St. Peter's Asylum discussion

Sitting not on the wooden bed--she thought it uncomfortable--but instead upon the floor in a corner of the room at the end of the first floor dormitories, Little Lauren was playing with her dolls. Well, at least to the average person, she was playing with them. She was moving their hands and legs and other limbs as she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"No one's coming, no one's coming. It's only us today."

Her voice was just below a whisper, quiet enough for her alone to hear. It was dark in her mind; the bed, the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Everything. Except the two people holding each of her hands. They were soft colors, though. Nothing bright, nothing that hurt her eyes like how they did. They spoke in soft tones, gentle tones, telling her things. Assuring her. Unlike how they were.

Matthew drummed his fingers against the doorway as he waited for her to open up. "Um. so how long have you been at St. Peters anyways?"

"How long, Mr. Bubbles?" Lauren asked the doll as she plopped herself down on the ground. "I don't know. It's been a long time..."

The blonde boy kneeled down next to her. "I'm sure you'll be out of here soon. You look like your progressing at least..." He wasn't really sure what he should say. He just wanted her out of the dark state.

Lauren's frown deepened; she didn't like it outside. The constant noise bothered her, and it hurt her eyes. She liked the quiet room she had, where no one would bother her. "He thinks I want to get out," she muttered. "He has odd thoughts."

"I'm sorry." he apologized and sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to crease the sheets. "It's hard to figure you out. You don't let me get inside your head much." He watched her fragile fingers toy with the doll.

"He thinks I'm odd, Mr. Bubbles. He thinks I'm odd," she murmured. "But he's the one with odd thoughts." She tugged at her dolls' limbs letting them stand as best the could on the cold ground.

((Sweet dreams, good night))

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" He suddenly asked, finding himself off topic several seconds later. He didn't care though. He liked catching himself randomly.

((Spam diad. If you don't want to talk in Charrie Self then create a spam topic.))

Room 101.
A light rap came on the other side of the door, Morgan standing there in her usual uniform of a white nurse dress and leggings. Everything a spotless white. It was her day to check with these patients and see how they were progressing.

No answer. As usual. Lauren wouldn't dare to open the door to one of them. But they could get in, and that was never good. Mr. Bubbles told her so. She clutched her two dolls as she sat in a corner of her pathetic excuse for a living space.

Morgan expected this, which is why she had a set of keys jingling at her side. It was a wide ring with a huge amount of keys, which made it a hassle to find the one she needed.
The doorknob wiggled as Morgan struggled to open it; this key was particularly tricky. She got in eventually, stepping slowly into the presence the resident that lived here. "Hi Lauren."

((she's got a single dorm))

"Her," Lauen muttered. "Her, Mr. Bubbles." To the average person, that meant nothing. But Morgan was one of the nurses she was more wary of. She disliked her, as did her two dolls. So of course, it was natural fo feel anger towards the nurse

((*edit* You learn something new everyday.))
Morgan closed the door quietly, making her way to a metal folding chair and taking a seat. Lauren was still unresponsive. To people, at least.
"What's your doll saying now?" she questioned after spotting her talking to it.

(( ;) ))
"She thinks you're a doll," Lauren muttered. "A doll." She pulled her dolls closer to her, self-conscious, wary. They might take them this time. She didn't want them to do that. It would be horrid if they did.

((I love how contradicting that post is.))
Morgan refused to leave without getting at least one word from Lauren. "I heard you had a visitor. Were they nice?"

"Nice, yes," Lauren responded, recalling Matthew. "Nice, yes. Odd, odd boy."

"That's good," she said, smile and nods approving. "What did Mr. Bubbles think?" Morgan had learned the name of the little doll when she had tried to take it from the girl.

"Mr. Bubbles thinks so, too," Lauren said, staring down at the dolls. "Mr. Bubbles thinks so too."

Morgan could do nothing more than assume that Lauren meant her doll felt the same way. She glanced the pair of ragdolls, then back to Lauren. She hadn't gotten better with her connection to the inanimate little cloth figures.
"How are Mr. Bubbles and his friend today?" she asked, forgetting the name of the other.

"Mr. Bubbles and his friend?" Lauren repeated curiously. "Mr. Bubbles has a friend?" She looked up, though squinted her eyes, then looked down again. Too bright for her, Morgan was.

"Him," Morgan said, pointing the other doll in Lauren's possession. She didn't want Lauren to become unresponsive again because she'd insulted Mr. Bubbles by calling him a doll. "Are they not friends?"

"Mr. Bubbles and Mr. Bubbles. They're the same Mr. Bubbles," Lauren stated. "They're the same Mr. Bubbles. 0"

Morgan's eyes widened in the slightest at this discovery, perwinkle irides twinkling with satisfaction. She had found something important out, maybe. Perhaps this had more to do with 'Mr. Bubbles' than the dolls themselves. "I see."

"Yes, yes, yes." She glanced up again, still wary of the nurse. She still didn't like her. She thought her questions to be palpable. Lauren had explained it too many times. It made her a bit tired.

Morgan decided not to press Lauren any further today, or else it would be harmful. The patients could get antsy, and sometimes that antsiness turned into dangerous anger. She stood, smiling down at Lauren. "Thank you for talking with me Lauren--and Mr. Bubbles. Bye." She exited the room slowly, leaving the girl with her dolls in the isolation of their room.

"Goodbye," answered Lauren and she turned away from the door to face the wall. It was peaceful, the wall. It was dark, and it didn't pester her the way they did. "Mr. Bubbles, do you have a friend with you?"

((Kat, can you delete this? I deleted Lauren))