Silence makes it easier (Cobra)

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Oh Azzy was being a bad boy, a very, bad boy.

He was hanging through the bars of his cell, staring at a nurse walking down the hall, his mouth watering slightly. She looked absolutely tantilizing, what he would give for a little piece of that. He whistled at her and did a few catcalls “Hey sweetheart! Looking tasty today!” He called, giving a Halloween grin and howled with laughter, she glared and walked off, he whistled at her again and fell back on his cot, then went back to the guards “Oi! Security boy! I wanna go for a walk”

Azrael demanded, scowling and hit his hands against his bars, the security guard went to go get him and Azzy played nice while he did up his straight jacket, grabbing the front of the fabric to add a little slack, then got walked down the hallway, he made a soft noise and wandered around, a man was wheeled down in a chair and he lunged at Azrael, who lunged right back and got yanked back in to line. The guard pushed Azrael along and sighed, the far taller man was probably the worse tempered person they had at this institution.

Azzy was brought a little further in the hallway, then made a run for it, the soldier tailing him closely, Azrael taking a sharp turn and ran in to the nurse, giving her a look as he landed on top of her “Well hello sweetheart” He spoke, licking her cheek and bit her, then got up and ran off, the Guard running after him and pounced on him, pinning Azrael to the ground “You shithead!” He growled, the Sociopath grinned “I love when you talk dirty to me” The Guard growled and stood up, pulling Azrael along in the hallway, a scowl on his face. Azzy was happily singing and laughing so loud that it echoed around the facility.

He was brought to the room with the padded cells and was thrown in one, the door slammed shut and the guard looked in on him “Do not do it again” “Awuh, but where’s the fun in that?” He howled, laughing hysterically again, then sat down on the floor in a darkened corner, biting his lip and wondering why he was even here, it made him almost....almost think about his actions. Then again, he was proud as hell of who he was. He sat by himself for a while and stared at the ceiling a bit more, until the rusty old door opened and he looked over, not sure why the door was open at all, and it raised a quizzical feeling inside him as he made a small clicking noise.

Why would they throw another person in with one of the most notorious people here at Lucid anyways.

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 469
outfit
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[/center]

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

When Cobra Jackson wanted his pain, he was a sneaky little fellow. Sometimes, his on and off mentality of a child would work wonders for him, especially since he got his way most of the time – temper tantrums, crying, pointing fingers at people who made him sad… it was all clever little ploys to get what he wanted. And right now, the biggest want that he wanted was pain. Of course, the little masochist always wanted pain, and he ignored the guards as he casually followed along from the high profile rooms to the padded rooms. He wasn’t allowed IN the hallway of the high profiles – mostly because all he did was get them into trouble by begging them for pain – so he stood out the end of the hallway and when Azrael Dalicy walked by – strait jacket and all – CJ couldn’t help but follow – a safe distance so that he wouldn’t get into trouble.

He followed the man and his guard towards the padded room, where he watched as Azrael was tossed into one and the door shut. The guard stood there for a while and CJ thought cleverly… and when the idea came, he almost squealed. He made himself look like he was being punched, crying and everything and slipped to the guard, pulling on the guy’s sleeve, “There’s… there’s a fight over there…” he said, pointing around the corner he had just came. The guard stupidly fell for it – even to just go look. Gave CJ enough time to push the door open a little and slip in, shutting the door silently behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, his eyes locked onto Azrael, and a giant grin formed upon his face as he hopped over the soft, padded floor towards one of his favourite pain givers, “Azzy~.” he sang, quietly, so the guard outside wouldn’t hear. Getting out would be a bitch but that’d be later. He found himself next to Azrael on his knees, a look of pure excitement passing over his face, “CJ has come to save the day! Is Azrael happy CJ came?” he questioned, tilting his head. It was strange – he had this craving – this other urge – to make sure he pleased this man. Was it because more often than not, this man used him as a toy, controlled even the words the nineteen year old uttered on a daily basis? Probably – but CJ didn’t figure that one out yet.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Azrael stared at the ceiling a bit more, and got ready to curl up for a nap, not going to give the guard the satisfaction of him going insane in the cell. Besides, he always slept the best when he was in the padded room anyways. He curled up on the floor and closed his eyes for a moment and he tried a breathing exercise he was given to keep his attitude in check, and his heart rate. Yes, Azzy had heart troubles, but it didn’t affect him like they should have, in fact he hardly noticed when his heart randomly stopped beating for a few seconds.

It had become so regular for him that he hardly cared anymore, though the doctor brought up the fact that it should, it never did. Had it since he was a kid too, but whatever, it wasn’t a big issue in his mind, so he decided to keep it that way. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard a familiar voice. He sat up and listened carefully, he knew that voice well, it was that little kid that followed him everywhere. He stood up to go look out the barred window and sure enough it was Cobra. He snickered softly to himself and went to go sit back down, had to admit, that kid was a clever one.

Azrael sat back down in his corner and listened to CJ tell the guard that he had been punched and that there was a fight, and the stupid bastard went to go look, Azrael snickered softly and settled back down in his corner, then when the door opened and Cobra walked in, a stern look appeared on his face, he tolerated the kid, maybe even the serial killer had a soft spot for the guy. Cobra reminded him of Sunny, always following him around and begging for his attention....yep, he was just like sunny in his own way.

He looked over at Cobra when he called him Azzy, and he tilted his head a little, looking up at him from his slouched position, head low “Cj” He responded, his tone flat and emotionless, the kid asked him if he was happy that he came, and that he was going to save the day. Azrael sat up straight and looked at him “Of course, little masochist, I always enjoy your company” He spoke feeling a little frustrated when he couldn’t pet Cobra’s hair, thanks to the damn jacket “That security guard is one dumb bastard isn’t he?”

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 425
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

Cobra had the urge to climb into Azrael’s lap and just cuddle. He loved cuddling – he wasn’t usually a cuddle-buddy person, but when he was with people who made him feel important, well… that was when he felt the need to want to cuddle with them. With Azrael it was almost the same type of thing – the man knew how to control him, knew what he liked and didn’t like, and made sure he reminded CJ who was in control, to say the least. He really wanted to just cuddle, but he knew Azrael didn’t particularly like that, but soon enough he had dismissed it and was studying Azrael with his bright eyes, almost eagerly. This man had made him feel wanted without even trying, and CJ was more often than not like a boomerang – once you throw him, he’ll keep coming back. Of course, he wasn’t a kangaroo killer – he was just CJ, the pain loving low profile patient stuck here in Lucid Manor. But alike all druggies, his drug wasn’t something that he had to sniff or poke himself, he just had to bother the right people, and voila. He was in the world of his prefect drug.

He was mindless as he reached out and gently touched the strait jacket keeping Azrael confined, his fingers brushing against the rough materials that it was made out of. He didn’t like strait jackets – he didn’t like the feelings of being so physically controlled, so confined in a little spot, being unable to feel pain in the upper part of his body. As much as he liked being controlled, it was all mentally, and the thoughts of the few times Raphael Rathebone had stuck him in a strait jacket made him shudder visibly. He wondered if Azrael enjoyed the confines of the strait jacket – and the thoughts crossed his mind as he tilted his head, the man’s voice snapping him out of his thoughts. He had called CJ a “little masochist” and likewise, agreed about enjoying his company. It made his smile grow on his face again.

The next part made CJ tilt his head though, lost in thought. The Security Guard was a dumb bastard, but CJ did have an air of pulling tricks. He scratched his head, studying the other man before shifting a little, “CJ was lying. CJ doesn’t lie, but CJ knows Azrael likes it when CJ comes and finds him. CJ didn’t want you to be lonely – does Azzy want CJ to help?” he pulled a little on the strait jacket, lost in thought, studying the arms of it before his blue eyes locked with Azrael’s, questioning.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Azrael’s perfect drug was murder. Plain and simple, he loved the way it felt, the rush it gave him when he delivered the final blow, when the light in the person’s eyes went out. When that final breath came, squeaky, shallow, rusty, oh god that got him off....That and the sight of the blood. He loved watching them bleed out and claw to try and save their pathetic little lives. The way they choked on their own fluids, eyes wide reaching out to touch him. It was the ultimate aphrodisiac for him...if he had someone to share this addiction with....He’d be getting laid quite a bit. Sadly, he killed and ate the last person he tried to have a relationship with...she didn’t taste that good at all.

Cannibalism was another of his freak addictions, he liked sinking his teeth in to a rare cooked arm or leg, it was the sweetest meat there was out there, and the most tender of them all. He hated how long it took to cook though, fuck did it take forever. Oh well, it was worth the wait...or that’s what he thought anyways. He looked over at Cj, wondering what he was thinking, the glazed look in his eyes meant he was thinking long and hard about something, but he couldn’t be too sure. Azrael wasn’t one to cuddle, he didn’t have the mentality to enjoy such a contact form, it weirded him out a little, being so close to another being. Then again, he hadn’t cuddled in a VERY long time....Not since his mother was murdered had he ever considered cuddling with someone.

He was a sick freak and he knew it, then his mind wandered to his straightjacket....he did love the feeling of it. Being so confined and have it so close to his skin, it kept him warm and the sleeves had little straps on the ends of them so he could whip people with them. It made him feel like Indiana Jones at times. He watched as CJ reached and gently touched the fabric of his jacket, and it made him wonder if the kid liked them at all? By the look on his face, Azzy guessed it was a no.

He wondered why he didn’t? They made him feel....almost good. Almost. Nothing was really good for him anymore either considering the company he kept. When Cj called him Azzy, an amused look appeared on his face..’Azzy’ was what his mum called him, and he found it funny that the kid had taken to calling him that as well “If you want to help, you could undo the clasps that bind the sleeves” He commented, tilting his head a little

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 436
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

CJ couldn’t help but smile at Azrael, his mind throwing away all logical reasoning behind. He didn’t know why he had snuck in through the thick door just to be with the older man, and he didn’t know why he felt so… attached to him. It was strange – feeling that way, feeling so… needy to someone else. He figured it was one of three things: the medication his doctor put on really made him crave his pain more than dull it, his doctor or some other person put it in his head to be needy to those who give him his pleasure or three, his cravings were really just starting to get too much for him to handle. Whatever the reason, he was sitting there on his knees, in front of Azrael, studying him with his stupid, mindless look as always. It didn’t even phase him that if the security guard decided to come in, he’d be absolutely screwed and in horrible amounts of trouble. He didn’t care.

He asked if Azrael wanted help out, and looked at the man as he said to undo the clasps holding his arms tight across his chest. Mindlessly, CJ nodded and crawled on his hands and knees around the back of Azzy and with a bit of nervous fingers, managed to fumble with the clasps before they sprung to be released. A wide grin appeared on his face and he quickly bounced back to sitting in front of Azrael, eager eyes, “CJ did it! Does CJ get rewarded now?” he asked, almost excitedly. Usually, when he did something right, he was rewarded. Operant conditioning, some doctors called it, even though CJ didn’t know what that was, it didn’t really matter to him. If he got his pain for doing something like someone said, that’s all that mattered to him.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Azrael wasn’t really sure why Cobra had an obsession with him, it could be because he was powerful, strong, scary. The list could go on, but Azzy knew that boasting about himself was a little stupid, everybody here knew what he did to get stuck in the facility, he didn’t need to brag about it at all. His intrest in the Sociopath confused Azrael to the point where he just didn’t know what to say anymore, this attachment could be seen as odd enough to draw questions, not that he really cared that much anyways, people were always going to say things that hurt others.

Azrael’s medication made him active, and want to do everything all at once, but he only took it on rare occasions. He normally stuffed them in his mattress when he didn’t want to be all doped up. He hated being so incoherent and dumb. One thing he didn’t mind were the pleasures in his life, he hadn’t had any of the things he liked since he had been in the facility, but he guessed he had no control over that. Girls didn’t like Sociopaths apparently, and he was alright with that, better them be afraid of him then try to get close to him.

Azrael let out a small sigh as CJ went and undid the clasps on his jacket to release his arms, and he waited, keeping an eye on the door just in case the dumb security guard decided to show up again. It made him almost angry that they couldn’t leave him alone at all, always had to be watching him like a hawk because, god forbid, Azrael actually walked by himself. When CJ got the clasps undone, Azrael let out a sigh of relief and let his arms fall limply by his sides.

He looked over at Cj and nodded once “Of course” He spoke, grabbing the boy’s hair roughly, pulling him towards him a little, a scowl on his face, then he let go “Are you good or do ya want more?”

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 340
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

Cobra was a little excited. The greatest thing about being such a submissive little masochist sometimes was that he was easily pleased – and if he did something right, most of the time he got a reward, and if he did something bad, well, he was either punished or ignored completely and those were motivation enough for him to work harder. He was programmed to make people happy – or at least, that’s what he was learning each day he was in Lucid Manor. He tilted his head a little, his mind lost in thought about it; before, his father had simply used his weakness to pain for pleasure, and CJ didn’t mind, because CJ liked the pain, but while he was here, his doctor – Raphael Rathebone – had twisted it into his mind that if he wanted his pain, he had to work for it, and if he had worked for it, he’d be able to be feel good. It was something that he was slowly adjusting to, as well as learning a little of himself each and every day.

He watched as Azrael sighed almost heavily and dropped his arms, limp. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before sitting back, his blue eyes narrowing in on the older man with almost excited eyes. He had unconsciously asked if he got a reward – it was an automatic reaction that he had been forced to say and ask. He reddened in the face when he realized – a little late – that he had selfishly asked, and he opened his mouth to apologize but Azrael had spoken first, agreeing about the reward, and CJ’s mouth twisted into a smile. Without realizing it, Azrael had grabbed his hair and pulled him a little towards him, scowling. CJ moved without thinking, tumbling forward towards the man, biting his lip, holding back the moan, his eyes looking up at Azrael, pleading, wanting more. And then, the tug on his scalp disappeared and Azrael seemed to pull away a little, asking if he was good, or if he wanted more. CJ hesitated – biting his lip, “CJ… CJ wants more, sir,” he had whispered, mindless, lost in the pounding still rushing through his head, “CJ will work for it, though… Azrael just says what CJ needs to do…” he admitted, eyeing Azrael with his same eager eyes as always.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Azrael wasn’t really sure why Cobra had an obsession with him, maybe it was because the kid was easily impressed, or maybe it was because he depended on the Sociopath for his medicine. Yes, Azzy referred to it as Medicine or Medication, like a Nymphomaniac refers to sex as a medication. Azrael wondered why he was so...happy all the time when the older man was near, it puzzled him and soon he started to think about this a little more, and the more he thought about it, the more he began to realize that he didn’t actually hate Cobra’s company.

In fact, he found him quite easy to tolerate on certain days, while others, well he could bear to put up with himself certain days. The first day he was at lucid he went ballistic and broke a mirror, then tried to stab a doctor with the shards. Not his fault, he just caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror in this....cage like facility, and he wasn’t one to be all tied up like an animal, it pissed him off more than anything. He didn’t like being all cooped up and observed and poked like some sort of lab animal.

He wasn’t a lab animal at all. When he yanked on Cobra’s hair, the sociopath watched that little look he got when something felt really, really good. A release from the world, Azzy wondered if pain would do anything for him. He bit his lip when he thought about this and yanked C.J’s hair again, it probably would, he enjoyed watching others in pain, why wouldn’t a little session with a flogger be any different? He shrugged and let go Of Cj’s hair, and his mouth twisted into a Halloween grin as the kid called him Sir. He liked being the boss.

Azzy tilted his head and noticed the change of tone in CJ’s voice “Good” He spoke, crossing his legs and sitting up a little straighter. When he wanted more, and asked what he could do for more, Azzy grinned “Well, I’ll give you a good long session with the flogger if you can get me out of here and get me a pack of smokes” He spoke, tilting his head a little “Fair trade?”

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 377
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

CJ stared blankly at Azrael, his head tilting to the side. He was a tease – the older man was, at least. CJ was honestly craving his pain now, and the man was going to hold it over his head like a pony and a carrot. It kind of frustrated him a little, and the mildly annoyed look only seemingly crossed his face for a moment as he listened to what the man wanted. He wanted CJ to get him out of the padded rooms and a pack of smokes. He thought about it – those were both highly dangerous things to do, but if it made Azrael happy, who was CJ to say no? Honestly, he virtually couldn’t, “CJ will get into trouble,” he said, without thinking, blinking a few times, “It’ll make Azzy happy though…” quite honestly, he was having a verbal discussion with himself, almost like a T-chart that was “POSITIVES” and “NEGATIVES”… right there in front of the sociopath. No wonder Cobra was admitted to Lucid Manor. He obviously had a few screws missing somewhere in his head.

He was obvious turmoil, debating what he should do and what he shouldn’t do. He wanted to help Azrael – not really help, but wanted to make the older man happy – it was his submissiveness and easily controlled nature that had brought this on – but at the same time, he didn’t want to get into trouble. If he managed to sneak out Azrael and was caught, he’d be locked up in a strait jacket and confined to Solitary Confinement and he’d go crazy without any pain for however long Raph would put him in there for. It might be a day, it could be a week… the thought of being so physically confined made him shudder visibly, backing up from Azrael a bit and settling himself with his knees, resting his forehead against them.

The thought of getting into trouble almost put him down into a depressed mood, something he was known for with screaming, crying and throwing temper tantrums. Rarely did he kick, punch or bite, but on the occasion. The last time one of his temper tantrums had gone out, he had kicked a guards shin and Raphael had strapped him to the bed in solitary confinement for a week and a half, making sure to give him this liquidy medicine that really just made him not have his cravings. It was his punishment, and he didn’t like when Raph made him go through those… all to help one person. Usually, he knew his doctor didn’t mind when people gave him his pain, but… no, CJ couldn’t. But he wanted to – no, needed to. He needed the pain like a cocaine addict needed his cocaine.

He bit his lip, thinking, shaking a little at the thoughts of what Raphael would do to him if he was caught doing something like that. Then there was the thoughts of if he did manage to steal a pack of smokes – cigarettes – for Azrael, what would happen if he was caught? He’d be forced into a medium profile, had to take more pills... and obviously, as usual, Raph wouldn’t be happy. He was Raph’s perfect little puppy at times, following along obediently to anything the man said, but that was likewise to virtually anyone who knew how to twist his thoughts to making him walk in step with their thoughts without any type of hesitation…

Without really any thought, his grey with slight green tinted eyes looked up to Azrael, one of those few people who made him feel so good all the time, so wanted, so… loved. Maybe love wasn’t the word that Azrael would use, but CJ loved everyone and he figured, unless they told him that he was hated by someone – thought they loved him back. And it wasn’t anything like lovey-dovey stuff, but like… a friendly love. He looked dazed, confused, mindless at Azrael, “CJ doesn’t know what to do, sir…” he finally admitted to Azrael, hoping the older man could give him a straight answer. After all, CJ hated having his own thoughts and having to make his own decisions.

[/justify]

[Azrael Dalicy]

Can someone tell me what is wrong with my mind
Seeing through my eyes

Azrael thought about this for a moment...was he a shameless tease when it came to dishing out pain? He guess he was a little, he was also a shameless manipulator, he got what he wanted or everyone suffered. He knew this well, after his little deal broke with a nurse at a previous facility...well....he got beat up. How was he supposed to know she was a crazy bitch who couldn’t be satisfied? He didn’t think she enjoyed his company THAT much, He was only using her anyways to ease a little...shall we say illness that needed to be remedied. Not his fault.

She was the one that said yes anyways. He had gotten in deep crap for that one, just because she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut he had to suffer at her hands. So he had killed her. Strangled her after a little round of fun, then dumped her body in the main office area. Never did they link the murder to him, even though his hands were the only ones big enough to match the bruises on her shoulders, hips and neck. He later ate her, and he had never eaten anyone who was as sweet as she had been, it was a shame too, he liked the color of her hair.

Not to say that Azrael was picky with the ones he decided to murder, he was only picky with those he wanted to eat, almost like he was taking the pick of the litter. That was why he hadn’t shoved CJ away much, he tolerated the kid, and saw him as either his ‘replacement’ in the world, or as something that would go good with a side of mashed potatoes and corn. He didn’t want to hurt the kid, really, he just thought of him occasionally as supper.

Azrael noticed the bit of annoyance that seeped in to Cj’s expression, he didn’t like it much and was tempted to smack it off the kid’s face, but remembered that he needed the young one to get him what he needed out of life, mostly because he was lazy as fuck and wouldn’t do it himself. How could the kid say no anyways, all Azzy wanted were some smoked in trade for a good, long session with the flogger, it couldn’t be more simple, or in his mind anyways. Azrael tilted his head a little, not liking CJ’s response.

“Not if CJ’s smart about it” Azrael spoke, narrowing those dark brown eyes of his ever so slightly. If a trade off didn’t work, he’d certainly use intimidation to get what he wanted. He noticed that look in Cobra’s eyes that meant he was thinking long and hard about something specific, and he thought out loud again “It would make Azrael happy, oh so very, very happy” He spoke, his tone thick and smooth like velvet, trying to get his way whatever the cost was. He liked getting things his own way and he’d be damned if things didn’t happen that way.

Azrael was watching him weigh the pros and con while he thought about getting him the smokes. The sociopath knew it wouldn’t be that hard, there was a blonde down the hallway who literally gets her heroin every other day because of a deal she made. He knew that the younger one didn’t want to get in to trouble, trouble meant straight jacket and solitary and he knew that CJ didn’t want solitary, that way he couldn’t get his medication. Azzy was lost in his own thoughts for a while as well until CJ spoke up again “It’s simple, sneak me out and put me in my room, and organize a pack of smokes to be smuggled inside the facility, not that hard” Azrael murmured, tilting his head a little.

tag(s) Cobra
word count -- 633
Music (C) Broken Bones

Criticise the way I dress and talk
I wish you'd drop dead or take a walk

[Cobra Jackson Putnum]

CJ Putnum was never the smartest boy in school, or the sharpest tool in the shed. To say the least, he was more often than not simply oblivious. He wasn’t the smartest when it came to personal decisions and thoughts, and even more so, if someone knew how he thought, everything down to what he was going to eat could be predetermined for him. It was almost as if he was a robot more times than not, and even the less-than-dominating person would put it into his head of what he could and couldn’t do. Maybe that was why he was so… interested in this older man who sat across from him, eyeing him with dark eyes. He knew how to handle him, to control him, to twist his mind to making CJ do as he pleased, and that was always something that CJ enjoyed. He was vocal with his thoughts, a habit, yes, one that was embedded into him from that damn elementary boarding school – the one where he’d have private lessons with the headmaster and a handful of teachers after classes and forced to explain what he was thinking. They brain washed him into not being able to think things without someone judging him, or scold him. The thoughts brought up memories which just gave CJ a little hint of a shiver, the one that passed down his spin. A hint of horrible memories that were spread too thin, and yet always engraved in his head, no matter how hard he tried to get them to disappear.

He blinked, looking up at Azrael as he replied to CJ’s own words, almost like he was reinforcing what he wanted into CJ’s skull and mind. His former teachers did that to him, too. When he questioned, they’d make him rethink. He hesitated mentally, looking at the way Azrael’s face looked – the slight tension in the jaw, the almost unnoticeable way his eyes narrowed slightly, the annoyance almost seemingly written across his face. CJ turned his eyes down, staring at his feet as he continued, listening to Azrael speak again about how it’d make him very, very happy. That, right there, was something that pushed CJ off the fence of inability of decisions. If it made Azrael happy, how was he supposed to refuse? He enjoyed making the older man happy, maybe not because of anything in a physical relationship, but he did enjoy having his friends be happy at him, and more times than not, if he was a good boy, Azrael would give him little treats for making him happy, like the earlier hair pulling when he got his arms free from the locks that held his strait jacket together. He nodded, completely mindless, at Azrael.

The padded room they sat in fell silent, an eerie silence that stretched through the room, hit every little atom, space and bit of light there. CJ’s eyes studied his feet for another minute before he picked his head up, staring with almost distant eyes as Azrael said it was simple, and all he had to do was sneak him to his room and get him a pack of smokes from outside. He thought about it, long and hard – there were a few guards who smoked… one of them was on duty. He mulled about it before suddenly standing up, pacing, rubbing his head, a little frustrated… well, he looked frustrated but in reality he was contemplating. He knew the walk from the padded rooms to the high profile wing, and more specifically, to Azrael’s room – hey, he was a stalker, what could he say – and then, just as fast as the movement started, he stopped, his grey eyes glancing over to Azrael and taking a few steps close to the older man, squatting down to look into the man’s dark eyes.

“CJ has a plan,” he announced, giving a curt not, and a face of determination, “CJ will get the guard away, and while CJ does that, Azzy goes and stands in the corridor in the opposite direction in the shadows. There’s a guard that walks by, but he already went by so there shouldn’t be any other guards until the next hallway. I’m only going to lead the guard a good distance away and lead him on a wild goose chase then I’ll come find you. CJ knows where all the guards are now,” he nodded curtly and stood up, giving Azrael an unconscious pet on the head – not to mean anything lower or anything, but the physical contact between himself and someone he was helping was practically needed to remind himself to stay calm. He slipped to the door, knocked on it and hid behind when the guard looked into the window and opened the door to peer at Azrael with dark eyes. Nothing was said, and the guard turned, shutting the door (or rather, pulling the door somewhat shut thinking it was going to shut itself the rest of the way) and CJ pulled his fingers in the crack, opening it and slipping out behind the guard. He shut the door so it was open just a little bit before stepping out from the guard, tapping the guy on the shoulder, “Excuse me, sir. There’s a problem. Mr. Holt told me to come get you, because he can’t do it himself… and his radio isn’t working,” he said, sadly, pointing off towards the cafeteria.

The guard looked almost stupidly and once again fell for the low profile’s tricks, saying something and started towards the cafeteria. CJ pushed the door open a little bit more and followed the man like a puppy, feeding him lies about Eliot Holt needing him for a fake fight that was happening in the cafeteria. For just a little moment, CJ hoped that Azrael would listen to him, and trust that he knew what he was doing. He may be stupid sometimes, but he was definitely cunning like a little kid… especially when it was really, really needed… like now.

THREAD ENDED
BUT CONTINUED HERE