The Rutland Asylum isnt someplace you want to ever go, nevermind in the winter. The first thing Lenor will experience after an eighteen hour drive north is cold, Bitter sub-zero New England winter to chill her to the marrow. This winter has been mild so far, theres only three feet of snow on the ground instead of having snowbanks so high you might as well be living underground.

Lenor will be dragged in her straight jacket through the snow and blasting wind into the Asylum, which is a towering stone structure that is right out of a horror movie and probably should have been massively renovated decades ago.

This is where crazy people go when noone wants to deal with them anymore.

Reception and dignostics is a cold place. Lenor will be attached to a short chain on the floor that wont even allow her to stand fully. The cement below her feet will numb them in minutes and she wont be able to reach any walls. She is left alone here, in a dim room with just a table and two chairs keeping watch over her...  

--Last edited by Radiation on 2009-01-26 09:56:07 --

*Still no food, no medical attention, Lenor crouches on the stone floor, rocking back and forth, her body trying to keep it's temperature up. She babbles incoherently to herself. Eventually she falls over to her side, her fevered skin briefly enjoys the cold floor, with the time it took them to drive to this hell, Lenor's face had begun to show the damage she suffered at the Malk's hands, blacks and purples, greens and yellows, blues and even some reds mix about in a horrible painting of pain on her skin, no doubt the rest of her body looks much the same. She sleeps, though not very well, woken every few minutes by the harsh grumble of a truly empty stomach* Who said that? *Her eyes dart about, then roll up into the back of her dirty head. An hour goes by as she starts awake with a gasp, fearful she looks about her again, she wants to sit up, she tries to sit up, but to no avail, without her hands, and a terribly bruised stomach, not mention lack of sustenance, she is unable to accomplish this simple task. So she looks to the two chairs and in her addled mind she hallucinates, there before her eyes she sees Desmond, and Deidre, desperately she whimpers and tugs at her chains* My hearts, keep me, make the bumping go away, why do you look? UP! *She starts to sob as the images do nothing but stare at her* Please.*Her stomach growls again and she winces* You want me to hurt, is it? *She looks up at them, but they are gone and she screams out, for the first time since having her, the Rutland employees hear her scream, she tries to strain on her chains again, with each breath letting out an ear piercing scream of utter dismay*  

In just a few hours Lenor will find herself screaming with the sun coming through a window glazed with ice. The orb of yellow looks like an egg yolk sliding down the wall and it does almost nothing to warm her. She will hear the sounds of shifts changing in the hall, voices echoeing in the halls and carts being pushed.

Eventually, the door to her holding room will be opening and a sour looking woman with a strained face and hair in a tight, grey bun flanked by two orderlies will enter the room. She reads from a clipboard as one of the orderlies turns on the heat- apparently the night crew forgot to.

'Lenor Valdiva from Sanfield Rock Georgia, Correct?'

The womans voice is nearly a bark, there is nothing warm or theraputic about it.

*Teeth chattering, her lips blue, her exposed skin bruised or other wise a sickly pale color. At the sound of her name she raises her bald scabbed, mud caked head to the woman* No....living..are souls *She gasps through her cracked and oozing lips and looks to the chairs where she thought she saw...but no, all she sees is a table brimming with all manor of delicious foods, she strains feebly, to sit up, to try to crawl to this personal banquet* They even has chocolate, like the one with the long darkness *She runs the tip of her bitten tongue along her lips. She wasn't able to move herself at all, only her head raised about an inch before it falls back to the stone floor and she is losing herself to sleep once more*

'Interesting.'

The icy woman comments at Lenors odd response. She looks to one of the orderlies and then scribbles something on her clipboard.

'I figured this was another wanna-be celebrity nervous breakdown. Perhaps it is more. Im going to assign her to Doctor Klienko. Lets move her to the west wing, I believe room 14 is open and ready.'

The two orderlies move to un-restrain and and carry Lenor to her new living quarters. As they get into the hallway the woman adds:

'And for gods sake turn the damn heat on when you leave her there!'

Noooo *She whimpers, she would fight, would wriggle, would try to break free to dive into the food, but alas she falls limp, her bruised and possibly torn stomach grumbles loudly, she winces at the pain* You all want me in the ground? *Finally she regards the icy woman and the orderlies* Why do you kill me? Why? *She starts to sob, though little tears come, she is so dehydrated* Why..why..why...why..why...*and on and on she mumbles*

The two big men let Lenor carry on with her babbling. They easily help her walk or simply carry her beetween the two of them like one would a child holding two peoples arms.

The west wing is much warmer than the reception and diagnostics area. Lenor will be set on a single bed that has no sheet, no blanket and no case on the pillow. She is on suicide watch after all. The walls are padded and she has a window that overlooks the center of the Asylum- a garden like area with piles of snow and trees standing bare like skeletons. There is a small desk-like outcropping on one wall with a pad of paper, a bendable pen and a soft covered bible.

'You get some rest now girlie.'

One of the orderlies says to her in a deep, but friendly voice.

'The doctor will be around later tonight and breakfast is on the way. Youll have to stay here until they get your medications straightened out.'

*She sits on the bed and curls her knees up to her chest, glad to finally be able to move them without any restraints, as the man speaks to her she lightly picks at her cracked and chapped lips, one hand slowly moves up to her bald head and feels the awful cut job Carter did to it, she looks down at the orderly's feet as she start to breath hard, a horrified look twists her multi-colored face* What've you done!?!? *She seems to hear a voice off to the side and turns quickly to look for it* Here now, to take it all *She whines, gasping for air her eyes dart back up and for a moment she almost pleads with him. Then calms suddenly as her body at least registers that it's on a bed, with a pillow, her eyes roll back as she pass out and falls over onto the pillow, still curled up into a ball*

The orderlies stare for a minute before they burst into a small fit of laughter and start to head out of the room.

'Uh huh goodnight to you to.'

One of them says as they lock Lenor in her room. She will be left in the at elast warm peace of her room for however long she remains asleep. When she awakes there will be a tray of cheap, semi-nutritious state approved food covered by a thin layer of plastic sheeting on her desk along with a plastic cup full of icy water. Next to the cup is a small containers of pills. In truth they are simply asprin to help with the pain she must be feeling from all her bruises and scrape but to her shattered senses they could very well be anything from buttons to tadpoles.

*Her stomach growls painfully at the abuse and neglect, this wakes her, causes her to yelp, her arms cross over her stomach as she looks around the new room and slowly sits herself up, at least she's finally gotten a good rest, thus giving her addled mind time to recharge and throw her head long into crazy town. Her eyes roam about wildly until they land on the food, she groans at the sight of it and reaches out with a weak hand, the thin layer of plastic wrap stops her fingers from picking up the sandwich, she whimpers and tries again, then tries to claw feebly at it* Think it's funny, they watch with their giggling *She gasps as she tries once again to wrap her dirty fingers around the sandwich and starts to sob* Wants me to go madness, they hate me, I'm not pretty to their...*She trails off as she spots the water and grabs it, spilling it a little as she brings it up to her parched lips* Chocolate? *She looks in and sees nothing more than water, her shoulders slump but she knows it's better than nothing, so she starts to gulp it down. Of course, what happens to someone who hasn't had a drink of anything for almost a week then suddenly downs some water? She chokes and spits up the water onto herself, she drops the cup onto the bed, spilling the rest of the water, hacking and coughing she tries to gasp for breath, reaches out for the little nightstand to steady herself, thus knocking the tray of locked away food onto the floor, she must sound like she's dying as she heaves and gags, chokes and coughs up a lung*  

--Last edited by Lenor Valdiva on 2009-02-02 13:42:10 --

*After some time of laying still Lenor sits up, gives a few heaves and looks down at her spilled food, she whimpers and crawls from  her bed onto the floor, lightly picking at the turkey meat off the ground, tiny pieces make their way into her mouth. She kneels over over the food as a hungry little mouse might, picking up a piece of cheese and licks at it, makes a face as if tastes awful and flings it across the room, then resumes her nibbling of meat, making small whimpering/moaning sounds, but as she enjoys the spilled food the pills watch her, two little beady eyes, she stops with a piece of lettuce hanging from her bottom lip and cranes her head to look at these staring eyes, she gives them a harsh look and slowly turns her back, the food forgotten she shuffles herself under the bed*

Lenor will be left to her own devices until nightfall. There is a small vent in the wall under her bed. After a few hours of hiding, sleeping and crying she will hear a voice from the next room reciting a forboding monologue.

'Hiding wont help. Im not crazy; the more you try to prove it the crazier you seem. If your really crazy your screwed. This is where you go when noone wants to deal with you. Theres more rules that dont apply than that do.'

Whoever is speaking breathes heavy through the vent. The sound echoeing.

'The night shift is the real freaks. Noone cares how doped up we are, or if we are left in restraints for hours. All the worse diagnosises come out here... A is for Apathy children. Noones watching down here. If your really crazy this is the end, if your an attractive woman and crazy; you found your way to hell.'

As if on cue Lenor will hear a key in her door...

*She gasps at the sound of the key in her lock and claws at the ground, inching to the vent* coming...they're going to, they sent the eyes, they did, to watch me, and now they come. *A shaking hand lifts and runs her dulled nails over the vent* To stab at me...take me out...take me out please, don't let the spiders eat at me, not again *She cries and claws at, curling up into a ball*

'Miss Valdiva?'

A mans voice. Deep, professional, almost comforting comes from the open doorway. Peeking from under the bed she will see a pair of brown leather shoes that tuck under black pants.

'I take it the food wasnt to your liking?'

The man chuckles to himself and pulls a chair into the room with the sound of metal scraping on concrete.

'Could you join me up here please. Id like to talk to you a bit.'

*She grips a hand over her throat at the mention of her not liking the food* Poisoned? *She gags a little* You spied on me to watch me die and when I didn't you came to do me off yourself *She whimpers and scrapes at the vent* Demons pierce my pinkness, draw out the flowing chocolate, no no..no more *She beats a fist to her chest, pressing back into the wall as much as she can trying so hard to keep away from the open edge of the bed*

Lenor will hear a quiet scratching sound once the man settles onto the metal chair. The door to the room must be on a timer, or someone Lenor cant see now closes it while the man sits a few feet inside the room, his shoes positioned carefully around the discarded and dropped food bits.

'Noone poisoned your food Miss Valdiva. We are here to help you. My name is Doctor Blight, but you can call me Ted if you like. I want to talk about why your here...'

*Terror fills her and she lets out a squeal* I've done nothing! *Still pressing back against the padded wall, watching those brown shoes closely* I'm half a bronze, and I can't, I just can't *She sobs like a scared little girl, her nails running over her still dirty face, as if trying to rip her tears away*

Doctor Blight switches his tone. His voice is gentle, like a concerned grandfather. Its a practiced tone and one he rarely uses around here. It has its uses during diagnosis though.

'Lenor...'

He addresses her by her first name, trying to sound like a friend.

'I know your scared. You can stay under there if you feel safer. Im going to send for some things to help you get comfortable. A nicer blanket and some medicine and soup. It says here your from Georgia, is that correct?'

Bait and hook. Offer comfort and hit question one. Establishing a patients spatial awareness is very important. This is going to be a long night.

Maybe. *Voice whimpered and thick with tears, the terror subsides just slightly, though she opts to stay right where she is for now* My *She slaps a palm to her forehead* Boss won't work, can't tell you, yes, or maybe not *Shaking like a leaf she pulls herself into a tight ball and sobs into her knees* Was a toy and demons poked at, came from hell and froze my feet and, and my *She gives a horrible groan* my silly pinkness, lips pained and gave me chocolate.

Dr. Blight will press a button on his pocket and speak to some far off orderly.

'Victoria could you bring me a bowl of soup, a class three sedation kit and an extra blanket down to number fourteen please.'

Lenor wont hear anyone reply. Doctor Blight will shift his feet and Lenor will hear a new round of scratching. This talk of demons is far more common than most people want to believe. Its also quite useless from a diagnostic standpoint; demons are a common representation of anything from childhood trauma to parental issues to ex-boyfriends or drug use.

'Lenor I want you to answer a few simple questions for me. What year is it? Who is the president and what did you do for work in Georgia?'