hadn't been gone long if her computer didn't lock itself, but having password protection on her files? In her computer? It was frustrating. She tried to think about what the password might be. Would it be as simple as "password"? Taking a breath to steady her nerves, she carefully typed.

PASSWORD:_________********_________

INCORRECT PASSWORD
YOU HAVE 2 MORE ATTEMPTS

FORGOT PASSWORD?

She glanced around her to see if she could find anything that could give her any ideas about the password. She knew she had been stupid to overlook something like this, after going to so much trouble actually getting here.

Dr. Vasquez's office seemed to be a sort of generic therapist template type room, with just enough personality to make it seem like an actual person spent time in it. Lucretia sat in the soft rolling chair behind the desk, which was a dark wooden type, solid, well cleaned and maintained. It only had the computer, keyboard, mouse, a small tray filled with some papers that seemed to be about medication amounts, and a small little machine, grey. She pressed the big button on top of it and was startled by the sound of rainfall. It was one of those calming machines they played at night over the announcement system to "get the patients in a sleepy mindset". She personally hated the sounds of the machine, and cut it off. It was like an incessant needling in her mind, making her sleepy, but sleep only ever brought confusion. Quickly swivelling to see the bookcase behind her, she noticed it was filled with all kinds of books with psychobabble nonsense, like The Me In You I Want To Meet, Yurt Life: How Migratory Living Impacts Ferrets In Inner Mongolia, and Meta: The Untold Story of Living Weapons. On one of the shelves was a candle in a glass container, the wax not entirely melted, leaving a slightly spicy aroma in the air. It was nice, and almost put her at ease. She shrugged it off, moving faster. She didn't have time to waste like this! Next to the bookshelf were three filing cabinets, each with four drawers, nothing there. Above that was a cork board with several photos tucked in, most of them photos of some old city, some with her shaking hands with people in fancy clothes, and a small little drawing of her, done in a sketchy pencil style. The rest of the walls had her certificates from university and the hospital training programs, a framed poster with horses running through a shallow riverbed, a couch in the back, two chairs right in front of the desk . . . it wasn't enough.

Distressed, she flipped through the pile of medication forms on the desk, on the off chance she might still find something . . . it seemed everyone got roughly the same thing . . . blah blah blah . . . suppressing the memories . . . so that's why everyone had so much trouble remembering their lives! Looking for herself, it took another minute before she found her own file. Most of it was impossible to understand, talk about dosages . . . so it was the food they put the medicine in . . . hmm. They were keeping her awake? Why? She searched every box on the form, but couldn't see any more than that. Now she only had more questions than she started with.

She swivelled back and firmly planted her feet on the floor, facing the computer screen and the password box. It was killing her to know she was so close, and yet so far from -

She sat upright as if she had suddenly been blasted by a bolt of lightning, her mental gears shifting into a higher gear. If this worked - no - it had to work! She clicked on the forgot password link, and it directed her to a new window. After a few seconds a small chime on the computer signalled it had sent a password reset link to Dr. Vasquez's email. Quickly clicking into the web browser, she got onto the search history to find her mail.

Some psychological stuff, google searches, shirtless centaur handsome man . . .

Her face went red and she quickly scrolled faster, looking for the symbol of . . . ah! She clicked on the link and the email began to load. No password! Thank goodness for laziness and password save features. It was almost ready when suddenly there was a quick pattern of knocks at the door.

Why? Who? How? This was mildly concerning. As far as she knew, Dr. Vasquez didn't have any reason to knock on her own door, and she was fairly certain no one had scheduled to come here, there would be no custodial cleanings until tomorrow, and it didn't make sense for anyone else to be here. Quickly turning down the brightness on the screen and sliding out of the chair onto the floor, she crawled over the hard carpet, the soft green rug, and then the hard carpet again, peering under the small crack in the door. She saw a pair of large, soft soled shoes, and not much else. The shoes shifted as their owner waited for a response.

First, she checked to make sure the physical locks on the interior of the door were locked, and saw that they were. Even if the person had a key card, they shouldn't be able to get in unless they were one of the custodians or one of the doctors. Lucretia slowly moved to grab the noise machine, the heaviest portable item she could see, and moved to where the intruder would be unable to see her if they managed to open the door.

She waited in the darkness, ready.

by **Talchyon** » Tue Nov 27, 2018 11:44 am

Dr. Lee Roberts, chief administrator

The reports were in, and to no surprise, little progress had been made. Dr. Roberts scowled. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. There was only so much they could do at this stage. Only so much he could do.

The door opened, and Dr. Small came in. Dr. Roberts gave his colleague and appraising glance. She was bothered. That was obvious to anyone seeing her. A tinge of fear crept up Dr. Roberts' spine, which he then dismissed. "It's stress. Stress and nerves," the chief hospital administrator said to himself.

Summoning a voice of confidence, honed from years of speaking to both patients and other colleagues, Dr. Roberts said, "How can I help you, Jen?" She hated that he used her first name, but authority had its privileges.

Dr. Small, director of Clinical Assessment, nervously responded, "I think we have a security risk."

Lee's ears picked up. Out of all the things that could go wrong, security was crucial. With squinting eyes behind his dark glasses, the hospital administrator asked, "Security? What do you mean?"

Dr. Small took a deep breath in, and then wordlessly handed over the file she had been carrying. Opening it, Dr. Lee Roberts scanned the papers inside, and looked up. "I don't get it."

Dr. Small looked at her superior and remarked, "Look at the handwritten section at the bottom. Near the picture. I was preparing my reports for the board meeting, and was tracking how many patients our therapists treat, just like the board asked me to cover last time. There was a name mentioned, but there were no records of us ever having this person as a patient. Well, simple mistake, I thought at first. But the more I looked, the more the name kept showing up."

Dr. Roberts shot the nervous woman a bored look. "So? Sounds like somebody didn't file their paperwork correctly. That's hardly a security breach."

Dr. Small shook her head. "That's what I thought, too. But that's where the handwritten comment comes in. It took me a while to figure it out. It's just a genetic assessment formula. Standard. But this genetic sample matched up with another sample we had in our system. One reference to it in the entire database. Can you guess where?"

Dr. Roberts could see where this was going, and didn't like it. He gave a cold stare as Dr. Small continued. "It shows up in the psychoanalysis recordings of all things. One of our patients recited this same chemical formula that is written down here when the therapist was leading group therapy. How would a patient know that?! But he did. And that patient also gave a name with that chemical formula. The name was "Kevin." That is, whoever this Kevin was, also apparently had this same genetic code and precise formula. The same formula that's hand-written down on this inventory report! But according to the rest of the records, we've never had a patient named Kevin at all."

She was bothered, not alone by the fact that her supervisor was glaring at her. "I think someone's been wiping our records. We had a patient, who seems to have gone missing, who had a precise genetic formula, named Kevin, who at least one of our patients knows, who was an actual person, but no one else remembers! What the hell is going on?!"

Before he could answer, the phone rang. Thankful for the interruption, but still sensing the tension in the room, Dr. Roberts picked it up. After a few moments, he spoke quietly into it. "Ok. Get on it." Then he put the phone down, and told his Director of Clinical Assessment, "Thanks for bringing this up, Jen. I'll begin an investigation. Oh, and one more thing. Who was the patient that remembered this other patient who has gone presumably missing?"

Dr. Small checked her notes. "It says her name is Belinda."

Dr. Roberts wrote the name down. "Thanks again. We'll get to the bottom of this." They both knew what could happen if any of their patients went missing. As Dr. Small left her supervisor's office, Dr. Roberts frowned. And thought. He picked up his phone again, typed in a number he knew well, and explained a few things, ending with an ominous statement, "You know what to do."

Tyrell Jackson, orderly

The jovial African-American was on common room duty. Most times it was a simple task. Turn on the tv to a western or some other old classic show (today it was a soap opera) and baby-sit the patients. Tyrell thought of his plans later that evening. After work, he had tickets to the Nuggets. A little hoops could be fun. Who cares if it was against the Sonics? It was still the NBA.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he observed what was happening. There were a few chit-chatting in a group. Some were watching tv. A few were trying to play chess - not that they always knew or followed the rules, but hey. It was still helpful for them to try.

Suddenly, a jarring noise filled the room. A bookshelf had fallen! How had the bookshelf fallen? Tyrell was frustrated, but tried to get it back in working order. The case itself would have been easy to put back up by himself, but the books that had fallen out had made that simple task a Herculean effort.

He called out to a few patients nearby, "Hey, can you help me put these back?" Some of the middle-aged women drifted over and tried to help putting the books on the case. So what if they were upside down or backwards? Eventually they got the whole thing taken care of.

Tyrell sighed. Common room duty was supposed to be a cakewalk.

And then he stopped. Something caught in his mind. A mental red flag. He looked around the common room, and counted the patients. There were supposed to be 20. Here were 19. Yeah, someone may have gone to their private room. That happened. But that meant Tyrell was going to need to make a round through the rooms just to be sure. He took off, and came back shortly after. The rooms were empty. Everyone was in the common room - but one was not.

He pulled out his cell phone and made a call, "We got a problem."

Common Room
Belinda

Auphelia wrote:Eleanor

" . . . and now he's gone!" Linda cried hysterically, as her mouth was covered by her mysterious lover who was also the only ophthalmologist that accepted her insurance and the dictator of her home country.

"Linda, my love, you must not say such crazy things. I have an idea -"

The gentle richness of Don Rafael's baritone voice was suddenly replaced by a much shriller, if just as hushed, voice. It didn't match what the characters on the screen seemed to be saying, making the scene play out a lot differently than Eleanor thought it would. Come to think of it, why was Don Rafael suddenly speaking English?

" - And I've been noticing that people around here can do things. Unusual things," he said, as the ninja assassins dropped down from the ceiling, brandishing their swords and jumping around, kicking the air.

"Kevin could," Linda spoke hurriedly, blocking one of the swords from hitting Don Rafael with her own dagger. She stabbed the ninja in the eye and turned to face her next attacker as an army of turtle ninjas swung in on vines. This must be the cross over episode with Los Tortugas de la Corazon!

As the turtles flipped about, towering into their signature pyramid formation, she realised she couldn't hear the sound effects on the screen, or the noise of herself sucking on her caramel square. She looked over at Ms. Martinez, but the woman just spoke in that same shrill, almost crazed voice, saying "I can" without any context. Was something wrong? She sometimes had episodes like this, but not quite so intense. Should she tell one of the staff? No, she didn't need to bother them. She would tell them if it got worse.

"I think the Hispanic lady the other day could," the turtles shouted, apparently having changed their vicious battle cry. She hoped that didn't become canon. It didn't have the same punch as "For liberty!".

"And maybe everyone can. But I've also noticed something. The drugs that we're on? It's made my abilities weaker. I don't know why. But if we stop taking our meds, and don't eat the food, we might get our abilities back full power," Don Rafael said, lobbing exploding pinatas at the ninjas as he scooped up Linda and ran for his flying burrito submarine. The giant villa exploded behind them in a fiery ball as she kissed her passionately, running his fingers through her hair with one hand and piloting the flying submarine with his other.

"I've actually been not taking the drugs for about three days now. And it's working!" he murmured in her ear as the screen faded to black.

The voices continued speaking, and Eleanor whipped her head around to try and see where these voices were coming from. Maybe it wasn't a hallucination? Was someone being so jarringly loud that she couldn't hear her program?

"But not eating is important. They're crushing up the drug and putting it in what we eat. Haven't you ever noticed how the staff, the orderlies, the people who work here get meals out of a special tray carrier? They don't go through the line just like we do. So don't eat the food if you want to leave!"

There. It was the girl, Belinda talking to the other woman, Lupe, on the other side of the room. She had tried to talk to those women, back when they first joined her therapy group, but neither one of them had seemed to work well as friends, too crazy or sullen to be proper company. But now she would have to focus all of her confrontational skills, as limited as they were, to berate them for being far too loud. It seemed like they were whispering now, most likely having realised how loud they were, but she would let her irate attitude show. She would yell, scream, and kick if necessary.

She marched up to them, clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and murmured, "Would you mind being a bit quieter? I could hear you all the way across the room. Please do not shout in the common areas. Thank you."

Belinda looked at Eleanor, and was about to respond when the books and the shelf crashed. The noise startled her. But then she returned to Eleanor when the orderly was cleaning up. "Keep it down, ok? We're going to escape. And you need to come with us, too. We can do things. Amazing things. But the medicine is keeping it away. I'll show you what I mean."

And looking around, making sure her back was to the camera and the orderly's attention was elsewhere, took a small coaster from an end table and fished out a crushed pop can from the trash. Then, Belinda held both of them together, slightly, and the two things merged together. The pop can was now completely joined to the coaster, as if the two materials had met up and decided to merge - but didn't make it all the way. They were not two things anymore, but a conglomeration.

Belinda responded to Eleanor. "See? That's something I can do. Everyone here can do something. You can too, or you wouldn't be here. But we need to get out. They are keeping us here, for whatever reason we don't know, but the medicine is keeping us from using our abilities as we should. And why is it that we all have memory problems? I don't know, but we need to find out. Are you with us, or not?"

by **Auphelia** » Sun Dec 02, 2018 4:10 pm

Eleanor

Talchyon wrote:Common Room
Belinda

Belinda looked at Eleanor, and was about to respond when the books and the shelf crashed. The noise startled her. But then she returned to Eleanor when the orderly was cleaning up. "Keep it down, ok? We're going to escape. And you need to come with us, too. We can do things. Amazing things. But the medicine is keeping it away. I'll show you what I mean."

And looking around, making sure her back was to the camera and the orderly's attention was elsewhere, took a small coaster from an end table and fished out a crushed pop can from the trash. Then, Belinda held both of them together, slightly, and the two things merged together. The pop can was now completely joined to the coaster, as if the two materials had met up and decided to merge - but didn't make it all the way. They were not two things anymore, but a conglomeration.

Belinda responded to Eleanor. "See? That's something I can do. Everyone here can do something. You can too, or you wouldn't be here. But we need to get out. They are keeping us here, for whatever reason we don't know, but the medicine is keeping us from using our abilities as we should. And why is it that we all have memory problems? I don't know, but we need to find out. Are you with us, or not?"

Her eyes felt as if they were about to pop out of their sockets, and it was all she could do to not vomit all over the flooring. Thankfully the chaos of that shelving crash covered her deep breathing, as she tried to comprehend what she had just seen. A girl, not unlike her, had just made two things into one thing. She didn't - couldn't - understand.

"Um . . . I . . . who . . . the why how . . . he . . . they . . . you . . ." she said, hyperventilating. Suddenly another hallucination hit her, the smell of acrid smoke burning her nostrils, overlaid with intense images of . . . the hair . . . her eyes closed tight and she nearly collapsed, trying to forget the violent image. The stress, it always exacerbated her hallucinations, and now they were coming on more intense than ever, no doubt brought on by this girl's claims.

Snippets of conversations flowed through her ears, board meetings and images of men talking into radios, centaur porn . . . wait, what? It was that last image that snapped her out of her twisted, hallucinatory reverie. A building migraine she hadn't even realised was there ebbed away while she calmed down. Now was not the time to panic. She had to be sensible. Calm. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, watching the others watching her, taking steady breaths. She didn't know these people well, aside from in group therapy. Belinda was always a bit out there, but what she had just done and said made a strange, almost unbelievable level of sense. The more she thought about it, superpowers explained a lot. Pieces of a vast puzzle began to fit themselves together, a little at a time, until she had a small, fragile image in her mind. Was she going crazy? Should she tell someone? These thoughts were crushed as she looked into Belinda's eyes. There was no doubt Eleanor had heard too much, and there really wasn't a choice. Eleanor was in whether she liked it or not.

"So . . we are here because we have superpowers. Medicine is keeping us from using them . . . and it takes away our memories. How do you know this? Why do you think we need to escape? What if we are here for a good reason? Maybe the outside world hates us and will kill anyone with powers on sight, and this facility keeps us safe? Maybe it is a requirement of some international treaty and if we get out we are in breach and start a world war? If you think it isn't safe here and have good logic, I suppose I would have to be an ignorant fool to stay, but we need to know more first. You can't just escape first and think later."

Lucretia

Her breathing was too hard. She worked to lower it, almost exacerbating the need to breathe while slowly growing more relaxed. Surely the person at the door had gone away when no one answered? If they had a key card they would have entered already, so she was safe. Right? She allowed herself to slowly lower the noise machine, letting it land by her thigh. She closed her eye and counted to ten before softly moving across the room once more and seating herself at the desk. To be safe she made sure the volume was off on the computer and the light on the screen was dimmed before she did anything else. Back to work.

The email had loaded and now all of Dr. Vasquez's secrets were revealed! Well, not quite. Less than a minute of perusing the woman's entire email determined two things: the password reset link didn't get sent and the doctor didn't have a life. It was as if her work was her entire life. She never took a day off, took any extra shifts, and didn't seem to have any personal mail at all, except for some sort of fan fiction website. A quick login and a peek into her posting history revealed some . . . rather disturbing content involving centaurs. Lucretia didn't know if she could ever take Dr. Vasquez seriously again. Stifling her laughter, she received a spark of what she could only describe as divine inspiration. In a split second she decided that if she couldn't access secret information, she would at least have some fun. Her eyes flashed with puckish mirth as she quickly found a dating website online. Heart Connections, Muslim Mingle, YouHeartMe, GoodbyeSadness? With blinding speed she set up a series of dating profiles over the next five minutes, answering their questions like Dr. Vasquez might have, and by the time she was done with the last profile the first ones already had messages. She reloaded the email to see the notifications pop up. Good. What else? The centaur fan fiction? What could she do with that? She gently hummed to herself, watching the dating profiles get upwards of a dozen messages. Then it hit her.

With blinding speed she went back to the fan fiction site and looked up the doctor's profile. She knew she had remembered right. She was a top writer in Fantasy Fiction (Mature) for 2018, which might mean there was an email she could "accidentally" forward to some of the other hospital staff. She chuckled slightly, pushing down some guilt that attempted to well up inside of her. She wasn't sure why she was going so far, but she couldn't stop.

Back in the email, looked up "cent" before the auto fill feature filled it in. "Centaur". There was one for awards right at the bottom. Clicking down three times she hit the submit key and . . . darn. She hit the wrong entry. She had hit some email address, a 3747centpoel36@9263.net. She nearly clicked away before one word in bold caught her attention.

To: vasquez_01@auroragrovepi.org

From: 3747cent6poel36@9263.net

Subject: Urgent

The time table for the plan has been moved up. We need you to speed up the project. Researchers on our end recommend increasing doses. We appreciate your continued cooperation. This is to be done quickly, and as always, quietly.

To: 3747cent6poel36@9263.net

From: vasquez_01@auroragrovepi.org

Subject: Re: Urgent

Your researchers must be wrong then. Medication can deal with the obvious problems, but you can't speed up therapy. More medications will only delay their progress, or even reverse it. Real results mean addressing the latent issues hidden beneath the surface. I cannot condone or abide by this, and the plan won't succeed if you do this. I say no.

To: vasquez_01@auroragrovepi.org

From: 3747cent6poel36@9263.net

Subject: Re: Re: Urgent

I'm afraid we must insist. Use the new medication we sent you. It should do well. We wouldn't want what happened to your last colleague to happen to you as well, would we?

Comply or there will be consequences.

Lucretia stared. What in the world was happening at this hospital? Why was . . . who . . . how!? The emails were from at least two months ago, which meant everyone had probably been taking this planned medication to do . . . something. Somehow this excursion had raised more questions than it had provided answers, and a glance at the time on the computer revealed she had been gone entirely too long. But first . . . a plan formed in her mind. A way to get more information.

She created a new email account and emailed Dr. Vasquez from it. She then logged out of the account and deleted it from the computer. Checking to make sure no one was around, she slipped out of the room and made her way to her room, avoiding the cameras as best she was able and slipping the key card into the small slit between the floor and wall under her bed, unnoticeable unless you had had time for months to do nothing for several hours every day but stay in the same room and occupy yourself.

She would be back.

To: vasquez_01@auroragrovepi.org

From: 4737bent9doel36@gmail.com

Subject: Urgent

Our former account was unfortunately discovered by those who do not agree with what we are doing. We will no longer be able to contact you from that account. Do not read or respond to any further emails, as it is likely to be a trap to get into the Aurora Grove network.

The plan has been forced to change. Do not use the new medication any more. Some rather unfortunate complications have made themselves known, and we cannot afford any further setbacks. We are willing to allow you to do what you feel you need to make their therapy work.

Do not fail.

by **Talchyon** » Tue Dec 04, 2018 10:14 pm

Time Skip

8:12 a.m.
Cafeteria

It snowed all night. Not that it had been unexpected. Denver's leading meteorologists had predicted snow would fall. And fall it did. To the tune of 12 and a half inches! It wasn't the worst storm in Denver's history by far. 12.5 inches would hardly make the top 10 list. But it inconvenience everyone. Half the staff hadn't been able to get out of their driveways, and would trickle in when they could. And curse as much as the hospital administrator did, it wouldn't change anything. Aurora Grove Psychiatric Hospital was just going to be understaffed for the morning and perhaps a good chunk of the rest of the day, too.

Short on orderlies, Rex Burke found himself doing double duty. Escorting patients to and from breakfast didn't him a moment's pause. The only break he had was for those patients who moved slower. He wheeled Todd up to his table without a word and got the man a breakfast. Then, on to the next. If only Tyrell had been there! But no, Tyrell was busy shoveling out snow in front of his apartment the hard way. Said he ran out of gas in his snow blower and didn't realize it. So Rex went to check his list, and brought the next patient out.

Dr. Lee Roberts had managed to get through, due to the hospital's steady stream of financial contributions to the city offices. That led city managers to inform their road crews whose street (and driveway even) were to come first. And what do you know, but Dr. Roberts' street was one of the first. He was able to get to work on time, but annoyed that the storm had derailed so many others. The snow not only hindered the staff, but it also hindered some of his plans.

Drs. Jen Small and Maria Vasquez had been stuck in their respective homes. Fortunately, Dr. Vasquez had a day off, and therapy that day was going to be with the other therapist, Dr. Hugo Christiansen. And Christiansen had been able to make it. Besides shoveling snow, one thing Dr. Vasquez was planning on doing was finding out who pranked her by sending disturbing pictures of fantasy creatures. She told herself that maybe she had accidentally clicked on a junk mail link, and this was the result. But she didn't remember doing anything like that.

Rex Burke came to Belinda's room, and brought the sulking patient to get her breakfast. After going through the line and getting her tray, she sat down, muttering to herself. She wasn't going to eat any of it, just like she hadn't for days now. Convinced that there was a medicine ground up and put in the food, Belinda was going to be hard to change her mind. The rumbling in her stomach was getting harder to ignore, though. But she soldiered her way through the meal time by thinking of Kevin and what had happened to him. She was hoping Lupe and Eleanor - and anyone else they might have convinced - to join her. Today was the day! The one good thing about today was that she was going to do it. She was going to escape, but she needed as many with her as possible. They'd have to whisper their plans together at breakfast time, lest the psychiatric staff heard them. But no matter. A small smile spread over the deranged woman's face.

Sure enough, Lupe came over. The attractive woman was flirting with the orderlies as they passed by. But with her tray, she sat down beside Belinda and began pretending to eat. She knew. Belinda leaned over and said, "Tonight. Tonight I'm going to break out. And anyone who wants to come is fine, but we need to plan it."

Lupe merely nodded, her head low and her face impassive. "Sounds good to me. They've been keeping things from us. All I want is to find out what happened to us." She
thought of her infant. Was it a baby boy or girl? Why couldn't she remember?! Lupe simply knew that whoever had taken her memories from her were going to suffer.

Meanwhile, Rex the orderly was checking his list. He scanned the dining hall, and then looked down at the list again. Not seeing the last person he was supposed to bring, he went out down the hallway again, looking for her. She wasn't in her room. Rex checked it again - it looked practically deserted. No sign of personal keepsakes, no pictures on the wall, nothing but bare clinical white and a sturdy bed the furniture company promised was comfortable. It was as if no one had ever lived there, it was so spotless and immaculate. Confused, Rex went to the private bathroom and knocked on the door. "Hello? Are you in there? It's breakfast time." But not seeing a light on beneath the door, Rex opened the bathroom door and found the room empty.

He came back to the cafeteria, looked around again, but didn't see her. That wasn't good. His eyes closing in dread at the chewing out he was soon to get, Rex pulled out his phone and punched in a number. "This is orderly Rex Burke. We're missing a patient. Yeah. Yeah. I checked everywhere, but can't find her. No, she's not in the bathroom. I got everybody else here, but not her. She's not in the hallways, or her room. Yeah. Yeah. Ok." The phone conversation was over. It was never a good sign when you were missing a patient. Where could a middle-aged Hispanic mental patient go? The one that some called Mrs. Villaseñor? (Though that wasn't her real name. Like any of these names these patients here went by were their real names.)

by **Zjaum** » Wed Dec 05, 2018 2:18 pm

Yesterday was Melody's quiet day. Whenever she was in public, she would sit in the corner, staring at people and flashing them smiles. She wore a countenance that appeared to imply ulterior motives but in truth concealed nothing but a broken mind. Whenever she could, she lay on her bed, face up, trying to find pictures in the stucco/plaster ceiling patterns.

It was fun, but she wanted to do something a tad more... eventful today. She strolled through the hall towards the cafeteria, wandering to this side of the wall, then the other, bumping against the sides and pretending she was a ping pong ball. She stopped midway and pressed her hands to her temples. She made a sound of strained tension and held on it for a minute, and a molybdenum quarter appeared in front of her. She took a moment to catch her breath and laughed. It took longer to get the satisfaction, but it was well worth the wait. She pocketed the quarter, hoping that the guards wouldn't notice and double her dosage again.

She approached the cafeteria and made seven circles around the tables of Jericho. All the while, she was singing to herself. Occasionally, she hummed, and occasionally she sang the words. "Wina... hm mm, wina... dajcie... A jak umre... pochowajcie..." There didn't seem to be as many supervisors in the area. Which was good. Fewer to watch out for.

Today she was happy. She collected the food, being careful to avoid anything with the "CONTAINS NUTS" label. While normally, she would sit in the corner, watching the vast open space before her, she thought that this morning she would make new friends. She thumped down on a random table seat of her choice, shaking the table and rattling everyone's food on top. No spills. Oh well.

She smiled at everyone around her. It felt nice. She overheard one of the leaders mention someone who escaped. "Well, we would do well to catch it," she stated. She hoped she didn't sound flippant in her demeanor, she earnestly thought it. At least, for that case.

She got up and flumped down next to Nelson. "Good morning, Nelson. How is your day?"

by **Benuty** » Wed Dec 05, 2018 8:22 pm

Nelson

8:15 a.m
Cafetaria

Nelson still distressed over his missing friend had prayed long, and hard about it before ultimately deciding to put it at the back of his mind...for now. For now he would blend in, and soon seek answers to the question of what happened to her, and if Nelson was right...maybe some of the other patients weren't wrong for noticing the missing people. Regardless, he was starving, and had to eat when he noticed Melody choosing to sit next to him he smiled. "Its going quite well Melody, what about you?" Nelson asked, but before she had the chance to respond a horrid squeel came from the center of the cafetaria. It didn't take long for anyone to find out why as people all around looked to see the janitor had a rat pinned underneath his broom.

The poor creatures tail was trapped underneath the surly mans shoes preventing it from escaping as he grinned. "I finally caught you, after three times I thought I got you, and killed you...this time you stay dead, you filthy rat" he said taunting as he moved to pick the rat up. With that a sickening crunch could be heard followed by an audible gasping of a last breath from the rat. Nelson's worst fears were confirmed as blood at first streamed out of the mans hand. With that Nelson shouted "No, what the hell have you done" as the man threw the rats corpse into a bucket.

He looked up saying "dealing with a pest, got a problem with that?". Nelson glared intensely at the man thinking of what to do next before looking at the door. Within a second he grabbed the bucket, and tried to rush to the door the janitor started coughing up spit in anger "what the hell do you think you are doing kid?". One of the orderlies noticed the spectacle, and sighed "Well, here we go with this again", and started walking towards the two. Nelson managed to pry open the cafetaria door thinking "If I just get to the garden despite it being cold outside, I can save the rats life If I am quick enough", a tear started streaming down his cheek as the janitor gave chase.

by **Talchyon** » Sat Dec 08, 2018 10:02 pm

Dr. Feng Xu

Delayed and in a sour mood due to the snow, Dr. Xu had gotten to the hospital later than intended. With all the work that had to be done, coming in at 8:12 a.m. was not an option. He had put his heavy coat in the hallway closet. Then getting the computer booted up so he could check if anything important was in his inbox. That done, Xu looked on at the newest test subject. It was a short, Hispanic lady, age 32, but looked 10 years older. The anesthetics had taken affect on her, and she was drowsy. Lying on the elevated bed in the room encased by the glass, she lay still and out of it, and not only because she was tightly strapped in with the thick leather of a muzzle put around her mouth.

Dr. Xu, though frustrated by the weather outside and his schedule thrown off, nonetheless was feeling better than he had in a long time. Yesterday he had been close! He had almost gotten it, he was sure of it. Until he had accidentally triggered the explosion and charred the lab. Good thing the hospital had several to work from, and good thing anything typed in went straight to the cloud and was saved automatically. Of course, it was encrypted, and since Xu didn't want anyone stealing his work and taking credit for what he himself had done, he typed all his notes in Mandarin shorthand. That, plus the encryption, put his mind at ease. Even if someone could hack into the system and found his work, they would have a hell of a time deciphering any of it. Even if they spoke Mandarin, that didn't mean they understood shorthand, which to them would look like gibberish.

The cloud had saved the progress he had made on the last patient. And that meant he could see where he had gone wrong, and what was the step he had taken that had led to the malfunction. She was one he wouldn't forget. Her dark red hair was a predictable sign for someone whose ability was fire generation. After he had accidentally triggered the mechanism in her DNA structure, she had reacted. And the lab went up in a scorching fireball. The protective measures that were in place had held up long enough for Xu to seek cover. But the fireblast destroyed the lab he had been working with - the second in six months now. And as for she herself? Well, Xu had done what was needed to dispose of her charred dead body, just like he had done with all the others.

How many was that now this month? Only five?

The latest patient, however, should put up no such trouble like that. Besides the fact that she was out, she had a unique condition with her ability. Yes, she was an earth manipulator, and had been the one to cause yesterday's tremors. But the thing about her, this so-called Mrs. Villaseñor, was that it required her to be agitated, and for the adrenaline in her system to fuel it. As long as she remained nice and sleepy, they should be fine.

If only he could get a leg up on the time that he had missed.

by **Zjaum** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 8:54 am

"Oh. It tried to get away. And now it's dead." Melody noted about the rat catatonically, brushing her fork across her morning meal. "He's going to bury it. Or eat it. I heard they make for good food."

She took a bite of her hash browns. It was warm. She needed something cold. She felt the metal bars underneath the table. It was cold and refreshing. He put the back of her hand, then the front of her hand on the hard legs of her seat. Her friend was gone. The room was getting emptier. Fewer supervisors, fewer guests. More voices in her head to compensate for the silence.

She got off her seat began to wander around, her meal still largely uneaten. She bumped through the cafeteria door to watch the chase. It was gone. So was he. So was the janitor. So was the orderly. Perhaps for good? Maybe she was seeing things. Perhaps they were still there, and she just couldn't see them. Who knows? She leaned away from the door, and it shut behind her with a familiar click. "They've all left us," she muttered.

She walked over to a place with more friends. They didn't stop her the first time; there was probably too much on their hands to worry about her switching tables. She set her breakfast in the center and hopped herself onto the table itself. "I do enjoy the potatoes," she stated meekly. She flipped her hair and surveyed its color. Blonde. She kicked her legs up and surveyed her newfound acquaintances through the loose strands. They were a little older than her. One was her height, roughly, while the other was average. The tall one had yellow hair. Like her. The other was... it looked light brownish. Maybe blonde; who could know?

She shuffled around, trying to get a better cushion on the impeccably flat surface. She looked closer at Belinda, her loose strands dangling over Belinda's food. She laughed and smiled. "How was your day today?"

by **Auphelia** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 7:21 pm

Talchyon wrote:
Time Skip

8:12 a.m.
Cafeteria

Rex Burke came to Belinda's room, and brought the sulking patient to get her breakfast. After going through the line and getting her tray, she sat down, muttering to herself. She wasn't going to eat any of it, just like she hadn't for days now. Convinced that there was a medicine ground up and put in the food, Belinda was going to be hard to change her mind. The rumbling in her stomach was getting harder to ignore, though. But she soldiered her way through the meal time by thinking of Kevin and what had happened to him. She was hoping Lupe and Eleanor - and anyone else they might have convinced - to join her. Today was the day! The one good thing about today was that she was going to do it. She was going to escape, but she needed as many with her as possible. They'd have to whisper their plans together at breakfast time, lest the psychiatric staff heard them. But no matter. A small smile spread over the deranged woman's face.

Sure enough, Lupe came over. The attractive woman was flirting with the orderlies as they passed by. But with her tray, she sat down beside Belinda and began pretending to eat. She knew. Belinda leaned over and said, "Tonight. Tonight I'm going to break out. And anyone who wants to come is fine, but we need to plan it."

Lupe merely nodded, her head low and her face impassive. "Sounds good to me. They've been keeping things from us. All I want is to find out what happened to us."

Eleanor

She shuffled over to the table where Belinda and her small band of merry miscreants were plotting to escape perhaps the safest possible place for them. Belinda had deflected her questions yesterday, saying that they would plan everything today, which also happened to be the same day as the escape. It didn't seem to be a very wise decision, but who was she to question her fellow patients? They are all stark raving mad, after all. The trouble was, no amount of logic could work around what she had seen and what she knew of herself. It didn't make any sense that Belinda had fused those items together. It had been a terrible few hours while she tried to imagine what sort of powers she might have. She knew she sometimes heard things better than some people, but that didn't seem like much of a power. She had her hallucinations, which were about as far from a power as anyone could get. Who wanted to see random flashes of people they knew or places that seemed familiar? Or voices . . . the voices . . . it was then that she had screamed. For minutes, her raw cry echoed throughout her room.

At least, that's what it felt like. It barely felt like a whisper to her throat, and no one came running. Somehow she knew that she was the only one who could hear herself. As soon as she made the connection between some sort of sensory input power and her hallucinations, she had put together every other piece of information she had into one cohesive theory.

Belinda had talked about the food having medication in it, which must obviously be the bitter things in the midst of her food. Her food must have been blander than everyone else's because they were purposefully trying not to alert her to the medicine, as it must logically be too faint for anyone else to taste. If she hadn't been taking the medications for a while, that would explain the increase in her loss of mental state and the recent increase of medicine in her food. The lack of medicine obviously wasn't helping with her memories, which must mean it either wasn't linked to the medication or whatever blocked their pasts stayed in their systems far longer, which didn't seem likely. In that case, leaving might mean never learning about her past. But at the same time . . . if she stayed, how long would it be before the hospital discovered she wasn't taking her medications? What if she made a mistake and they took her away like the poor woman yesterday?

Dawn had almost broken by the time her mind was finally forced to sleep by her exhaustion, and thankfully the day started late. If the grumblings of the few orderlies were true, there was some sort of snow storm last night and access in and out of the hospital was not good.

She sat down at the table, seated across from Belinda and began to flex her power again. It felt strange, almost like a thin bubble extending around the small group of them. She could feel it swelling slightly and deflating with every surge or lapse of energy. A surreal experience, one she had almost no practice using, but one that would have to suffice.

"Belinda, Lupe, Melody. I . . . I think I believe you. This is absolutely bonkers and I still don't fully understand it and my mind hurts from understanding what's happening but I do believe you and I know that you shouldn't be eating the food but I can taste it the medicine and no Belinda don't interrupt me or I'll lose my nerve just listen there is a slight bitterness in your food yes I know I'm not whispering I think I can make people not hear or see things or something just trust me what I was trying to say was," she gasped for breath for a second before diving back in. "I can taste the bitterness but the rest of you can't so give me a part of each of your meals and I can see what has been medicated and what isn't so you can finally eat and also this is too much for me but if we don't escape now there won't be any other chance but there is a snowstorm outside and we'll need much warmer clothes and also I might be able to make us invisible maybe but I need breath!"

She choked a little, but she said what she needed to say. She hadn't realised until she had begun to speak but if she had stopped speaking at any point and allowed herself to think any more about it she would have backed out of the plan. She wasn't an escapist. She wanted to escape and couldn't trust the hospital, given what she now knew, but this was also the only place she knew. What was outside of these walls? Would they survive if they even did escape?

And perhaps most importantly, what horrible fate would they suffer if they got caught?

Delirium (Meta, Mystery, WB, Escape?) - IC, Dead

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