Get me out of here...! (Open)

[Ian E. Rodgers]

It was a dull, languid afternoon in the Asylum. And the clock struck three-o-clock in the late afternoon. From now until dinner was designated “free time” to do whatever a patient wanted to do. “Whatever”, that is, that followed the rules and regulations of Lucid Manor. Some were outside, some were inside, while others aimlessly wandered and aimlessly chattered. Ian's boredom found him in the Rec Room, lounging and sprawled on one of the arm chairs. He was watching TV and thoroughly unamused by the beholder of the remote control's choice.

Fucking Spongebob...

The little twit next to him giggled excitedly as the yellow square of idiocy giggled and sang about “F.U.N.”. Ian couldn't help but groan and glare at the TV in disgusted awe. His attention shifted to the idiot patient who controlled the remote, still laughing and giggling – as if he were a child of five-years-old. Ian's glower was of disgust and bemusement. What idiot past eight still watches Spongebob Squarepants? Oh yea, that's right. Ian was locked up in a loony bin. The mental capacity of the average patient was someone around the age of eleven. So the choice in TV program shouldn't have surprised him.

His eyes rolled in the back of his head and Ian grumbled a curse under his breath. The patient next to him didn't take the hint and continued to giggle. Ian had had enough and stood up from his chair. He approached the still chortling patient who was oblivious to Ian's approach, and snatched the remote from the patient's hand. The patient looked to Ian, then to the remote and then to Ian again and began to wail. His cries went in one ear and out the other as Ian could care less. He collapsed back in the chair and flipped through the channels listlessly with no interest. He doubted to find anything worth watching. Most, if not all the channels in this place were blocked or monitored – even including fucking Spongebob Squarepants.

”I'm gonna tell!” The patient whined.
”Piss off, asshole...!"

Ian waved the remote at the patient in a dismissive manner and continued to flip through the channels. He would find something to watch. He had[/u] to. He refused to succumb his brain to the lunacy of the “little sponge who lived under the sea.”

[Lyra E. Philips]

*-- Everything was about routine here at Lucid Manor and it was driving her crazy. It wasn’t that she was against routines or anything, but the organization of it all was proving to be completely unobtainable for her. Not to mention she’d been in here for a few weeks now and was still yet to find someone who could traffic ecstasy to her. The withdrawal from her choice drug was making her irritable beyond belief, which was quite the opposite of her usual energetic personality. And for some reason, she also assumed it was from the lack of ex, she hadn’t been able to get any decent sleep in awhile.

*--Dressed in simple white tank top with a pair of blue denim jeans and a black jacket, she walked slowly down the hallway to one of her more frequent destinations. Lyra had grown to really appreciate the Recreational room, despite all of its usual drama. The TV’s, patients, and other activities usually helped her to some extent to keep her mind off of things. As she made her slow and quiet entrance, she noticed the TV immediately blaring SpongeBob. Lyra ran her hand through her long dark brown hair with a sigh. Well, it wasn’t her first choice in something to watch but the kid who was watching it had his eyes glued to the screen. Hearing the laughter and giggles brightened her mood somewhat, so she started to walk over and join in his fun.

*--That notion was short-lived however as she saw one of the high profile patients snatch the remote from the poor boys hands. Lyra’s face instantly hardened as she waited to see what would happen- fighting the urge to walk over and snatch it right back form the high profiles hands. While most people would know better then to try to take on someone so much bigger then her 5’3 self, the impulsive recklessness of her bipolar overrode that. When she heard the wailing of the boy though, it pushed her over the edge a bit.

*--Ignoring the guard who’d been standing their oblivious to the small confrontation, Lyra took matters into her own hands and quickly went to stand in between the bully and his channel flipping TV. How rude could one get? He didn’t even know what he wanted to watch yet the person that was there first couldn’t enjoy their show? Leaning forward, she snatched the remote back from him and crossed her arms- showing absolutely no fear of repercussion in her face.

“He was watching it first you jerk.”

TAGGED IAN
WORD COUNT 427 WORDS.
NOTES Hope its okay!
LYRIC CREDIT WINGS OF A BUTTERFLY BY HIS INFERNAL MAJESTY
CREDIT - CAROLYN AT CAUTION 2.0 MADE THIS TEMPLATE.

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[Ian E. Rodgers]

He had finally settled on some documentary show about animals of the Sahara desert. It would have to do. It was better than the other patient's choice of viewing. So Ian sighed once more and slouched further in the chair, eyes lazily studying the array of animals described. Then, a figure blocked his view. And at first, Ian would've flipped out told the individual to get the hell out of his way. But as his eyes focused further on the figure, he noted curvature of hips and a waist. A girl. His eyes found her and before Ian could flash her an alluring, ravishing smile, she snapped at him.

”He was watching it first you jerk!”

Ah. What else was new? Typical insult after insult. Ian was completely bulletproof and had heard them all. But the fact that she had the gall to approached him and scold him for being such a “jerk” really turned him on. He sighed apologetically and was about to turn it back to the previous program – fucking Spongebob – when he realized she was now the new possessor of the remote control. Ian was in disbelief on how she could snatch it from him without his knowing. Now she really peaked his interest.

He sat up straighter in the air and leaned forward on his knees and exhaled heavily in final defeat. Had it been a guy, Ian wouldn't have thought twice about fighting back. But because it was a girl, and a gorgeous one at that, he allowed her victory.

”Can you blame me?” His icy blue eyes wandered up and met hers. ”It's freakin' Spongebob Squarepants. Who can stand that show?”

She was unamused as her expression didn't alter one bit. So Ian played along with her disgust in him and choked out an apology.

”Okay, okay. I'm sorry”.

It was like poison leaking from his mouth as he apologized. Was it a sincere apology? Of course not. Ian was the complete opposite of sincere. But he wanted to get on this girl's good side; wanted to stand with her good graces. So he acted the part of being sincere and looked up to her once more with an attempt of wanting to make himself look innocent to her. Should she choose to fall for it, well, that was her mistake.

(Hope you don't mind that I wrote about Lyra's expression not changing. x.x)

[Lyra E. Philips]

*-- Lyra watched him, the annoyance evident in her features. More then anything she really felt like whacking the remote in her hands over his head a few times. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so quick to interrupt someone else’s fun next time. But even she knew better then that. Once someone was a bully it was down right near impossible to make him or her be nice. Frustrated, she lightly tapped the remote on her arms, which were still crossed as she glared at the boy. She wasn’t sure what she expected him too say, but she wasn’t leaving until he at least apologized. ‘Can you blame me? Its freakin’ Spongebob Squarepants. Who can stand that show?’ More annoyance flickered in her face but for the most part she kept it blank and un-amused. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry.’

*--She didn’t believe him, not for even a second. Lyra tilted her head to the side a bit at the sound of the apology though. While she knew better then to believe him, it was much easier to just go along with it rather then start a fight. Besides, she’d won right? She’d gotten the remote and an apology from the bully. It almost made her want to do a small dance of victory and she probably would have if she hadn’t been feeling a bit ill already. Damn Withdrawals.

“Good.”

*--Her voice came out a little harsher then she’d meant it to but honestly, she felt absolutely no fear in talking like this to a high profile patient. Hell, Lyra didn’t even fear the doctors who could hurt her any chance they had. That thought reminded her of her father and she wondered where he was right about now, and if he was the bully’s doctor. Breaking her chain of thought, she pivoted on her feet and walked over- handing the other patient the remote back.

“Here ya go. Hold on to it next time, kay?”

*--With a simple motion, she patted the patient on the head gently before shifting her gaz towards the bully once more but made no attempt to approach him, still slightly fuming from the interaction a few moments ago. A heated blush rose to her cheeks, arising from the sudden increase in body temperature at her anger. Walking over to one of the couches in the room, she sat down on it and unzipped her jacket before slipping out of it and balling it up on her lap. Lyra began to fidget with the jacket zipper as she crossed her legs and took an Indian style position among the cushions of the beige velvety feeling couch.

TAGGED IAN
WORD COUNT 435 WORDS.
NOTES Hope its okay! Sorry its so late!
LYRIC CREDIT WINGS OF A BUTTERFLY BY HIS INFERNAL MAJESTY
CREDIT - CAROLYN AT CAUTION 2.0 MADE THIS TEMPLATE.

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