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Here is the cafeteria for patients with the doctors' recommendations. They are able to have more choice over their foods. The white tables and benches are in slightly better condition than elsewhere.

This was so not worth it. Jada had been good, but it wasn't on purpose. It was just because she's had no real desires that went against the rules. But now she was thinking that she should act out on purpose now. There were more people here, and she hated new people. Hell, people in general were a major no-no in her book.

Besides, the burger in her hands was over-cooked and just nasty. She dropped it back onto her tray with a snort of disgust, especially as the end of the burger not covered by the bun made a loud bang as it hit the tray. She picked up a fry and idly dragged it through her puddle of ketchup, leaving a streak of red on the grey tray when she lifted it. She took a bite, surveying the area from her comfortable vantage point in the back corner area.

(OPEN for any and all and as many as want to!)

((I'm gonna read her profile - who do you want of mine? Minus Zackary, they're all free.))

((UM Alexander or Jackson I'd say))

Ruby had taken a seat at a nearby table, talking to herself again. She hadn't touched her food and truthfully she was starting to get anorexic although she was only at the young age of eight. She giggled as she continued to talk to the voice inside her head. "You're silly," she said and waited for a response. She giggled again as she got one, practically radiating childhood and naivety. To normal people it would be impossible to imagine her as a killer, but she wouldn't be there if she hadn't.

((Absolutely going with Jackson))

Jackson entered the cafeteria. When he was younger he had always fancied what going to school in America would be like, and he supposed it was a lot like this. Oh well, better late than never. He scanned the room, there were not a lot of students in there to be honest, but it was too early to start the games. He had to get a feel for everyone first.

Spotting a young woman and a child sat near each other, he wandered over. The child was talking to herself, clearly schizophrenic, and that also meant she was inordinately safe to be around. He couldn't speak for the woman, but then that was another story. Jackson lifted his hand and let it drop onto the child's head.

"Tell those silly friends of yours to let you eat your dinner in peace," he chastised, "You look like my baby brother, and my baby brother is an idiot."

He's a bad man... the voices whispered in her ear. She froze, feeling the hand on her head. Ruby was afraid of most of the people in the asylum and the man standing behind her was no exception. Her heart beat practically out of her chest and she gulped. "They say you're a bad man. They say that I shouldn't trust you," she said turning around to face him. He didn't look that dangerous but she understood that everyone there had the capability of hurting her badly; she was just a child after all.

He smirked and knelt down in front of her, an enigmatic smile playing at his lips. "Girly you shouldn't trust anyone. And in your case I wouldn't even trust yourself." He dropped his tray onto the table and lifted a sandwich, popping it into his mouth and chewing with satisfaction. It wasn't what was usually served, and the cafeteria ladies were not easily swayed but then, Jackson failed to remember a time when he didn't get what he wanted. And he was not eating whatever infested slop they were feeding the rest of the inmates. Just because they were too loopy to care.

Jackson wasn't loopy at all, but even he preferred asylum to prison. And he doubted he could prove his sanity even if he wanted to.

Ruby frowned, but stayed quiet. Run, run away while you still can, the voices whispered. "Shut up," she growled, which was unlike her. The small girl stared down at her plate and mostly just glared at her food, wanting the voices to go away for just one second. One second of peace and quiet. She played with a strand of long, blonde hair and thought. She was trying to ignore the man who was kneeling next to her.

From his seat at the table, his eyes moved around the room so fast that only a hawk would have been able to catch on to it. He chewed his food slowly, lifting the hot coffee to his lips. Patients were not allowed hot drinks but like with the sandwiches, he had pulled a few strings. He set it back down again and began to hum lightly, he had no real need to befriend a mere child, but perhaps by doing so, the staff would presume him a kind and gentle man.

Not likely. Whatever. He looked at her again. "Ignore the voices for a few minutes," he suggested, "If you don't eat you'll die, and I promise you this, the lunatics here would rather eat your dead body than the food they serve here."

She shrugged, not really caring. "That sound disgusting but if I'm dead then I wouldn't really care. You know why? I'm dead." She took notice of the man's odd exterior. He had a calm and almost normal look to him but if he was ever so normal, then why would he be there? She stared at him, trying to figure him out. She began to try to ignore the voices, but they pushed at her mind.

(Can I join guys?)

((Sure, it's open to all last I checked.))

Vector's cold gray eyes scanned the room as he munched on his evening meal. If you could call it that,. When he was free he was able to dine on equiste meals of high class Au muse buch and Cre minion but but now was forced to swallow the Asylum trifle. Sad isn't it. But something of far greater interest appeared in his vision, a psycopath and a young schizophrenic. This was gonna be entertaining.

Jada knew most of the other inmates didn't know what to think of her, and that was nothing short of perfect in her opinion. She was unpredictable. She looked over at the man who had joined them, pulling her legs up to cross them underneath her on the bench. Her gaze dropped down to her tray again, and she idly picked up the fork and spun it between two fingers. Maybe she could get this jackass to leave her alone by seeming more crazy thn she was- which was actually not really at all. And if she had to follow through with her threat, well, she'd done worse.

"Have you ever wondered how much force it takes to get this fork through a person's hand?" she wondered aloud, her gaze drifting to where Jackson's hand lay on the table, then up to his eyes. Her dark brown ones were challenging, the only thing betraying her little ruse of complete craziness. Not that sh wouldn't actually stab him. Atleast then she'd get time away from the crazies.

"Not that many," he mused. He put his hand further out on the table and gave her an enigmatic smile. "Go ahead if you feel the need." She was trying to intimidate him, but it wouldn't work. She was clearly a lunatic, and a very small threat to him. She could attack him, it had already happened several times, but physical attacks were always uninteresting. Common.

"Well to on," he offered, like he was waiting impatiently in line for coffee, "I don't have all day, now do I?"

Jada didn't break eye contact as she slammed it down, but she couldn't be too predictable. She winced only slightly as it went through her hand, finally breaking away from his gaze to look down at her now impaled hand. She wrenched th fork out-it had imbedded into the table through her hand- and flexed her fingers experimentally, looking thoughtful.

"Less than I thought. Wasn't that bad, actually. Been through worse." She shrugged, speaking as though she was reporting to a fellow scientist. She flashed him a brilliant smile, setting the bloodied fork down on the table next to her tray. Her gaze was sharply intelligent as she looked back at him. Hm. He'd be fun to play with, she mused. Not easily intimidated, obviously. There was potential for entertainment.

He smiled and picked up the fork in contemplation, running his finger across the fork , and staring at the blood like it was a flower. "Your blood is pale," he mused, "As blood goes, I mean." He touched the tip of his finger to his tongue for a moment. "And I don't know what they dope you up on, but that is a no from me." He put his sandwich to his mouth again, dropping the bloody fork onto the table.

"People who mutilate themselves," he told her as if she didn't already know, "Are interesting people. I don't get it personally, I'd much rather mutilate other people."

"Most don't deserve it." Jada shrugged. "I mean, yeah it's not a huge deal to do it anyway. But for the most part, it's not worth it." she paused, a wicked grin crossing her face as she studied the blood. "The ones I was truly invested in are, shall we say, already taken care of."

She paused for a moment, looking quite pleased with herself even as she pressed her thumb and forefinger of in intact hand over the two sides of her now bleeding one. Then she refocused in on him, smirking. "Oh you wouldn't believe how much I'm on. Being a, quote, 'homicidal, suicidal, sadistic sociopath" tends to get you a lot." she mused aloud.

"Ane you know what?" Jada leaned over the table towards him conspiratorially, crooking a finger slightly in th classic 'come here' motion. "I was totally worth it, even ending up here. I mean, sure it was fun to knock off dear old mommy and the famed older brothers, but the way daddy screamed at first..." she smiled in satisfaction, picking up th fork and twirling it between her two fingers, closing her eyes as if listening to Bach or Beethoven. "Oh, he was fun to play with. And boy did I have time before cops got there..."

There. That was probably crazy enough acting to get him to leave her alone. She wasn't as crazy as she pretended to be, but she was most definitely not all right. As in, crazy enough to be complete truthful in her words and satisfaction at murdering her family. But sane enough she had her reasons to do it.

Ruby had stopped paying attention as soon as the fork had hit human flesh. She was staring down at her hands in her lap, muttering to herself. Kill them. Kill all of them. You'd be doing the world a favor, they whispered. She shook her head slightly. "I can't kill them though, there's three and they're so much bigger than me," She said a bit louder than she meant to. You killed your parents and brother just fine. She sighed and shook her head again.

"Ah the classic 'I murdered my family' line," he mused affectionately, "I killed my parents too, but that's a small fraction of my offense. It's a shame you were caught before you could explore your psyche further, love, because I had many a year in that similar delight." Oh it was true Jackson could kill without any motive at all and still enjoy it, but it always gave him more satisfaction to get something more out of it than simply the thrill of the kill. He had much higher aspirations than that. He was not as ordinary as his psychotic little brother.

Glancing casually to the side he ruffled the blonde girl's head again. "That's right, once those friends of yours get a better grasp on that logic they'll be of much more use to you."

"Ah, well." Jada shrugged slightly, "Sociopathic, remember?" She smiled a bit. "I'm defined as spontaneous, not really thinking ahead to the future. At that point..." She shrugged yet again, tugging the collar of her shirt down just a bit to reveal the start of the jagged scar. She smiled slightly, looking a bit wary as she studied him. A lot of people just liked her less because of that little bit, or thought her odd. Or even beneath their notice.

"Let's just say that now, because they showed up, I can have a chance again. If they hadn't? I wouldn't have been hurting anyone else any time soon." She laughed, a touch bitterly, as she released her shirt and rested her hands in her lap. She shook herself a bit, studying him. "So. You know I'm a sociopath, what about you?" She asked curiously.

"Hm," he mused once more, "I'm fairly whimsical myself. Never taken a knife to myself though. As long as there are games to be played, I shall live, and when I am truly bored, I will die. Life is really just that simple, isn't it?" He chucked to himself for a moment. "Then again, someone else taking a knife to my throat is a different story. Thoroughly entertaining - not many people would actually be able to do it you see. Not here though... that's the brilliance of the asylum. Just a flock of lunatics with me at the centre..."

He looked at her and smiled enigmatically once more. "Amazing what you can achieve when you plead insanity, isn't it? Made sense of course; baby brother was clearly out of it. You can call me insane if you like, a psychopath like the 'experts' say, but I prefer to think I'm the sanest person one could ever meet."

"Oh, it'd be easy for me to take someone like you down." Jada laughed, sincerely this time. "But I have no need to. I'm going to let you in on a little secret, darling." Smiling, she leaned a bit closer to him. "Not all of us are cracked." Staring at him pointedly, she raised one eyebrow. "I am not stupid. I know I'm not all right. No one normal would gut their still living father and not feel a thing besides satisfaction."

Lifting her hand slightly, she examined the four holes put in there by the tines of the fork. "I may not be as sane as you, but I assure you, I had my reasons. I'm not one of the people here who just run around stabbing people for no reason. I'm unbalanced, not insane." She pouted slightly, almost mocking. But not really mocking him, just... basically everything besides the two of them.

"It takes more than physical prowess to take down Jackson Anderson, love," he said softly, "The name in itself is power. They put me in here because their tiny little minds couldn't think of any other explanation to why I'd done the things I have. I'm not a psychopath, I'm a criminal overlord." He wiggled his fingers dramatically, echoing the words of his prosecutors. Of course they had lost; Jackson had infiltrated every house and every family and every politician across the hemisphere. Jackson wasn't there because he had to be, he was there because he wanted to be.

"And everyone is insane," he told her, "Sanity is just a word they throw about so people can sleep at night, where they dream pictures of things that aren't real like the little lunatics they all are. I know they're insane, because when I kill them, they scream. Seldom do I find a man who doesn't cower at the end of a knife. Have you ever killed a stranger? It's a nice bonding experience; no one ever knew them better than you did in their last moments."

"Jackson, hm?" Jada nodded slightly. "The name suits you. I'm Jada. Oh, and I'm no one's 'love'." She warned, but her voice was almost cheerful. Finally. Someone that she could actually have an intelligent conversation with. She twirled a French Fry through her ketchup again, taking a thoughtful bite at the end.

"Knives aren't scary to me. I've felt one, and it wasn't the worst thing I've been through. There are far easier ways to break a person, Jackson Anderson." She made a slight 'tsk'ing sound, setting the rest of her fry down on her tray. Having already taken note of his extra privileges, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Go ask for a knife, and I can promise you it won't faze me."

Before he said anything, she shook her head. "It's not that I have a death wish or anything melodramatic, but this place is so boring! I can't stand it! Everyone here is so dense and dull. Or a jackass." She sighed, her almost pout sincere this time. "There's nothing to do, and I am a person who needs something to do. When I have to fall back on my own thoughts, well, it's really not pleasant."

Jackson smiled. He knew there were other ways to break a person, but he wouldn't call them easier. There was nothing simpler than a single knife slicing through flesh. "You can't just hack into yourself whenever you're bored," he told her airily, "Testing your pain endurance is interesting indeed, reminds me of the time I built up my own poison immunity, but still - and of course they're dull. They've all been medically lobotomized, or literally in some cases, I know they put the schizos in almost as soon as they get here." He patted the child's head for good measure. "But I'm afraid I cannot share your sentiment, I often like my own thoughts, they are rather brilliant." The statement would have seemed arrogant, only there was no arrogance in his tone. He picked up the little plate with the slice of cake on it and looked at it thoughtfully. The woman behind the food counter had found him sweet because he had wanted her to, and this was his reward. He set it down across from Jada. "You've got to have your cake and eat it too, love," he told her, "This place can be whatever you want it to be... Mainly whatever I want it to be, but the only real prison here is your own mind."

"Again with the 'love,' nicknames?" Jada sighed with mock drama, but smiled as she looked up at him. So maybe this combined area wasn't all that horrible. "Aren't you just all humble." She chuckled, her gaze dropping to the cake. She studied it a moment, but didn't move to take it. "How long have you been here, Jackson?" She asked curiously, shifting her position. Since the table was next to the wall, now she was leaning against the wall parallel to the bench, her knees folded and pulled up in front of her. She still faced him, curious and happy to continue conversing with him. For once.

"A culturally learned behaviour, don't take it seriously," he informed her, taking another sandwich and eating it with practiced bites. "My little brother was referred here two years ago, I have been here for around seven months. His insanity was a lot more obvious than my own, but there you go. The accommodation is rather poor for my tastes, but at least it doesn't hurt when I get angry and punch walls... I hear you're supposed to do that when you're crazy." He placed his chin in his hand thoughtfully. "I think when I'm released from here I'll buy this place, put proper beds in here. Make my army of cuckoos ready to fight all my battles with the logic of insanity. And you?"

"Well, I'm crazy and I promise I haven't done any wall-punching lately." Jada chuckled slightly, brushing back a strand of her near-black hair. "Hand stabbing, yes, but that's a whole other ballgame." She grinned, rubbing her previously self-impaled hand. "Ten days." She sighed, seeming to zone out for a moment as she thought. Then she shook her head to snap herself back and stared at him.

"I am going to assume that you really don't care about me, though." She said shrewdly. "That coffee, cake, and sandwich tell me that you are the type to just use others for yourself. So please don't treat me as if I'm stupid and don't realize that you don't care about me as a person, just what kind of asset I can be." She sighed. Looking down and picking at her nails, she now seemed completely disinterested in him. But she was listening.

"You underestimate the power a human holds, Jada," he told her, "Everyone can be used to some advantage, even indirectly. For example, I don't need to charm all the dinner ladies here, just the leader will do, and they will all conform. Humans make up a network, you see, like a spiders web. That's why I came here - if you look, you'll see there are no networks. These people aren't civilised enough for that; I have to take them down individually." He smirked. "I do love a challenge, don't you? I suppose I'll tire of it eventually, I always do, but the world is full of very boring people, Jada."

He picked up the fork and dug it into the cake, looking at her casually as he ate it. "There isn't a single boring person in this place. Ordinary people are adorable, but I'm done with cute for now. There are bigger fish to fry here, and I'm going to burn the heart out of them all. Care to watch?"

((That excessive Moriarty quote was UNECESSARY))

((Every Sherlock Watcher/Fan is blowing up right now. XD))

((I am in a room of my Locky friends, it was inevitable that it would happen, but still - someone please help me. They tried to make me dress him in a crown. ITS A NO FROM ME. *sob*))

((LOL))

((....The fact that it was Moriarty was mostly why I wanted to RP with him...))

"...You do realize that you only just confirmed what I said?" Jada sighed, scooping up more ketchup using a french fry and popping it into her mouth. She studied him, dark eyes narrowing. "I don't want to be used, Jackson." Not again. "I am not that kind of person." She folded her arms over her chest, pushing her tray away. Her rock-like burger was still on it, not that she cared anymore.

((I could have been worse and called him Horiarty))

"It is use or be used," said Jackson, "There are no sidelines to sit on in life; someone will always find some sort of use for you eventually. Besides, you make it sound like I'm going to sell you into slavery." He smirked. "It's an option, technically, but I won't. I'm not hear to spin my web, I'm here to play games." He ate his cake slowly, it being one of his favourite confectionery items. In a world full of crazy people they can be used for little but my own amusement, like a compound full of rag dolls just waiting to be tossed around. He smirked at the food.

"If you want something different next time, tell the waitress her hair looks nice today." Worked a charm for him, after all.

((*Spits out drink*))

"I'm not stupid. I know. The problem is 90 percent of the ones that I see-including her-.... well they don't swing to me." Jada smirked slightly. "They're careful, I'll give them that. A lot of the guys don't swing my way either." She mock pouted, mostly to hide her slight shudder. Men. It wasn't fair that they were so much stronger than them. 'Them' being females in general. "My games don't involve others as my pawns, darling."

((Sorry! I lost this in my notifications!))

"Chess was always my favourite," he mused, "Riskier. I expect you're more of a solitaire kind of girl. Situational, not personal. I indulge in the same from time to time but I just love people. They're magnificent." He chuckled at her comment about the 'swinging' and picked up the cherry. "You see, I don't have that problem. It's rather easy to cast of oneself and take on a new disguise. The trick is to know what they want..."

"Actually, besides that, I'm rather fond of Scrabble or Backgammon." Jada mused thoughtfully, cracking her knuckles. She laughed a bit as he spoke on how to manipulate people. "I am queen of manipulating people when I have to. Lying is part and partial to being who I am, and just plain having fun. But the best lies? Those are the ones that people come up with themselves. Darlin', I'm going to tell you something almost no one believes." She sighed slightly and leaned forward. "These people believe that I killed my... sister. I didn't. But it was easier to go with that then try and explain the truth. Besides, 'killing' a 7 year old girl was probably the difference between here and jail."

"I can't say I really partook in the murder of children," he reasoned, "Not for any particular reason. I threw a baby off a cliff once, but that was in hilarious circumstances. Woman threw herself off right after the little thing." He popped the cherry into his mouth and spit the pip back out shortly after. "I believe you. Why would you lie about that? You seem pretty proud with the rest of it. Question though, you killed your... sister? I said before I love people, love, I know how they work. She yours? A product of rape perhaps, or general promiscuity. You seem young to suggest much otherwise."

Jada stiffened, freezing up and looking both terrified and furious. How much of the truth should she really tell him? Her words were slow, obviously well thought out, but also tense. She was really really really not comfortable with this, and it was plain as day. "In all technicalities, she is my sister." She forced out through clenched teeth, refusing to look at him. She wasn't exactly thinking about what he could read on her, and she didn't care.

So in other words, yes she was. Jackson smirked, tapping his fingers on the table in a triumphant manner. "Touchy subject," he mused, "Never mind, it's human nature to feel uncomfortable with certain topics. Not everyone is as open as I am... Tell me though, if you didn't kill your 'sister' how did the little bitch die?" His choice of words was purposeful and he said them with integrity. She was an interesting specimen indeed, but everyone had a weak point in some shape or form, and this 'sister' of hers seemed to be the key.

At this point, Jada had flatly given up arguing with him. She stared down at her hands, one slow tear trickling down her pale cheek. "She didn't do anything." she whispered, her knees pulling up to her chest. "She never did. If I'd have known what they would do... It wasn't even worth the risk." she wiped her cheeks with her hand, trembling. "I can handle myself. I'm used to it. But when they went for my daughter..." Rage flashed in her eyes for a moment, and she clenched her hands so hard that the nails dug into her palm drew little beads of blood to the surface. "Mom and my brothers were easy enough to take care of. But dad got to her, and-" she sniffled, covering her face with her hands.

He arched his eyebrow at her, unaffected by her seemingly uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. "And killed her I presume," mused Jackson, "A shame, but I understand your emotion. I have a little brother. You probably haven't met him, he's shacked up in the Horrifically Insane ward and he is why I'm here. Smile at the fool and he'd spill all my secrets, but I hope he learned his lesson. I think we've reached the point where no one would believe a word that fell out of his mouth. Unlike me, he actually is crazy. Probably my fault." He was trying to lighten the conversation, but then again... "Revenge never ends well, they're dead now and there's no one left to blame - I'd have dragged that one out for years if it was me, but I suppose it's done and dusted now."

Jada raked her hands up and through her long hair, a wicked smile crossing her face for an instant. "I do wish I would have had years as well, but even after five minutes the bastard was begging for me to stop. At first he asked for his life, but after I showed him his intestines... Then he wanted me to just kill him." She seemed pleased with herself, as this topic was a thousand times easier than the other. "And I can still blame them. I could blame them for my eleven years, but mostly I blame them for what they did to Lynn." she sighed slowly, the barest trace of a smirk crossing her face as she looked over at him. "See? I'm not crazy. Unbalanced, I can agree with. But I'm not as psycho as they say I am."

"You have a motive at least," he mused, "Which is more than they can say about me. I personally think I don't need one, there's nothing wrong with playing games, what else is a person to do? Get a job? Get married? None of it appeals to me at all - I don't enjoy ordinary living. Simple, yes, but ordinary... Mmm, it's a no from me." He gave her an enigmatic smirk. "Doesn't matter what I do, there is no heaven and hell for someone who is already a god."

"Nothing appeals to me." Jada shrugged with a slight sigh, picking up her glass of orange juice. It was only like half full, and she swirled the contents around the bottom before taking a drink and setting it back on her tray with a clinking noise. "Board games, books, whatever. They're not worth it, and I've seen that people aren't either. Might as well be here as anywhere out there, or even jail."

"More freedom in prison than here," he said softly, "They treat you better too. I assume you've met the Guards, after all. Brilliant, I absolutely adore them. Now you see, I rather like music, yes, not the drabble they think up these days. Music is way past its prime, but old music... Yes, I do openly indulge in that."