Annie’s Comments (group member since Nov 09, 2011)

Annie’s comments from the St. Peter's Asylum group.

Me: Hello!!!! College has kept me incredibly busy but I'm home for the summer & incredibly bored and I've been itching to write all semester! as forewarning, I need to spend some time revamping the characters I want to keep, and my writing skills may take some time to come back because I haven't written fiction in a LONG time.

Me: Hello! Anyone here? I'm home for the summer & incredibly bored.

Me: I absolutely love Poe! I think she's very interesting. With an older character, RPs can get very interesting :)

Me: Absolutely! That would be great, perhaps once we finish up one of our current RPS :)

Also, I happened to have lost your number; if you still have mine, it should be the same and you can text me if you'd like :)

Me: ALSO, don't mind the new name change. I figured it's about time I actually make this real instead of some penname I developed when I was 12. If you'd still like to call me Iso out of habit,
that's entirely fine :)

Me: Sorry Hope! I provided replies and I LOVE Perse :)

Morgan found it hard to be calm around Poe as she continued to speak; Poe spoke in riddles, and Morgan had never once met someone who spoke in riddles who brought good things to her. New like a mouse, not flowering time? What even was flowering time? Morgan was very confused, and she brought her hand back as she felt Poe move away from it; she linked it with her own and set both in her lap. The feel of the red satin felt nice on her skin; this was indeed one of her favorite dresses. The nurses told her it made her look like one of those little girls from horror movies, and even Raven had told her before that he loved the look of red on her (granted, Raven liked the look of blood on her, and she knew that blood was red. But Raven was an issue for another time). The feel of the red satin made her forget that she was worried about this stranger in front of her, so close to her. Strangers were worrisome and dangerous.

"Are you..." Morgan hesitated, not exactly knowing what she wanted to ask, not knowing how to ask what she wanted to ask. "Are you bad?"

"Oops."

But it was not a real oops, it was not something that expressed a sincere apology. It was an "oops" accompanied by a grin, a little wink, and a sing-song tone of voice. It was the "oops" of a child who got caught opening the cookie jar. It was a smug "oops."

Rosalind leaned back then, though she kept her legs pressed close to Carlos's, and she reached her hands up to tousle her hair a little; as it dried it didn't form into ringlets the way she wanted. Without red lipstick, she could easily have been mistaken for any of the other girls. But Rosalind was here, and Rosalind had just "inadvertently" told Carlos that sweet, sweet Tobie had a cute little crush on him. "Did I say that out loud?" she said, feigning innocence and batting her eyelashes. "Whoopsy-daisy. That's not gonna go o'er well with the girls up here."

"Hmm." Zoya frowned. There wasn't much you could say to a confession like that. Clearly apologies were not what Jason was looking for, nor condolences, and Zoya wasn't the type to congratulate him on the murders that stuck him in here. "I see."

Zoya stepped forward slightly, and seated herself upon the bed that Jason was kneeling beside. She kicked one leg over the other, and leaned forward, once again putting her face fairly close to Jason's, but not as intimidatingly as she had before. "What are you diagnosed with, Mr. Turner? If I may ask, that is." She was curious; murders could mean a lot of things. Raven had murdered, but he was diagnosed with sadism and psychopathy. His sister Anna was diagnosed with just general "insanity". There were many other patients here who had killed for various reasons; and as odd as it was that Zoya had not seen Jason's file once, that only made her even more curious.

Me: Sorry Hope, I've been crazy busy this week. I'll try and dole out replies soon!

Morgan heard the voice come closer, heard the voice come directly in front of her, and she sighed as she realized she had not in fact located the voice correctly at first. She reached a hand out, reaching for something of substance, something she could associate with this girl, with this Poe. Her hands found the girl's shoulders, and Morgan herself jumped slightly, not realizing just how close the girl was at first. "Poe, you said?" Morgan asked, gently, curiously; it was odd, this girl seemed so childish in the eyes of this seven year old, but the girl was clearly much older than her. "Are you new?"

Oh, this Carlos was quite fun. Rosalind enjoyed seeing him squirm a little, she enjoyed the nervousness in his voice and the discomfort in his jolt. She especially enjoyed how she could hear his breath quicken and feel him tense up when she gave his thigh a little squeeze. Rosalind moved closer, her legs brushing against his, but she didn't raise them into his lap, no, she wasn't that cruel. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, and pressed her lips to his neck with a little grin.

"You're quite fun to toy with, do you know that darlin'?" Rosalind all but purred, her words warm against the skin of his neck, her hand warm against his thigh, her legs warm against his, even her body warm pressed up against his, separated by two scarce towels. "I suppose I can see why Sweet Tobie's got a little crush on ya."

"I've told you," Rosalind said, shifting the towel so that she held it up underneath her arm, and so that it covered enough that she could turn to face Carlos. "I didn't know this was your shower time, so I wasn't lookin' for you in particular," she drawled, her grin growing wider and her voice growing coyer as Carlos' spirits were visibly lifted. "Noooooow, as for what I would have done if someone else had walked in during this time?" she posed, and she reached a hand up at this time to twirl one of her curls around her fingers. "Now that's a different story," she said with a little giggle and a wiggling of her eyebrows. "Would you rather me tell you, or shooooow you?" Rosalind grinned, and leaned closer to Carlos, got her face right up next to his, even went so far as to rest her hand on his thigh. She offered him a little smirk, a wink. "What's it gonna be, darlin'?"

Oh, Tobie is absolutely going to kill me later... worth it.

Rosalind held true to her word and didn't turn her head until she heard Carlos approach her; she couldn't have seen anything if she wanted to anyways, the steam had been so high from the temperature she initially turned the water to. She was much oblidged, however, to get her fill of Carlos, the part of him exposed by the towel, his chest which was still dripping from the shower and was quite a sight to behold. Maybe that's what Tobie liked him for. When she heard him speak, much more jovial now, and when she saw his little smile flash, her spirits were lifted, and the promise of a game returned and brightened her outlook. Rosalind grinned in return, and held her hand out. "If you can spare me a towel, I'll happily cover up if that's what you want me to do." She then unwrapped her arms from around her body, allowing herself to sit in front of Carlos with her chest completely exposed, though her legs were still crossed enough to hide that area. "Unless, of course, now that you're less crabby, you mind this a little less?" With this, Rosalind gave Carlos a little wink.

"Just one," Zoya said, now curious. If this Jason was as violent and threatening as he claimed to be, how had she just now hear of him? Patients like Jason were the first on her list, and were her top priority when it came to scheduling appointments. "Why haven't I seen you yet?" she asked.

"My name is Zoya," she continued, "Zoya Volkov. I'm the asylum's therapist; I've been here for a couple of years providing individual appointments with each of the patients. And I mean each of them. So how is it that you, Mr. Turner, have avoided my radar? Especially if you're as dangerous as you claim to be?" Her words weren't threatening, they weren't accusations, it was simple curiosity. If this boy had managed to go unnoticed by her for years, he must certainly have been an interesting case, something she would love to work with, someone she would love to work with.

Had Morgan been able to see Poe's gestures, it would have been an instant response, and instant understanding. But of course, the little girl could not see, and so Poe's words only confused Morgan more. The little blonde knit her brows and cocked her head to one side, still not looking at Poe, still looking far too far to the right. Morgan wracked her brain for an answer to this puzzle, for an answer to what you call the little bee. Was there an actual bee in here? No, Morgan thought, she couldn't hear an actual bee.

Morgan only reached a conclusion because she thought of Raven, and the strange, foreign words that he called her, words that made her tongue twist and her head hurt. Perhaps "little bee" was a sort of nickname? Perhaps she was the little bee? "Me? Are you talking about me?" she asked, and she kicked her leg over the other as to position herself more towards where she thought Poe was standing; in reality, she turned slightly away from the girl.

"I'm called Morgan," she said, returning the strange way of speak as Poe.

Yvonne did not like Raven's smile. It was the smile of a murderer, the same satisfaction that some got from drawing blood and leaving bruises. She found herself wondering what unfortunate woman found herself on the other end of that smile all too frequently... or perhaps women. She wouldn't put much past this boy, not with what she had learned of him in the few short minutes it took the guard that wasn't Stefan to grab her registration charts.

She didn't know what question to ask, and with only three, she had to be careful. Should she ask about Raven himself? No, she could tell already that that would only end poorly. Should she ask about the way things worked around here? Yes, but what exactly? There were so many questions she wanted answers to, but so many that seemed stupid and not worth one of her three free pieces of advice.

Luckily, Yvonne did not have to make her decision just yet. As she sat there, thinking, pondering, making eye contact with Raven, the other guard walked back in through the doors that showed the interior of St. Peter's. "Miss Dubois," called the guard as he and Stefan walked up to where she was sitting on the couch. He seemed wary, but Yvonne was feeling much more amiable now that the tranquilizing drugs had set in, and she turned her head up towards them and smiled quizzically. "We have to take you to get registered into the system, and to assign you a room." The guard eyed Raven nervously, as if he knew that interrupting in such a way was not going to end well.

Yvonne looked back to Raven, and she shrugged. "Sorry, mon cher, looks like I'll have to wait until next time to play your trivia game." The Frenchwoman stood, and smiled at the Indian; with her wild hair and the still slightly feral look in her eyes, her smile was not welcoming, but it intended to be. "I'll see you around, cher. I won't forget our little engagement here." And Yvonne winked, and blew Raven a kiss, and then allowed the guards to take her by either arm and lead her out of the common room.

((Fade?))

Rosalind sighed; Carlos was clearly in no mood to play games

(God, he was no fun! What did Tobie see in him?)

but perhaps it was simply too early in the morning? She herself was quite the early riser-- it gave her a better chance of taking the body for the day. But if Carlos weren't a morning person, why would he pick such an early shower time? It didn't add up. Rosalind wasn't used to rejection, at least not the kind she was receiving from Carlos here and now.

"Fine," she said, still a little flirt to her voice, but much much less than before. "I'll let you shower, if that's what you really want." And Rosalind stripped the towel from what scarcity of her form it had been covering, and tossed it back at Carlos. The naked girl headed towards the corner of the room, the seats by the entrance that she may have been better served to frequent today, and there she sat, arms crossed over her chest and legs crossed over one another. "I won't even look," she said as she turned her head away from Carlos for the sake of decency; while she may not have cared how much of her may have been exposed, she did not need to make Carlos hate this body, for Tobie's sake.

Rosalind knit her brows together, and leaned even closer to Carlos, so that his arm nearly rested in between her breasts. And Rosalind sighed. "Carlos, darlin', why are you mad at meeeeeee?" she whined, pulling on his arm as if she were a child begging for her mother's attention. "I'm not showing off, I didn't know it was your shower time! I'd have never been allowed in here if we knew it was your time slot." And Rosalind tapped the side of her head, to indicate that she meant her sisters wouldn't have let her out if her intention was to come and find Carlos. "Do I really bother you that much?" she pouted. His tone was stern, unwavering, almost harsh, something she was not used to hearing, especially not from Carlos.

Me: I agree. She needs someone she has a strong relationship to, she needs something exciting to happen to her or because of her, etc. The problem is no one really has ties to Phoenix, and writing brand new interactions every time gets tedious yknow?