MURDER AT THE MANOR (OPEN ALL PT 2)

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

THREAD CONTINUED FROM HERE

PLEASE NOTE:

This takes place THE DAY AFTER THE MURDER (November 1) of the first part of the site wide plot. Some things you should be aware of before posting:

• All patients are being closely monitored, whether or not you're a high profile.
  
• The Pool Area is completely closed off, and no patients are allowed NEAR it.
  
• Security has been virtually doubled, and everyone is being forced to check into and out of rooms when they leave to keep tabs on every patient.
  
• To keep most in check, the yard and other patient hallways have been restricted to patients, and patients are only allowed in certain places (treatment rooms, padded rooms, hallways, ect) if they're with a security member or a member of staff, unless stated otherwise.
  
• Those who were first at the crime scene were questioned, and a list of possible suspects are on the staff inventory.
  
• Most patients will be questioned to where they were during those hours

There are also some clues left at the scene of the crime that everyone would be able to inform each other of:

• There was a rosary and cross held in the victim's hand.
  
• There was a struggle before the victim was murdered.
  
• It happened during the early hours of Halloween and All Hallows Eve, from nine PM October 30th to about eight in the morning on October 31.
  
• The current suspect of the murder is Jeremiah Andrews, but virtually anyone could be guilty.

[/center]

Cobra Jackson blinked tiredly as his head rested against the table, not enjoying how many more guards seemed to have surrounded the cafeteria that day. He was tired, and a little angry that the guards kept him from slipping off to the high profile wing to see some of his favourite people, but no, they kept him in check and told him he could only go to the rec room, and that was boring, especially since there were so many guards there it was like being in a prison. He huffed quietly, running his fingers over the table as he sat there, pondering if he should get another bowl of ice cream or not... why wouldn't he? He scratched his head, watching more and more people come in, seeing as there was suddenly a lack of things to do in the aslyum today. He gave a heavy sigh, listening to the handful of patients next to him talking about the murder. He couldn't help but roll his eyes - it was all starting to become annoying, and without realizing it, he stood up and found himself getting angry, glaring at the girl, "What's your reasoning for talking about that?! I mean, where where you when that happened? Asleep in your damn bed fucking some guy?!" he asked, suddenly getting defensive.

He didn't understand why he was getting defensive all of a sudden. It was like it was put into his head for some strange reason, but everything was inaccessible. He knew Jeremiah was the killer, everything screamed towards him - the clues, the fact that the damn high profile walked around without a guard half the time - he found himself getting frustrated for no reason, and the girls just continued to talk. CJ growled and pushed himself away from the table, going to sit at an empty one, pondering. The guard saw how upset he got and rubbed his back for a minute before giving the nineteen year old a pad of paper and a pencil, telling him to write down and see if he could "solve the mystery". CJ blinked and wrote his name down, followed by a 'I was asleep' before crossing it out and writing 'I was with Rafi and then I was asleep' on it. Now he just had to figure out who else to bother to make his complete alibi sheet.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[jay]

HE WHO MAKES A BEAST OUT OF HIMSELF
GETS RID OF THE PAIN OF BEING A MAN.

The outburst that snapped Quinn out of his reverie was a typical occurrence. However, the person who found himself yelling was definitely not your typical howler. Quinn was new to Lucid, but he knew him - Cobra. He knew him because of his interesting name, and, admittedly, his good looks. Quinn found him cute, like a puppy, or something akin. Quinn stopped dissecting his sandwich long enough to get a listen. Cobras was asked to see if he could 'solve the mystery' which was probably just a tactic to get him to calm down.

Quinn himself had already been questioned.

"What were you doing? Did you hear the scream?"

"I was puking up dinner. Then I went back to my room to do some jumping jacks," he'd chirped back, proudly. He got in trouble for that, and was going to be monitored after meals. Sigh. That's what one gets for being honest, he figured. He wasn't sure if he'd rather be a murder suspect or fat. And that was pathetic.

All disordered thoughts aside, he was really curious about Cobra, as well as taking on the case. Maybe he could play detective - that sounded like a lot of fun. The patient stood and strode from his table to Cobra's, tray in hand.

"I want to play detective, too," he blurted, a broad and lopsided grin plastered on his face. The faint, puckered scars of his glasgow grin shone in the fluorescents. Quinn ran a hand through his dark hair, and slapped that same hand down on the table. "But I have no leads."

When Quinn gets into character, he gets into character.

[Cameron Lain Gillespie]

Cameron had come in a day before the murders and while he knew about them and knew what was going on he did not want anything to do with it. He was no where near the pool the day before because he truly did not know anything would be going on there. So as of Halloween day and night it seemed like everything going on was kept in check. He had heard that the pool had been closed off completely to everyone, or at least everyone of the patients. He was not really caring too much that the security seemed to be much tighter, at the moment he had nothing to hide so why care.

He was just waiting for the time that he would be question because he knew to the staff everyone from low to high profile patients could be a suspect. Cameron knew though that he was not a killer but he was also known for his sleepwalking problems. Besides he was not even sure if he could fight someone who was perfectly able to fight him off. He did not remember anything except going to bed pretty early so he hoped that his sleepwalking would not be criticized in such a time.

Everything that was going through his head was happening as he was escorted to the cafeteria which seemed to become normal procedure since the day before. It irritated him in all reality so it caused him to be on edge at the current time and even though he did not look like much, or did not believe he looked like much he knew what he could be capable of when he was irritated. It did not help that he was not doing anything to work on his irritation. He did have a right to be irritated though, right?

As he came into the cafeteria everyone was eating lunch. Oh, how much he would have preferred to stay in his room and just starve it would be easier than having to be in with a good amount of people. He was self-conscious about himself so naturally being alone at a moment of congregation would be nice. He grabbed food to make him feel better if he had to be around some people at the moment. He got just a little bit enough to at least fill his stomach up with something rather than nothing. He laid the small tray of food and pushed on his wheels to move towards a table. There were two guys at a table and it looked to be the emptiest table of all of them. Well at least guys are more accepting than more so than girls.

He made his move towards the table and listed carefully as he listened to one of the males talk about playing detective but not having leads. He figured that must have been what the other male was writing about. He moved to the table and gave a soft smile. “Mind if take a seat?” he asked. His question was oddly ironic but what he meant was if he could join them. Maybe he should have asked that instead? No, what he said was fine.

[Ian E. Rodgers]

Death. Why was it always such a big deal? As far as the world was concerned, it was just a part of the great big “Circle of Life”. So this omnipresent aura of death in the asylum should be no big deal. Right? Well, apparently not so. This “death” shook not only the entire asylum, but the entire town. Who wants to live in a town where there not only is a loony bin, but with a loony bin where a murdered occurred? As if the town didn't act strange before, now people really started to tread foot around Lucid Manor. Just in case. Even the patients, all crazy, were starting to act even crazier. Random fits of rage and outbursts here and there. It seemed everyday at least one person was hauled away by security because of an outburst. But could the nurses and doctors really blame them? It wasn't fair to remained locked up where there was a possible murderer afoot. It was only natural for tempers to flair and everyones' guard to suddenly rise. Everyones' guard rose, that is, with the exception of a select few. And Ian was muddled into that select few.

The murder actually amused him greatly. He loved the chaotic feel within the Asylum, and all the doctors, nurses and security tried to hide that chaos by continuing everyday activity as if nothing happened. The only change the had occurred was the increase of security – nothing new for Ian, however. Ever since he had arrive, Doctors and Security watched his every move and noted every interaction he had with any individual he encountered. And honestly, Ian was getting pretty fed up with it. The murder was his reprieve from it all, because now EVERYONE was being watched like a hawk. Not just him and the other high profile patients.

Every high profile patient was an immediate suspect, because they were the ones labeled with term “dangerous”. Whatever. Ian laughed at the idea as he stood in line at the cafeteria. He thought back to the questioning process. Question and after question asked, as if it was a middle school game of “Twenty Questions”. And every question asked, Ian responded with apathetic, distant answers, which only pissed off authorities. They asked if he cared that someone had been murdered. Ian had chuckled, and said “no”. That shut them all up; they had no further questions. Morons.

”What the hell is that?” He asked under his breath, sniffing at a blob of supposed “meat”. Meal times were never anyones' favorite at the Asylum: lacking in taste, but pumped full of chemicals to keep you full and gaining weight. And it was unfortunate that a denial of this food could and would cause upset in the staff – more questions to be asked: “How are you feeling today?”, “Why didn't you eat your meal today?”, “Have you been losing your appetite?”, “We'll send you to Dr. ___ for further screening”. So to save the ridiculous questions and unnecessary therapy sessions, Ian and the other patients found it easier to just take the food with no hassle and to force it down. Great...

He grabbed his plate of “meatloaf” and turned to face the tables in the cafeteria. It was fairly empty for the lunch hours. Oh well, more room to sit. Now normally, Ian would sit and eat by himself, but the idea of the murder further intrigued him. And he noticed a small mob of boys sitting together and starting to chat idly. One of them at blown up at the group of girls across from him. He immediately caught Ian's attention and he smiled to himself as he strolled over to the table. A few of the faces were familiar. Did he know names? Of course not. But perhaps one of these boys had information on the murder – or anything else that could come of use to Ian. So he casually strolled over to them, dressed in ugly grey smocks. His smile appeared friendly, but honestly, Ian could care less about “making friends”.

”Yo.” He said, nodding to each of them. ”Mind if I pop a squat?”

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

Cobra Jackson Putnum didn't want to do this and "solve the mystery". He wanted to curl up in someone's lap and cuddle close and just sleep. But with all the extra security, he wasn't allowed to go hunt down Dominic or Azrael or anyone, and it had frustrated him. He wanted to just ignore all the hustle and bustle of what was going on and just sleep, but they said he had to leave his room to be "checked in" to places that he didn't want to go. Like the damn Cafeteria. He mumbled almost angrily under his breath and ripped the piece of paper with his name on it off and tossed it aimlessly on the table, and then doodled mindlessly on the next sheet of paper, virtually playing tic tac toe with himself. He turned slightly and leaned against the table with one of his sides, completely ignoring the piece of paper that he had started to write people's alibi's on. He wasn't smart enough to play detective.

But he didn't get too far in the process before someone came over and announced they wanted to play detective, and then say they had no leads. Easily annoyed, something that normally wasn't in Cobra's mood, he rolled his eyes at the statement, "Have fun. I was starting with people's alibis," he stated, almost rudely. Of course, he was just uninterested. and he didn't mean to sound rude - after all, everyone in Lucid Manor knew that Cobra Jackson was one of the sweetest kids around that talked to everyone and tried to make everyone happy. How could he be rude and mean... well, if he was throwing a temper tantrum, and he wasn't, "Knock yourself out." he said, dryly, to Quinn, more interested in doodling random squiggles on the sheet of paper.

Why couldn't these people leave him alone? After Quinn showed up, Cameron showed up, as well - and as much as CJ loved playing with Cameron, he wasn't in the mood. He gave another irritated huff and glanced up at Cameron with almost dark eyes before shrugging, "If you want. CJ doesn't care," he said, once again still more interested in the drawing than the boys around him. He was in a bad mood, and he didn't want to talk to people. It was childish, yes, but he wanted to curl up with his blankets and just sleep. He grumbled a little as yet another person came over and asked if they could 'pop a squat'. Final straw. He stood up suddenly, dropping the pad of paper and pencil to the ground, his hands flat against the table, eyes dark with anger as he stared at the high profile, "No. You're not allowed to sit here if you're going to talk like that. Only dumb asses talk like that. 'Pop a squat'," he mimicked, irritated. Man, someone really needed to calm CJ down before he just blew up even more.

[/justify]

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

Lucinda didn’t like the extra security. To her it was annoying enough to have one person watching you, but now there was a ton of people she didn’t like the look off. Security had at least doubled. It wasn’t something she wanted to deal with, part of her wanted to go back into the dark and let Amelia take over. Not that Amelia could deal with the thought of a murder, but Lucinda laughed at the thought of Amelia thinking she’d done it. But, the crazed girl didn’t actually care who’d done it. She partly wanted to find out just to get the security back to normal.

She got her food, and sat down near some people who were already going on about the murder. Sticking her fork into the slop they’d served up, she felt amused as she listened into their conversation. She rolled her eyes at points where she thought was stupid. The kids trying to figure out who did it, as if they could. The thing was they were surrounded by killers, they were surrounded by crazy people. It could be anyone. Heck, she was pretty sure it could have been one of the Doctors or nurses or one of the security members. Lucinda didn’t know who did it or why they did it, but to be honest, she didn’t care that much.

Listening to the boys, she heard CJ getting extremely mad. Chuckling to herself she continued to prod at the food, shaking her head. Low pro’s getting angry she thought to herself in a sing song voice in her head. In truth? She found the boys in this place hilarious. They seemed to thrive off the insanity. It amused her, just like the doctors did. It wasn’t had for Lucinda to see the funny side of things. She was here because she could cope with things, in her mind, it wasn’t insanity.

After poking and prodding at her food a while longer, she pushed it away from her, deciding that she wasn’t desperate enough for food right now. Who’d want to eat that crap? So instead, she watched the boys intently as they played their little detective game, wondering which one would start a fight first. That would be a lot more fun than trying to figure out who killed that girl.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Azrael didn't need any extra security, he had no time to fetch his stolen smokes and lighter and go smoke one in the janitor's closet in the Low profile's hallway, so he was itching for some nicotine. His guard really shouldn't be so stupid to keep his cigarette's in his pocket, especially when they had a spat. He grumpily entered the cafeteria and walked past his favorite nurse and gave her a playful spank, which got him a forceful shove. He snickered loudly, he was going to get her one day. He wandered around the cafeteria for a bit, noticing all the people freaking out, it made him tilt his head slightly, wondering why a little murder was such a bit deal.

At least to the cannibal it wasn't

Then again, he was probably up there with Manson and Bundy in these people's books. And like any serial killer and sociopath, he had a pretty big ego, in his mind, he was a god. He stopped and swiped a book out from under someone, who reached to take it back, then refused to meet Azrael's glare as he flipped through it, it was boring, so he tossed it back to the kid and sat down at a table by himself for a moment, observing everything. He noticed a rather pretty blonde sitting by a bunch of kids, and watched her for a moment, thinking about if he could get away with screwing with her emotions?

Probably not, especially right now.

He picked at his disgusting food for a bit, pulling a face, he didn't need this shit did he? No...but it wasn't really a choice he had a chance to make, he couldn't make it at all, so why was he fighting so hard? He didn't know. Azrael soon noticed CJ and gave him a small look as well, and thought about putting the kid in that state of mind where he would believe anything the cannibal said. He was a lying cheat, but hey, he liked it like that

"Hmm, what to do..."

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #8A00B8 10px solid; border-right: #8A00B8 10px solid; border-top: #8A00B8 10px solid; border-bottom: #8A00B8 10px solid; background: #d8d8d8; padding-top: 16px; padding-right: 10px; padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; width: 368px;] trust me and take my hand when the lights go out you will understand pain without love Cobra Putnum really wasn’t in the mood to deal with these people, he really wasn’t. He wanted nothing more than to simply eat and leave, but no, someone told him to ‘solve the murder’. As if a bunch of patients – especially him who was too stupid to even finish a puzzle. A murder was like a giant puzzle that even CJ couldn’t solve, even if he put his mind to it. He glared at the kids across from him before he shook his head and shoved the paper and writing utensil at them, “Here. If you all think you’re so much fucking better, just solve it yourself for all I care,” he said, not caring who he was swearing at and who he was around. Even though the majority of the time the nineteen year old acted like five year old, but that really didn’t matter – CJ was a nineteen year old and he definitely acted like a nineteen year old when the point came. He grumbled to himself as he stood up from the table and pushed himself away from the table, pulling at his hair a little – it was a little nasty habit that he often had when we was in a bad mood and just couldn’t control himself from doing. It was a form of pain, but he didn’t really care, because it was less obvious than something like, say, digging his fingernails into skin or something. He grumbled to himself as he stepped away from the now busy table, feeling the urge to flip out on someone – something that wasn’t always good in his opinion, because CJ had a knack for flipping out unless someone was there to tell him to stop. And Raphael wasn’t anywhere to be found, and the guards would just sedate him… he hadn’t even noticed Azrael sitting watching him for a moment as he made his way through the part of tables until his foot got caught on something. He wasn’t sure what, but it sent him stumbling before falling – his knees hitting the linoleum floor first, and his head and face hitting the back of someone. CJ groaned a little, his head still against the middle of the unknown person’s back, “Sorry. I tripped. I didn’t mean to hi…” he pushed away, apologizing, stopping when he realized that he just had to fall against the cannibal that he enjoyed talking to. Of course – what a twisted tale of irony. pain I cant get enough pain I like rough cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all tag: cafeteria peeps words: 405 lyrics: pain - three days grace