where he goes I follow {jeremiah. open.}

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]
“Vat are you doing?”

Charlotte looked up at her teacher. She stared up at him with her almond shaped eyes and tilted her chin up to take him in. She had always been a tiny thing and as a little girl she was especially small—almost undersized. She felt her lips part and she lowered herself on her feet so she was standing flat as she looked up at him beneath her bangs. “I um…” Charlotte started to say. “I was…dancing on my toes.”

“Dancing, on your toes?” Sergei asked his words slathered with his Russian accent. Years of living in America had made his English clearer but his mother language still clung onto every word. The tall blond man looked down at her with his pale blue eyes. His jaw was set and he waited for her to say more.

“Y-yes Maestro,” she nodded. She placed her hands before her and waited for him to berate her. She was nervous and felt the other little girls staring at her. A few of them whispered and she heard him hush them. “I want…I want to dance.” She wanted to dance well. No she wanted to be better than that she wanted to be a great dancer. She’d be the one to make Sergei proud.

He smiled down at her and held out his large hand to her. His square shaped fingers were held out to her and she reached out to him as she placed her tiny doll like hand in his as she smiled back. “Come, Nightingale, I teach you to dance.”

Charlotte smiled at her memory. She felt happy when she thought about Sergei because he was the only person who ever really loved her. She loved him so much because he was honestly the only person who ever really cared about her. Her father was way too busy with work and most of the time when she wanted to spend time with him he would give her money so she could buy something. He would rather her just leave him alone so he could spend time with his son. Her dad would play catch with Franklin and spend time with him but he hardly bothered with Charlotte. Her mother was usually too busy with taking care of the house—when she tried to help out her mom would usher her away and tell her to do her homework. Franklin was too busy being perfect. He didn’t want to spend time with her.

Nobody wanted to be with Charlotte. Her only solace was ballet she only liked being in the studio because it was the only place she got love. Sergei may have yelled at her quite often or given her stern looks but he was the only one Charlotte could ever remember genuinely care about her. Why couldn’t he love her as much as she loved him? She really missed him. Charlotte understood that he didn’t love her—he hated her now. Nobody loved Charlotte.

She missed him but she really missed the structure. She missed dancing. Charlotte liked popularity, she enjoyed being in the spotlight, and she even loved being with men but they would always come second to dance. She had to dance, when she couldn't dance she felt extremely guilty. Maestro told her that practice was important so she would have to continuously do it. She still felt strange without Maestro instructing her. Before she was put into the Manor, her therapist had made her try to decide things for herself but she just couldn’t help but seek reassurance. That was why she liked Sergei so much. Sergei gave her what she needed. She was like an addict and Sergei supplied the orders. She missed him. The little lady stood in line. She had a tray of food, most of which had been picked out for her. She was given a serving of chicken—she was lucky enough to get the leg, a serving of string beans, a roll of bread, an apple, and then there was something else.

She stared gently at the desserts. There was a choice between a slice of chocolate cake or pudding. Chocolate cake of pudding. What should she chose? Everybody else had picked out what she was supposed to eat but now she had to make a choice for herself. She stood very still. “Um…Um…” The ballerina started to shake. She felt her lips tighten, her pulse quicken, and her grip on her tray tighten. Charlotte looked back and forth. Should she get anything? Or the cake? Or the pudding? What to do? What should she do? She was so confused. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Some would say Jeremiah Andrews was sick. That he was the unfortunate victim of a tragic condition that downed his brain in Dopamine and destroyed his ability to separate what was real and what was not. These people, mostly the mental health professionals like therapists and psychiatrists, were being polite. To everyone else he was a psycho. Not unwell, not mentally ill, just fucking crazy. A hyperreligious lunatic that would brutally attack innocent people because "they were possessed by demons" and he "needed to exorcise them." Drug him out of his mind, thought the families of his victims. Keep him locked away in the institution so he can become nothing but a distant memory and terrorize society no more. It was for the best, wasn't it? He was officially certifiable now with a shiny new diagnosis of Paranoid Schizophrenia and what did that mean to your average ignorant person? Unpredictable, deranged, and ultimately a threat to anyone he came into contact with.

If you were to ask Jeremiah if he was sick or crazy you'd get an instant no. He was fine the way he was, not a single thing wrong with him. Okay, so maybe he could see demons and hear the voices of the Lord's heavenly messengers, but.. that was well within the realm of possibility for an angel, which he actually believed he was. Angels didn't want to hurt humans, they wanted to help them and guide them and protect them. Demons on the other hand.. they were another story. When it came to demons angels didn't screw around. They'd smite them in a second and send their infernal asses straight back to the Hell they emerged from. It was necessary to keep the humans safe and that's what Jeremiah was thinking about everytime he tried to strangle a "possessed person" to death. When he explained this to the judge they threw him in a straitjacket and sent him on his merry little way to the looney-bin, so.. here he was, standing in the lunch line of Lucid Manor's cafeteria among all the others that were just like him, each cast out from the world and sent to this forlorn place where they'd no longer be a problem.

He moved along with a tray in his hands, two pairs of eyes observing him from a distance. They belonged to the guards that were just waiting for the opportunity to rush over and restrain him if he just so happened to snap. After a few minutes came to pass he realized the line wasn't moving anymore. The high-profile patient raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes shifting toward the asian girl standing ahead of him. They were gentle and unassuming. Not the kind of eyes one would typically expect a violent psycho to have. They met Charlotte's almond ones when she looked around anxiously. He blinked, taking a glance at the desert section she hovered at. Then it clicked. Two delicious treats sat in front of her. Cake or pudding... not always an easy decision to make. His gaze returned to the asian girl. "Having trouble deciding?" Jeremiah offered her a friendly smile. "Personally, I'd go with the pudding but that's just me." He gestured to the pudding and shrugged.

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]
Charlotte didn’t know who Jeremiah was. She didn’t know of the more infamous patients at the Manor but they were of little consequence to her. She had always been so absorbed in her dancing or infatuated with someone—namely Sergei. He had been the only person who ever gave her the direction that she needed. Sergei would tell her what to do. Why didn’t he like her? The young woman bit down on her lower lip. What to do? What to do? She looked back and forth as she brought her feet together and tapped her toes together.

Her toes curled and she awkwardly shuffled on her feet. What should she do? A visible frown was on her pretty doll like face and Charlotte quietly stood there. Her anxiety started to peak and she knew that this was a test. Her lips trembled and she quietly stood. She was starting to feel faint. What to do? What to choose? She wished she had a way to make things easier. A normal person would have been able to choose something and then walk away. Not Charlotte.

Charlotte let out a small and quick whine. “Um…” she started to say. “Um…” She bit down gently on her lower lip. “Ummm…” Charlotte didn’t understand why it was so hard for her to make a choice. She never thought of it as a problem until the man who made all the choices removed himself from her. There was nobody to help her and she was totally helpless now! Why didn’t anybody want to help her anymore? Everybody in this hospital was so cold and so unwilling to help her. Charlotte then caught somebody’s eyes with her. Dark eyes caught hers and she stopped as she watched Jeremiah.

“Uhh…” he was the first person to smile at her. Justice didn’t smile at her and she hadn’t met her doctor yet. Nobody had been nice to her and she had been left along. The young woman nodded softly at the man and she listened to him—totally captivated. He was smiling and he was helping her. Nobody had helped her in so long! She lit up considerably and her smile returned to her features. “Yes,” she answered him. “I am, having trouble.” Oh was she having trouble. She’d been ripped out of her home and tossed in a loony bin.

Charlotte heard his answer and she lit up like a Christmas bulb. “Pudding, of course,” she smiled. Okay, so that totally ruled out chocolate cake or just leaving them. She reached out to the pudding and the young woman took it as she put it on her tray. She glanced up at him and the little lady bit down gently on her plump lower lip as she chirped, “Hello.”

Miss Fujimoto was more than willing to cling onto him. He had told her what to do and she was eating it up. “My name’s Charlotte.” She would have shaken his hand but she was holding onto her tray. Taking a step back from the line so more people could get what they wanted.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Jeremiah was surprised by the way her face suddenly lit up with a bright smile and couldn't help but think that it suited her so much more than that uncomfortable expression she had before. He watched as she happily grabbed the pudding, completely oblivious to how much he had actually helped her just then. If only he knew. He thought about her name. Charlotte. It didn't ring any bells and he'd never seen her wandering around the hospital or at any of the group sessions he was attending. She must have been new a patient. Either that or she was a low-profile patient, the kind he rarely got to socialize with seeing as how the high-profilers were kept in their own little area a lot of the time. Maybe it was both. He grinned wryly. "Good choice. The cake was kinda.. stale last time I tried it. You'd think the food would be top-notch, seeing how just about everything else in this place is. At least you can't really go wrong with pudding, right?" The statement wasn't entirely true. Pudding did have the potential to go bad but even if it did its not like you'd be able to tell. Not until later, on the toilet. By then it would be a little too late.

"Hi," he said, his grin broadening as he turned to face the asian girl. She looked surprisingly normal for a resident of a high-security, world-renowned mental institution. So innocent and put together. Not like just about every other patient he encountered during his stay at the manor, but then again... he looked pretty normal too, and ridiculously innocent. Most of the time, anyway. "I'm Jeremiah, its nice to meet you Charlotte." He glanced over at the counter and decided to grab a pudding for himself, setting it down on his tray of food before taking a step back to join her, making room for the other hungry patients to move along in the line. The impatient man who was standing behind him was begining to look a little peturbed with having to wait but relaxed a little as soon as he realized the religious nut and the indecisive girl were out of his way. Jeremiah didn't seem to notice. His attention was stollen by Charlotte at the moment. "You know what? I think I'll have some too."

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]
“Oh, I don’t like stale cake,” her nose crinkled up in distaste as she shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. She nodded. “I like pudding.” She actually hadn’t had anything chocolate for some time. Sergei didn’t like her eating too many sweets and her parents only kept healthy foods in the house—primarily for her big brother who they fed specially to make certain his brain was healthy. Charlotte wasn’t the crazy one—they were. They were the one that emotionally abused their daughter—they neglected her. They were negligent parents. They belonged in the Manor not her.

Charlotte was unsure as to why she was there she was certain that it was because her family didn’t want to put up with her nonsense. They didn’t love her they loved Franklin and Charlotte was absolutely sure that they would have liked if Franklin was an only child. She was a screw-up. Not perfect Franklin. Charlotte tossed her hair and it trailed behind her before resting on her small back.

It wasn’t entirely shocking that Charlotte looked so happy when the choice was taken away from her. All the anxiety and uneasiness was released and she was back to her normal self. The best thing about that though was the fact that he had told her what to do as well as given her a reason to choose what he had suggested. Even though she honestly didn’t mind blindly doing what she was told she did like having reasons for doing them. Charlotte wasn’t really used to people being too nice to her—people tended to be put off by her. She could come off as exceptionally clingy as well as annoying. Charlotte bat her eyes a couple of times and she took a few steps closer to Jeremiah, “It’s nice to meet you.” That little personal bubble that people had Charlotte tended to pop and intrude. She was roughly six or so inches away from him even though she would have preferred to get closer she kept away as she knew she was in the loony bin and was unsure as to what would set people off. Maybe it was girls, maybe it was long hair, or maybe it was people just getting to close.

Charlotte didn’t understand why he was there. What was wrong with him? She couldn’t help but wonder if it was for something dangerous. She really hoped not—he seemed so nice and he was smiling. Nobody had smiled at her, she thought to herself again. He was being nice to her. Charlotte moved when he moved and she asked, “Would you like to sit together?”
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Suddenly she was close. Real close. Close enough to make him blush ever so slightly. Maybe it was because he hadn't expected it, or perhaps it was the way she was looking at him. Batting those cute little eyes of hers. He blinked, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly before taking an unconcious step back. He smiled again. Her friendliness was something he wasn't used to, at least, not in a place as dismal and dreary as this. There were so many other patients that seemed to have a permanent stick up their ass, and everyone else.. well, just about everyone else was emotionally dead. Too depressed to care about socializing or even holding a simple conversation with somebody. He liked her bubbliness and found it rather refreshing. It did make him wonder though. What was a sweet girl like her doing in such messed up place? He contemplated asking. Almost did, but decided against it. That could be perceived as rude. He didn't want to offend a girl he'd just met, especially when she seemed so nice. Still, even with that in mind, he was still awfully curious. Maybe she was like him, or.. like he thought he was. Ripped straight out of his everyday life and thrown into a psychiatric facility where he swore he didn't belong. If he got to know her a little, perhaps he would find out.

"Sure," he replied, when she asked if he wanted to sit with her. "I'd love to." He began to walk away from the lunch line, motioning for Charlotte to come along with him. The guards watched him warrily with narrowed, scrupulous eyes. They moved in a little, regarding their psychotic charge with caution. Jeremiah tried not to notice them and kind of hoped Charlotte wouldn't either. Being surrounded by security guards didn't exactly make him look like the friendly, approachable guy he was. It made usually made people nervous or intimidated. "I like to eat outside, makes me feel a little more... free, even though I'm still surrounded by cement walls and cameras. It looks like a nice day too. Want to go?" Ah yes, that temporary illusion of freedom that the manor's outside yard provided. He hated being so confined all the time. It had little room to walk or explore but at least it was something. Better than being cramped in the hospital building twenty-four-seven with the scent of sanitisers and dead skin on the linoluem floor.

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]
He was blushing! That was adorable. Charlotte never ever made anybody blush before, only make people swat her away like she was an annoying little mosquito or something. She took a step closer when he took a step back. Charlotte wondered if she made him feel uncomfortable or something. She wasn’t totally used to that. Charlotte’s interaction with the masculine sex was limited to her brother, her father, and Sergei. There were no boys in her company and she was eating up the attention. There were boys here and she could easily latch onto one. It was a matter of choosing. Charlotte watched him smile and she felt unbelievably happy. For the first time in a very long time she felt joy. Nobody had been so nice to her in such a long time. Her previous therapist had been cold and not very nice. Charlotte had not found a kind face or a friendly smile for such a long time.

She had always been an optimistic and cheerful girl. At least she didn’t have to put up with her big brother. That was what her parents had always wanted—wasn’t it? Just to have their son. She wondered if perhaps he had been stuck there by his family. What had he done? She noticed that he was wearing scrubs instead of regular clothing like her. Her oversized but favorite sweater hung onto her delicate frame—she loved it and she wouldn’t know what to do if it had been taken away from her.

He wanted to eat with her! Yay! She wiggled on the spot like she was a child who just spotted a brand new Barbie doll or something. Bouncing on her feet she nodded. “I’d love to, too!” she gleefully chirped. Primarily because everybody else was so darn rude but also because he allowed her to come with him. She watched him walk and swiftly followed him keeping a pace or so behind. She hadn’t noticed the guards, not yet, whether it was because she was just oblivious or too focused on Jeremiah could be debated.

“Okay,” she answered because he wanted to go outside. It would have been rude to say no as he said that he specifically liked to eat out there. Charlotte wondered how long he had been there. She watched him with her dark eyes and waited for further instruction. “Jeremiah?” she questioned. She waited a beat or two to make sure that he heard her and had his attention. Charlotte liked speaking when she had a captive audience. She grinned, “Jeremiah, you’re nice, I like you.” It was such a sincere and innocent statement. Charlotte attached herself to people very quickly and everyone was her friend until proven otherwise. She had just labeled him as a friend. She was guilty of being judgmental and she had passed judgment on him. It wasn’t a bad one—she labeled him as helpful and friendly but it was still a judgment.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Jeremiah cracked a smirk when Charlotte wriggled and bounced with enthusiasm. He could already tell within the first few minutes of meeting her that she was the type of person that he would enjoy being around. She seemed to rejuvinate the dull, dismal room with new life. He liked that, considering how it was an incredibly difficult trait to come across when everyone seemed so hopeless and miserable. Defeated by the system and consumed in their problems. He tried to help them, all of them, any chance he got. Acting like a hero and taking on the role of a sort of savior was the only thing that kept him from becoming as broken and depressed as they were. If he didn't have this messiah complex of his, the asylum would've chewed him up and spit him out a long time ago. The doctors wanted to take away his rose-tinted glasses and force him to face the cold harsh reality of who and what he really was; not an angel, not a saint, not a friggin' superman. Just a man, a very sick and deluded man. If they could bring him back to reality he would get "better," but.. in his case, would better really be such a good thing?

Just as he was about to reach the cafeteria doors he heard her speak his name. Jeremiah stopped, glancing over his shoulder to see the bubbly female patient who was trailing close behind. The next thing that came out of her mouth made him blink in surprise. Maybe it was the sheer straight forwardness of her statement that took him by surprise, or perhaps it was because she'd given him a compliment. He remembered the way people used to say he was "nice" all the time before he got institutionalized. Teachers, neighborhood kids, people from his father's church.. yeah. It was something he was used to hearing. They all thought he was such a "nice boy" until they found out about what he had done. Sometimes he'd find himself wondering what they thought of him now. "Why.. thank you," he said, sounding ever so modest, an equally as humble smile appearing on his face. "I um.. I like you too?" He chuckled lightly before pushing the door open and holding it for Charlotte, courteously waiting for her walk by before he would follow her out. He wasn't trying to be smooth or anything, this kind of mannerly behavior was just natural for him. Something that had been engrained in him since early childhood. His mother had obviously raised him well. He peered down at Charlotte, his hand on the door. "After you."

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]

Charlotte had always been a bouncy and jovial little thing ever since she was a little girl she had been a fun loving little creature and she absolutely loved being happy but then again who loved being sad? Her brother had been an exceptionally serious and straight laced person and Charlotte had always been his opposite. Not that her brother was a downer but they were as different as night and day. Her parents always appreciated him being himself and never seemed to enjoy Charlotte’s bubbly and effervescent personality. The only one who ever did was Sergei who told her to harness her boundless energy into dance and into making something beautiful. Though, this young man seemed to welcome her which Charlotte wasn’t used to—especially in a place like this.

Miss Fujimoto didn’t see herself as a martyr or as the residential Pollyanna who’s job was to pep up everyone in the area. She was just always happy. Charlotte always had a hope that if she kept smiling then everything would turn out okay just from positive thinking. Her family would come and pick her up and everything would be okay. She’d join a company and dance. Charlotte didn’t want to think that her parents would forget all about her. She knew that they loved Franklin more and wished that he had been an only child. Charlotte knew that and they didn’t hide their disdain for their fuck up daughter. Charlotte glanced up at him with her dark almond shaped eyes. She bit down gently on her lower lip.

The young woman tilted her chin up as she watched him look down at her. The young woman waited for him to respond. She watched him blink and for a moment she thought that maybe he didn’t like her compliment and a rush of anxiety entered her. She stopped though when he thanked her and she lit up once more. The tiny dancer nodded as he smiled. He said he liked her too and she wanted to gasp at that. He liked her too! Yay, that was so super! The young woman nodded up at him and she heard him chuckle. That was cute. He was cute. Charlotte found a brand new target.

The young woman trot up behind him and she glanced up at him. He opened the door up too, that was so cute. The young ballerina smiled and she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear as she stepped outside. “Nobody’s opened a door for me for so long,” she chirped as she looked outside. It was a lot better than being inside. Charlotte looked back over to him. “Not since I came here.” Miss Fujimoto waited for him to walk outside too and she wanted to know why such a sweetie was in with her. Maybe he had been put in just like her. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Jeremiah moved aside as the other patient made her way through the door. Nobody opening the door for a lady? He found that hard to imagine but then again, he'd been brought up differenly then your average joe and she was in an insane asylum. Customs were forgotten and hospitality was just about non-existent. Didn't matter who you were or what was wrong with you, the moment you stepped foot into Lucid Manor you became a patient and nothing more. Just another lowly code for the doctors to try and crack. He'd realized this the hard way just as everyone else had, yanked from everything he once knew only to be thrown into a place where the rules of what was normal no longer applied. With unfailing optimism he would try and make the best of this crappy situation though until the doctors came to their senses and realized that they'd been wrong about him all along. Jeremiah shrugged. "Well I guess I'm kind of old-fashioned that way," he reponded with a grin before following her out.

The heavy door fell shut behind Jeremiah. He took a few steps into the yard outside and was greeted by the sound of chirping birds and brisk autumn air. Fresh air, which came as a very welcome change. Fallen leaves in earthy shades danced above the ground, captured by the afternoon breeze and whirling around. He closed his eyes for but a second and let the clean air fill his nostrils before opening them once again. Refreshing. The guards kept their distance but meandered out warrily, not quite sure what to expect from their unpredictable high-profile charge since he always seemed to be full of surprises. Jeremiah found and tree and sat down in front of it, his back against the broad trunk and his tray layed out on the grass before him. His brown eyes lifted toward his new accomplice and he patted a spot on the ground beside him. "Is here okay? I thought we'd sit in the shade." Hopefully she wouldnt be one of those girls that was too prissy for this sort of thing. She looked relatively down to earth.

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]

The people in the Manor were like animals. She wasn’t really understand why she was there but she was certain that maybe her parents would pick her up soon. They could pick her up and bring her back home. She would be with Sergei again. He loved her she knew that they weren’t together purely for the age difference. If he was younger or she were older she knew that they would be together. Sergei always opened doors for her. The ballerina glanced up at him, “I like it.” It reminded her of Sergei. Charlotte blinked and for a moment she saw her Sergei standing there opening the door for her and not Jeremiah.

Charlotte smiled as she slipped past him before she glanced at Jeremiah. She glanced up at the sky and she heard familiar birds. She was rather fond of birds, she loved them. She tilted her chin up and the girl with dark hair waited for him. She didn’t know where to sit but was certain he would know where to go. She felt the crisp autumn air welcome her outside and she quietly looked back to see the guards. Why did he have guards following him? Charlotte didn’t understand but she didn’t ask anything.

The young girl followed him and she sat down on the grass as well. She tucked her feet beneath her slender legs and sat down. “I like it,” she replied quietly. She had never gotten to eat on the grass before she’d never been on a picnic or anything and she smiled. She tugged at her sweater and she looked back up at Jeremiah with her almond shaped eyes.

She reached out for her food initially but then stopped. “Um,” she started to say. “Do you pray?” Pray before he ate some people did and other people only did before dinner. She didn’t know if he did or didn’t but she was willing to join him if he did. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/font]

[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

He grinned when she told him she'd liked his old-fashionedness. That unfailing politeness that seemed to come as easy as breathing. He was often told he was a gentleman but it wasn't something he ever really thought about. It was just who he was, an all around good guy with a hint of crazy mixed into his saintly personality. Okay, maybe there was more than just a hint. A lot more, but that was beside the point. He was happy to know that she'd be content with joining him in the grass. It felt so much freer than being cooped up in the confines of that overly-congested cafeteria. Sure, he didnt really mind being indoors but when it was forced upon him that was a different story. It made him want to spend as much time outside as possible.

Pray?! His head shot up the moment that word hit his ears. Oh he pray alright. All the time, constantly, obsessively. Before he went to bed every night, before he climbed out of bed every morning. A lot of times he'd do it in silence, discretion was everything in a place where any religious thing he said or did was considered a "symptom," but sometimes he'd find himself on his knees with his head bowed piously as he professed his love and gratitude to God. The amount of devotion he had was extreme, fighteningly so, and the scars on his hands made that known. Two indenticle self-inflictions right in the center of each one. He did it to himself one day in a flurry of Christian mania and delusions, but he wouldn't admit to that. No. He'd look anyone who asked directly in the eye and tell them he was blessed with the gift of "Stigmata." Anyway, pray. Yes, he prayed, but he couldn't believe that question came out of Charlotte's mouth. Faith, God.. they were concepts rejected by just about everyone in the Manor. People either hated God with a vehement passion and blamed him for the tragic things that occured in their lives or they simply didn't believe in any sort of higher power. He wondered if Charlotte believed.

"Yes...," he answered, nodding with an unblinking incredulous stare. An excited smile stretched its way across his face faster than one wouldn't believe but it wasn't like any of his usual grins, no, there was something different about it. Something unhinged. He nodded again."Yes I do." He waited with eagerness for a response, his dark eyes never leaving the asian girl. For that moment Jeremiah seemed to forget about the guards that hovered off in the distance, the men had taken to conversing casually with one another but their gazes were still fixed on their charge. Just in case, because they knew better than to leave him unattended. That bloody Eliot Holt would fire both their asses in a heartbeat if they dared to leave their posts even if Jeremiah wasn't particularly dangerous at the point in time. "Do you?"

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

[/url][/size]
Charlotte came from a very polite family. Her brother had been raised to be a well- behaved gentleman. Her brother was exceptionally smart and polite and that was what made him so hard for Charlotte to fully hate. She could get annoyed with him and even jealous of him but her big brother loved her. He always made certain to go to her recitals, he always made certain that he helped her with his homework, and be nice to her. Charlotte was a little overdramatic when she said that nobody in her family cared about her—Franklin cared but he was also busy being perfect. He was perfect. Charlotte was certain though that her parents would be happy if they were just together—just the three of them without her. They didn’t need her after all she only messed things up all of the time. All the time. They didn’t care about her. They cared about Franklin. She knew that Franklin might have cared that she was gone but was probably busy. He was in college and doing wonderful. Unlike her who had been stuck in an insane asylum.

She didn’t understand why she was there. She wasn’t crazy. She really wasn’t crazy at all. They had just trapped her there to be happy. Well, she’d show them. She’d make something of herself! Charlotte quietly sat next to Jeremiah and she awkwardly kept quiet unsure what to say. Everyone she had reached out to had been insane. Not him. Maybe he was trapped too and he wasn’t crazy. Maybe he was like her. She took note of his scrubs once more—was he dangerous? He didn’t seem like a crazy psycho.

Charlotte’s grandparents had come from Nagasaki and her father lived there until he was roughly the age of five. Nagasaki had one of the biggest populations of Christian’s in Japan and when it had been bombed that the majority of the people killed were Christian women and children. Her father said it looked like a giant crater. Charlotte had never been. Despite her ethnic background her family was a Christian one—it gave her paternal side’s easier access to America when they wanted citizenship.

Her family wasn’t especially religious but they were taught things. She had a children’s Bible in her room and would go over a few stories and texts before she danced. She had to have a lot of faith in herself when she wanted to execute a grand jeté. She had to hope that she would land correctly and not tear a tendon or injure herself.

Charlotte wasn’t a religious fanatic—it was a little unorthodox but Sergei would pray before a performance and it was a habit she would pick up. Sergei had prayed so therefor Charlotte prayed as well. After all who was the first one to be asked for a favor when one needed something? Charlotte may not have been to mass every Sunday, she may not have read the Bible every day, or knew that she wasn’t supposed to wear a rosary around her neck but she had to admit she liked believing and she needed somebody to believe in. Besides, some of her favorite stories came from not only ballet but the Bible as well. Moses was far more tragic than any of the characters she had ever danced as. In a lot of ways, the scriptures she had known were like ballets; Tragic, triumphant, and entertaining. She read his face and knew what the correct answer was and she lied by omission—oh Charlotte prayed all right mainly when she needed something or before a performance but that was not the answer he needed and she knew it. One word left her lips as she reached out to him with her small doll like hand, “Yes.”
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[jake]

with your halo slipping down
to choke you now

Yes. She actually said yes. He looked at Charlotte in disbelief but that only lasted about a second before he beamed elatedly. "I.. I can't believe this." All of a sudden he felt a little less like the odd guy out in this institution filled with non-believers. He thought about how they just so happened to bump into one another in the lunch line and he wondered if perhaps it wasn't just a coincidence. Maybe, just maybe, the Lord had put her there in his path at that very moment for a reason. Just about everything had some sort of divine purpose to Jeremiah. There was very little in his life that he couldn't associate with the will of God. He'd read way too much into things and would make himself see whatever it was that he wanted to see in any given situation. "I thought I was the only one. In here, I mean. The only one in here that prays.. that believes in God." His eyes lit up and he shook his head. "Faith is so scarce these days. I didn't think it existed in a place like this."

It had been so long since he'd talked about this kind of stuff with a person who actually shared his beliefs. Too long. He felt the immediate urge to bombard her with questions regarding her religion but managed to hold back if only for a moment. It was time to pray. He gripped her delicate hand and closed his eyes, that grin never fading from his face. "Let us pray," he told her, fighting to remain calm and composed with the surge of enthusiasm that threatened to overwhelm him. "Heavenly father, we thank thee for food in a world where many walk in hunger. For faith in a world where many walk in fear. For friends in a world where many walk alone.." Yes, friends.. like faith they too were scarce in this dwelling for the mentally unsound. He couldn't have been happier to have finally met someone else like him. Surely she'd understand him and she wouldn't be like the dozens of others who'd rejected his beliefs or called him crazy. Jeremiah fell silent, expecting the girl beside him to add something to their grace. Every word of his prayer escaped his mouth with such passion and fervor.

[charlotte]

I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go.
There isn't an ocean too deep or a mountain to high it can keep, keep me away.

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As soon as she saw his face she immediately knew that she had chosen the correct answer. Charlotte was very pleased with herself and she knew that she had chosen the right thing. Charlotte knew that she had found what would make her please him. All she had to do now was learn more and find out what he would want her to know. She blinked when he said that he couldn’t believe it and Charlotte knew exactly what to say. She was a performer—ballerinas she argued had a tougher job than actors as they had to convey thoughts, feelings, and emotions strictly through movement with no words. Charlotte was a people pleaser by nature and she knew that she had to reel him in now—she had found somebody to follow and the thoughts of Sergei were starting to slip. Sergei hadn’t seen her in over a year and while she desperately missed him and her time with him she had been offered kindness by somebody. It had been oh so long since somebody had been nice to her. It had been so long since someone had been nice to her.

Jeremiah had been either fortunate or unfortunate enough to be the very first person to be nice to her. Jeremiah now had a devoted follower and a lackey who would follow his lead and believe his word was all that mattered. She would do whatever she could to please him and she knew that after he opened up the door for her it was meant to be. He cared about her. He said that he liked her. That meant that he thought she was pretty. If she was pretty that must meant that he wanted to kiss her. If he wanted to do anything else that meant that he loved her. If he liked her that must mean he loved her and if he loved her that meant that they’d be meant to be.

She smiled up at him when he beamed and the girl knew exactly what to say. “Hope is frail but it’s hard to kill even if you can’t always see it,” she replied simply. The young girl listened to him before she picked out to say that. The tiny dancer smiled and she felt him take her hand. That synched it, his hand felt right. It actually reminded her of Sergei’s hand and she clutched his hand with her small fingers and leaned closer.

She did believe so she wasn’t being a blasphemous liar or anything but she was not nearly as obsessive as Jeremiah was. Her family went to church on Easter and Christmas and that was about it. Yeah, they were those kinds of Christians. Miss Fujimoto bit down on her lower lip and the young woman listened to him. Her eyes closed and she smiled. She wondered what she should do. Jeremiah said his prayer and he hadn’t let go so she realized he wanted her to say more. “Oh,” her eyes opened and she remembered what Sergei would say before he ate with her. “God is good, God is sweet. Thank you for the food that we can eat. Thank you for the milk, thank you for the bread. And thanks for a place to lay my head,” it wasn’t Agnus Dei or a Hail Mary but it sounded right and Charlotte saying it just seemed right. She smiled and the girl hoped she did right.
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