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Fantasy Welcome to the asylum!

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She clapped her hands together "ive done basically nothing! Ive looked around the facility and got changed. Did you know this place has a library? Who'd a thunk?" she laughs waiting for everyone to show up still.
 
Ophelia Browne
As soon as the announcement crackled from the overhead speakers, Ophelia's pretty features darkened immeasurably. For a moment, the girl only watched as Kahlil and Kage left, getting up to her feet with the use of the bed behind her and letting out a lamenting sigh. Phelie pulled the hair tie from her volumes of wavy, sweetgum-sap tresses, eyes lingering on Hue. "You'll still teach me, won't you?" Browne tilted her head back to gaze at the painter. "I promise I didn't invite those people or anything -- so you have to keep your side of the deal." She hesitated on the threshold of the doorway, letting her fingertips loosely curl about the frame as the pale-faced girl observed him a moment longer and then promptly vanished. Slipping off into the hallway without so much of a footstep to be heard.

Ophie had known that in relation to the asylum's occupants she'd not done anything worse than crush a few ants in the larger scheme of things. You had criminal masterminds, villains who belonged on a worldwide stage, and a girl with daddy issues. The first time she discovered that to sing could be to lure, was in the years after the incident of her father. A siren was oft born from the cruelty of men, you see, and where she'd survived to tell the tale; death had touched her upon the crown in a baptism of grief.

Ophelia didn't have many clothes of her own considering she'd been on the run when they found her, and soon enough she was wearing an asylum issued a pair of overalls that was one size too big and hung off her slender, willowy frame. The collar sagging beneath a sparrow-like collarbone, with sleeves and trouser-legs hiding away wrists and ankles that could make a Victorian weep. Although, the guards were nice enough to have given her frilly, floral socks which she would adore until the end of time and had gotten her nicknamed 'Dobby' for the love of them.

She was, however, still allowed to practice ballet in the gym when it was empty and the stereo wasn't bugging out -- yet it required Ophelia to change her prothstetic to one suited, and if there were one too many people around she'd shy away from it as an activity. Hopping into the Rehabilitation room, with a skip and jump, Phelie fell into an empty seat; glancing about at the familiar and unacquainted faces of the lot. Yet, as her features relaxed, her lips would obtain a naturally melancholy appearance, irises a shade of honey that had a constant swirl about the pupils. "I suppose we have to talk about our feelings, it's a shame we can't do ghost stories." She rested her cheek on a hand, bunching it up with a pout.
 
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Hue narrowed his eyes at Ophelia. It was easy to forget that these were all criminal masterminds, likely sociopaths, who as a general rule weren't good people. He knew he wasn't a good person, at least. Why, just before... No, now was not a time to get lost in thought. "Of course I will," he said quietly, almost gently, doing his best to sound comforting and keeping the mistrust out of his voice. He didn't trust anyone. Still, staring into her eyes as she left, he stayed still for a moment longer. ...He was probably going to be late, but at least he didn't need to change clothes. He shook his head, slipping out behind her and closing the door.

After another few minutes, always a slow walker, Hue arrived at the center. He took another free seat, a distance away from anyone else, though he was sure they were soon going to be filled up. The cat and the color changing boy, if he recalled correctly. Both of them were probably the most interesting in terms of color. It excited him. Everyone else, with the vague colors of pilin, a hint of daln, and other such simple colors, really had no interesting color scheme...

He only caught the tail end of Ophelia's comment, but he smiled a tight smile at her, clearly not very amused. "We're the ghosts in other people's stories, aren't we?"
 
A library?" She said genuinely surprised "huh well that would be interesting to see and honestly far better then reading the same series of books over and over again" she said laughing slightly as she saw hue and heard his comments causing her to smirk "oh and just what would they say about us huh?" She said with no emotion showing she was actually interested in the topic .....she was off at how she showed interest her yellow and silver eyes gleaming in excitement
 
Ophelia Browne
Her legs swung beneath the chair, noting Hue's presence and remark to give him a half tilt of her head. Those big, almost hypnotising irises blinking owlishly with an emphasis of innocence, "I think you might be the only ghost here, Mr Smith. Where's the light gone in your eyes, little man?" The words didn't fit her soft, lilting tone only to give him a tiny sort of giggle which bubbled and slipped past her lips. Out of most, Browne oft was far too expressive and outspoken for her own good, bringing her legs up to her chest to peer over the knees at the artist with a grin till her attention wandered beyond and curiously lingered on each face who sat in that small circle. She began to nibble on her thumb once again, distractedly stroking the rag of silk tied to her opposite wrist. She really did want to catch that mouse she'd seen.

Phelie wouldn't mind being a tiny little meadow mouse, the more she thought on it. Secretively laughing at the thought of having her neck snapped by a girl not too unlike herself. It was more than amusing to the young woman, hiding her smile by crossing both arms. A poor little meadow mouse with only three little paws and fur as soft as silk. Her head rested to look up at a high, barred window streaming natural light. If only there was a prairie behind the walls of this unjust prison; a home with arms that embraced and voices that were quiet, murmuring like the soft pop and crackle of a fireplace. Ones that never left, ones that didn't want to leave.

She hummed a waltzing tune whilst they waited, hanging in the air as if it entrapped the moment; detaching it from reality. Alas, as far as Ophelia was concerned, her eyes had become glassy and unseeing. Staring into a nothingness as she occupied herself with thought.
 
Marylin Dent nods chuckiling "I want em little ones to look up to me. To aspire to do amazin' thin's with their brains." her sentance lingered a little "probably wont be a pretty good role model though" she chuckled darkly, her thick broklyn accent coming through with every word she spoke, never quite pronoucing the "g"s at the ends of words. She fiddled with her hands, pulling at the stray dangling white strings on the wrist of her old beaten up jacket. Some part inside Marylin wanted to be a good role model, to be a hero, but sadly fate did not want that of her. Instead it threw her on the streets. And what's a girl gotta do to get by in a world that didnt even want her born, turn to crime and become the largest illegal manufacture of powerful never seen before weapons. The clocks hands ticked slowly by, the minutes seeming to drag on, "whens this bloody session gona' start.." she mutters to her self.
 
(lets just assume everyone is in the rehabilitation room. For the sake of the Plot)
A woman in a white lab coat and circular glasses walked into the room closing the door behind her. She smiles sweetly to everyone in the room before sitting down in the last empty chair "good evening everyone. I hope this month has been good for you all" she smiles and clicks her pen getting ready to write on her notepad. "so for todays session I thought it would be a good idea to have everyone share something about their lives, uno a dark secret that they believed shaped them as a person."
 
Kage growled lowly at her why should they share that kind of information it's simply a way for them to use there secrets and ghosts against them and to help control them and it nothing, more then a way to get them to show emotions that aren't even needed or want to be dragged up.

She she sat there she simply kept drawing ignoring the woman completely her abilities having unlocked half an hour ago which made kage glad
 
Khalil leaned back in his seat, a contemplative expression etched onto his delicate features as he pondered on the question. His ice blue eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling, before flitting down to his gloved hands. The gambler clenched and unclenched his fists, steadily repeating the movement a number of times. "I believe I do have a moment I would like to share with you all." His lips formed into a smile, befitting of the cheerful demeanor that the others had come to know, as the words flowed from his mouth.
 
Avalane hummed softly on a children's song, staring dreaming into the air and swinging her feet just a few centimetres off the ground. She listened distractedly to Khalil's voice but did not put in any extra effort to distinct the words from each other
 
Yet again, Ophelia surprised Hue. She was quite... confrontational. After properly analyzing the words, however, he had to wonder for a moment if they meant anything more than 'I like to hear myself talk.' Nevertheless, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back, looking remarkably unkempt for the person in the fanciest attire here, he watched the woman in the labcoat enter and speak. He did attend the therapist's session when they called, but mostly for fun. It's not like he expected to be rehabilitated, of course. He blinked at the question.

"Now hold on a moment. Are you seriously asking us for our villainous backstory?" He stared at her in some measure of shock at how simplistic of a question it was, and then in Khalil at more shock of acquiescing to the question. He really wanted to monologue about how dumb of a question that was, but if someone was going to answer it, far be it from him to stop it. "...Fine, go on." He waved his hand, sitting deeper in the chair.
 
Ophelia Browne
She felt nauseous at the thought of sharing something so intimate to a wide audience. These people didn't deserve to know and she didn't want them to know. Not a thing. Not. A. Thing. Once you were no longer an enigma, people would forget you, puzzles defied time for the human mind. After all ancient unsolved mysteries drove the obsessed even now. Ophelia grasped her ring finger on the left hand, staring at the woman in the lab coat, she unflinchingly twisted it and wrenched it back -- popping and snapping in the silence. Sick rose in her throat, hot white pain zapping up her arm to ebb into her shoulder as the bone of her joint gave out. The finger, now malformed as the bone pushed up against the skin almost breaking it. Agonised tears rolled down her serene features, reddening pale, porcelain skin once unblemished.

Ophelia raised her unafflicted hand before covering her face with an arm to sob into the sleeve of her overalls. "I n-need -- to-to go -- to the infirm-infirmar-y." Her voice wobbled and rose in a dramatic weep, breath harsh and quick. "I-I-I-- I think it's b-b-broken." Amusing to consider she had done the work herself, now standing up, her cheeks rosy and waxen like a little china doll. Eyelashes heavy with dew, sniffling and hiccuping. It was as if watching a toddler scrape her knees, but Browne's big, sad eyes had a twinkle in them. A twinkle of comedy.


There was no stopping a girl from getting what she wanted. And in this case, what she wanted to avoid. "I th-think I kn-know the way so, I'm-I'm okay--" Ophie let out a whimper and then bawled a secondary time.
 
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Kage just watched everything with a sigh as she soon wondered if she should just make up some elaborate story or something of the like causing her to scowl at the woman before pain flared through her left eye as it started to bleed "ragh n-not again" she said as she covered it with her hand as blood fell onto the floor and her note pad
 
"I have nothing to hide, after all." Khalil chirped, the picture perfect description of pure, childish innocence with the glowing smile stretched across his lips. The taste of sichuan peppercorns and chili pepper coated his tongue--surprise. Like a sichuan mapo tofu, it had a bamboozling flavor with it's harmony between spiciness and deliciousness, befitting of the emotion.

But then, there was fear, a sudden spike of sweet and sour tickled his sense of taste. An eel matelote, would be the right dish to match the flavor. It was a dish that could make anyone who eats it abandon all restraint and surrender to their most base desires--and that's exactly what Ophelia decided to do. He watched unflinchingly as she broke her ring finger, the sound of bone snapping echoing throughout the room. He didn't even blink at the fat tears that rolled down her porcelain skin. After all, amidst the sweet and sour of fear and the extreme bitterness of pain, reminiscent of a certain Chinese dish utilizing bitter melon in it's recipe, there was the sugary sweetness of amusement, echoing a dessert he had eaten once; a series of sponge roll cakes made with muscovado sugar and multiple food colorings made of strawberry purée, matcha powder, cocoa powder and black sesame paste, garnished with amezaiku, strawberries and blueberries, assembled into a giant castle.

The familair taste of a calamari ripieni suddenly bloomed on his tongue, along with bitter gourd and egg. Khalil looked to his right, where Kage sat with a hand over her left eye, blood oozing out of the gaps between her fingers and staining not only the floor, but also the notepad resting on her lap. "Oh my, it seems story time is going to have to wait." He commented, tilting his head to the side as he made that conclusion.
 
The doctor sighed and pulled a walkie-talkie turning it on. "Come collect Ophelia and Kage, they will miss out on today rehabilitation session, punshiment will have to be given" she sighs turning it off and slipping it into her pocket. She waited patiently for 2 men with helmets that covered their eyes to walk in and gently take both girls to the infirmary. After they left and door closes she cleared her throat at the silence. "Sadly those two girls miss out today. You were going to share Khalil?" She smiled sweetly, she had learned to block out when ever they did something crazy, it did make her sad but she just couldnt care for them if they wouldnt let her.

Marylin chuckled watching the two leave "anything to get out of seshs i guess" she clicked her tongue sitting up straight "i wanna share somethin after khalil"
 
"Ah, yes." Khalil fixed a smile upon his lips, going back to his usual, almost aristocratic posture from the rather relaxed one he had earlier.

"Six years ago, I had been playing a game of Blackjack against a man who fancied himself a magician, all because he viewed my gambling as an insult to the stage magic he held so dear." The gambler crossed his legs, gloved hands folded on top of his knee. "Of course, I accepted the challenge. It was a rather one sided match--at first, that is, and I was losing millions of dollars to him. Soon enough, I was all out of money to bet."

Khalil's smile stretched even wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling in mirth as he recalled the memory. "But that wasn't nearly the end of it." He slowly pulled off his leather gloves. "The look on his face when I bet six of my fingers in the next round is one I still remember fondly to this day." He waved his hands around for everyone in the room to see, revealing the stitched that wrapped around the base of each of the aforementioned six digits. "I had them chopped off when I lost that round. I bet my last four fingers in a last ditch effort to win back all my lost money, and he realized too late that I had marked the deck with my own blood, thereby cancelling out his ability to switch out the cards. Yes, he had been cheating." He tilted his head in what would have been an innocent display, if it weren't for the way his eyes became dyed an ominous crimson red. "And I made him pay the price for it." Just as quickly as it came, the unnatural color had disappeared, eyes returning to it's ice blue shade.

"In an attempt to regain his honor, he went as far as to bet his own fingers in the next game despite knowing that he'd lose the next round. One by one, he gradually lost each of his fingers, his toes, and eventually entire limbs were hacked off of his body." Perhaps the most disturbing part was the way Khalil had been telling the story; he was speaking as though it was something that happened everyday, as if it was a small, insignificant event in his life. "I've never been one for violence like most mafioso are, but that time, that time was different. I left him there at the casino, bleeding out on the floor for waste management to clean up. It was after I had my fingers stitched back that I realized; what's one less person in the world, anyway?" He said with a shrug as he slipped his leather gloves back on with practiced movements.
 
Marylin stared at the gambler amazed "And your fingers are completely normal? No nerves damaged?" she leaned forward amazed. Of course she didnt care about the mans life being taken or the fact that he cheated. No that was everyday human behaviour, its phenominal that he can still use his fingers even after they had been severed from his body.

The doctor was writing down in her little notebook as khalil spoke his grusesom story to the circle, nodding she looked up at him "Do you believe that man deserved to die?" she asked with a serious experession.

Ineptitude Ineptitude CoolGuy CoolGuy KajaTheChili KajaTheChili AniMANIA7983 AniMANIA7983 The Forgotten Host The Forgotten Host
 
Ophelia Browne
Ophelia's dramatic sobbing was quickly halted at hearing the therapist radioing in, bouncing over to the guards who had come to take them away and wrapping her arm around one of their armour-clad biceps. It wasn't uncommon that Ophelia would do something needlessly drastic to get out of things and unfortunately it was reoccurring enough that most knew how she played the game. Crocodile tears, plump and warm had dried up, turning to look over her shoulder at the small group of patients and blow a kiss before giving a fluttering royal wave. She turned back to the man she'd latched onto and grinned, "Do you like ghost stories? I like ghost stories, just not ones I've heard before because they get so boring! I wish we had a theatre class to add a little colour to the place, I'd obviously be the lead girl. Did you know I was Juliet for my middle school performance? Mother said I was very good at it --" Her voice faded the further down the hallway they got, nattering consistently in the poor orderlies ears.

When they were far enough, Ophie turned her head to the woman whom had been dragged away with her. "You know you didn't have to upstage me with all that blood," Browne remarked haughtily, inching her chin upward to glare down her nose at Kage. "All I did was break a finger and it's my ring finger. How am I supposed to get married if it doesn't heal right?!" She extended her arm to admire the malformed bone and straining skin, her head falling to a side. "I suppose it could be a little crooked and still have a wedding band." The pale-faced girl began to giggle and then peered up at her guard with those big, honey-iris eyes. "Are you married?" And in turn, made the man she clung to just suffer a momentary flustered flicker of the expression.

"I don't understand why people bother talking about what happened to them, it's not as if I care. Why do I want to listen to someone else's silly story? I didn't ask to, in fact, I hate it. Everyone has killed someone, everyone has something to hide, blah blah blah, I killed my mother, blah blah blah, my daddy hit me." Ophelia rolled her eyes up into her head and groaned. "I'm a supervillain and I got caught, oh boo hoo. Good villains don't get caught. They die before they'd ever let themselves be captured by the enemy, has no one ever heard of a good plot?"

With her insufferable chatter, the walk to the infirmary was quicker than normal. Set down upon a hospital bed and given a full health-check before they set her finger. Two splints bound with a tight bandage and padded comfortably. Waiting, curled up in blankets as the punishment was discussed Ophelia made puppets out of the material she'd cocooned herself in. "No desserts for a week, or perhaps isolation!" Browne did an awful job at trying to voice a man. "No desserts and isolation! Or perhaps you'll have to learn Latin and speak to a Sphinx for your release!" Phelie let out a little snort of amusement, being the kind of person who laughs at anything, including her own childish form of amusement.
 
Khalil grinned at Marylin upon hearing the amazement in her voice, tasting the sweetness of apple tart on his tongue. "If it's reattached before twelve hours are up, fingers can be sowed back on." He said in reply to her awed queries. "Most people can only get about fifty percent of normal motion, many have significant deficits of sensation, and many have difficulty with cold tolerance. I was just one of the lucky ones."

The gambler turned back towards the doctor at the serioisness in her tone. "Well," He began, leaning back into his seat. "Now that I look back on it, I suppose my decision was a bit rash. My sense of judgement clouded by my anger. Did he deserve to die?" A contemplative pause, followed by a shrug of his shoulders. "He was a loving husband to his wife, a great father to his children, but was he a good person? No. He was a con artist, a "magician". He had swindled many people, robbed them of their money, got them bankrupt. Pushed people to the very brink. He deserved what he got." He concluded with a firm nod, not an ounce of regret in his tone. "Besides, gambling is all about luck, about walking into the darkness with your eyes closed shut. What point is there without any risk?"
 
Avalane shrugged. “Oh, I can list up a bunch of things. Risks are good for a second of rush, but that you can get from other things”. She could not help but glance at his fingers, which looked amazingly normal, except their movements. They were rapid, yet elegant. He definitely his way with them, which was probably helpful if one wanted to change a three to an ace from his sleeve. “The fun of it lies in the justice, I think, because then the pain is the best part, and that one I can make last for an eternity”.
 
Khalil smiled sweetly towards Avalane; you wouldn't even be able to tell he was a mafioso from how genuinely innocent he appeared to be at that moment. "Well, to each their own." He said with a lyrical hum. "Gambling in the criminal underworld can get a bit... extreme at times, however. Not that I didn't enjoy it." His smile grew wider as he was no doubt remembering fond memories of such times.

Specifically, a particularly memorable game of roulette, featuring a larger than life wheel, real, living people, and an iron sphere the size of a boulder. Omertà can be a truly terrifying thing when enforced, but all mafioso knew what they were getting into once they decided to join.

"Enough about me." The gambler then turned towards Marylin and flashed his fellow innmate a smile. "I believe Marylin also has something to share with all of us." He leaned forward, energy buzzing off of his effeminate form in anticipation for what the other had to say.
 
Kage just growled at her "do you really think I would make my own eye BLEED just to get out of it, it's a medical condition which is had since I was little, to put it simply I have no tear duct flap which makes it so I will cry tears or blood will start to pour from my eye at random if the air is humid or cold. Don't ask me to go into further detail cause I won't Nore can I as I don't really know how to explain it really" she said to the girl "and you are absolutely disgusting Ophelia" she growled at her.

Soon they brought her into the infirmary and set to work on getting the bleeding to stop which was done rather quickly as they wrapped her left eyes with bandages "thanks" she muttered to the men in guard uniforms as she listened to what there punishment would be even though they could easily send her back as it didn't even take more then 9 minutes to check her over and deal with her eye.
 
Ophelia Browne
The girl turned to Kage, "Why don't you just wear an eyepatch then? I heard Pirates of the Carribean are looking for new cast members." Ophelia stuck her tongue out childishly. "Disgusting? Disgustingly prettier than you." She retorted, peering from behind her guard with a giggle. "Aren't you supposed to be a Villain? Stop getting your knickers in a twist." She bounced and skipped. In the infirmary though, Ophelia from under her blankets had palmed a roll of bandages, stuffing it down her overalls and into her brassiere alongside a small pair of sharp tweezers (the cold metal almost making her squeak).

Browne slipped out of her bed and padded across the infirmary floor as if she was playing hopscotch on the tiles only to brazenly approach the doctors and orderlies, arms crossed. "If you're all going to take so long, I think I'm going to do something productive for my mental health." Ophelia did a twirl and outreached her now splinted hand. "Read books about Vikings and young Saxon maidens." Her head hung back in a waterfall of liquid amber theatrically as a further laugh escaped her, light and lilting. "It can't be isolation if I did it to myself after all." She grinned. "Cleaning duties would be better than going back to Lady Labcoat. The old hag can rot for all I care."
 

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