Welcome
Now come one, come all to this tragic affair----

Welcome to Nightmares & Daydreams. A modern day rp that takes place in a psychiatric hospital.

You were thrown in here for one reason or another. Dumped in this hellhole they call Daniel Grey Psychiatric Hospital, or actually more commonly known as the local loony bin of California. When you think "psychiatric hospital" or "mental institution" I'm sure the first thing you think are those scary asylums they have in the movies with bright white lights everywhere and people in straight jackets not talking to each other.

I guess in a way Daniel Grey is like that in the sense that a lot of the walls and floors here are a bright white. But there aren't any people in straight jackets and a lot of the people here talk to each other. Actually the patients here are friendly in most cases, save for the few that are anti-social beyond belief. And they can dress how they want,it's actually quite homey here so don't be afraid when you're dropped off for the first time.

Whether you be a normal human being who decided to work here at Daniel Grey as a therapist or security or an unstable patient you are welcome here, just remember. Lights out at 10 PM and DO NOT step out of your room past midnight.
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Time and Date
Monday

11:30 AM
Head Count
Therapists- 2
Mental Health Professionals- 1
Security- 1
Interns- 1
Rehabilitation Counselors- 1
Patients-11
Daniel Grey Staff

Dr. Evans
Dr. Carthur
James
Vekpo

Dr. Elizabeth

Killian

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Night of the Blood Moon


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Art Department

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Art Department

Post by Alexander Evans on Sun Sep 15, 2013 1:59 pm

Art Department
Like the music department the art department is mainly for patients who are effected most by expressive therapy. However, because it is an art room and there isn't that much of anything that can possibly badly injure a patient they do not need a pass to come to the art department, just so long everything stays orderly and no equipment is damaged every patient is allowed in the art department.

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Re: Art Department

Post by Oliver Hail on Sat Mar 08, 2014 6:21 pm




Oliver clutched the little slip in his hand tightly as he opened the door to the cluttered room. For the most part the art room was empty, which made Oliver slightly more relaxed. Everything was different now, and although it should comfort him knowing his past life was over, it didn't. If anything knowing he would be out in the real world with normal people scared him. He didn't know how in the world to act around people who dont want to hurt him anymore, it has been 5 long years. He found it most painful that he couldn't hardly remember what his mother looked like.

When he arrived at the institute a nice looking man tried to talk to him. He had been asked his name and by instinct Oliver had said in a monotone, tired voice "whatever you want it to be." When Oliver had noticed his mistake it had been to late and the man was already giving him a weird look. It hadn't taken long for a women to walk quickly over and whisper something to the man, which made the man looking tragically at Oliver. "There was an awkward silence as no one knew what to say until finally Oliver said quietly "Oliver Hail." The man said a few more words before him and the women were off. Before they'd left the women had given Oliver this slip and said he could go to whatever room he liked. So he found himself in the art room.

Really Oliver just wanted to go home, but everytime he thought of home he just confused himself. At this point, what was home? Was it at his master's home? Was it the auction? he couldn't even remember how to get to his old home in Missouri anymore. He'd been moved around and taken to so many different places, he ended up in California, and that where he is now. Even if he remembered how to get home, would they even want him? Would his family even remember him? They probably wouldn't recognize him.. He sighed and ran his hand across the smooth wood on one of the tables.

He'd always admired art, but had never been good at it himself. He probably made his way to an art room to see if there was any art to admire. Mostly there were unfinished paintings and sculptures and rough sketches with paint splashed everywhere in a delightful array of color that sort of brightened Oliver's mood. Seeing the bright paints and racks of blank, pure white canvas' made Oliver want to paint, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't touch anything unless he was told to. After all, you're not supposed to do something unless for the benefit or enjoyment of someone else, or more importantly, you're master.

'You don't have a master now' he kept reminding himself but he couldn't stop thinking that a new master would loom out from the shadows and punish him, slashing some sort of dreadful weapon at him, a belt like the one used to break the skin on his thighs so long ago and make him bleed. He tried not to think of it but he couldn't stop himself. Even after he began crying, began bleeding all over the pain kept coming. His master had only stopped whipping him with the black leather belt when Oliver had passed out due to having one of his very common panic attacks. This fear that someone would hurt him if he did something he was not told kept Dallon just standing still in the middle of the room admiring the art silently, not being able to sit.


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Re: Art Department

Post by Sage Hughes on Sat Mar 08, 2014 8:01 pm




Sage huffed loudly as she shuffled through the doors, rolling her eyes at the man falsely smiling at her, acting like he was enjoying his job and was happy to see every poor soul that came through the blank doors. Yeah fucking right. Sage narrowed her eyes slightly before slamming a piece of paper on his desk "Sage Hughes" the girl spoke quickly, pretending to examine her nails. This was on her first day at the hospital and nothing had really changed. Sage was still the same awkward, annoying little brat to most of the staff. Only the staff that pretended to like her, it was their fault. They didn't have to pretend. The young girl considered this for a moment. They actually did, it was their job. Sage sighed, admitting defeat in the small argument she had with herself. Was it defeat? If she had the argument with herself then surely she won as well... A frustrated groan left her lips, she was over thinking again. It was a regular thing now, over thinking. Sage did it quite often as she walked through the vast halls and wards.

A faint smile appeared on Sage's face as the door to the art room came in to sight. A bit of painting always put Sage in a good mood. Well, a better mood at least. The girl looked down at the door handle, clasping it tightly, throwing the door open. She gasped as the door almost hit a tall figure that was stood in the room, admiring the art. She flinched as the door missed by a few centimetres "I- er- Jesus- I'm really sorry," Sage looked away, hurrying over to a stack of paper and grabbing a few pencils and sitting down at a table. He finger moved to a switch and she pushed it, turning a lamp on that was fixed to the table. Sage huffed again, moving her paper closer to the light, sketching, her facial expression was tense, her brow furrowed in concentration. She sketched lightly a facial shape, before moving on to the body, ignoring the hair for now.

After realising the figure that she had almost knocked over, had not mover, she glance up "would you like to draw or-?"  The girl gestured around the room, before looking back at the tall boy. This was when she took in his height "dude, you tower" she grinned slightly, going back to her work. When she messed up, Sage let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at the shelves, trying to see where a rubber was. She groaned when she could only spot erasers on the top shelves. "do they not realise some people aren't giants?" the girl muttered, standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arms out as far above her head as  they'd go. Her fingers fumbled around the surface, and she grasped a small white block. The girl then hurried back to her work, correcting where she'd gone wrong.


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Tagged: Oliver
Word Count:493
Wearing: clicky. That with some jeans ; )
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Last edited by Sage Hughes on Sun Mar 09, 2014 4:42 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Re: Art Department

Post by Oliver Hail on Sat Mar 08, 2014 9:48 pm




As the door flung open Oliver flinched back and watched as a girl entered. She was shorter than him, but Oliver found it was common that people were shorter than him. Even his masters were typically shorter than him, which was weird cause they were dominate. Doors being opened in such a rough manner as so was usually associated with an angry master, so Oliver was surprised when the girl with minty green hair sputtered out an apology. "I- er- Jesus- I'm really sorry," that was all the girl said before she busied herself pulling out various art supplied and shuffling through papers.

Oliver watched her curiously. Was she going to do something to him? Would she become his new master? Oliver had never had a female master and he'd never even done anything with a girl. If this girl did take him as a "pet" Oliver would be horribly bad at it. He always said he was bisexual if anything, but he probably leaned far more towards guys. Like probably only 1% of him was a straight. He didn't tell this girl that though, if she really did plan on doing bad things to him telling her he was probably gay would make her mad.

"would you like to draw or-?" Oliver was taken aback by the question. No one had ever asked him what HE would like to do. If his master would want him to do something, Oliver would do it and pretend to enjoy it so he wouldn't get in trouble. He slowly began walking over to the table, about to nod yes but stopped himself and rooted to the floor again. This was probably a test to see is he obeys and acts like a good pet. "Would you like me to draw" he asked, not looking at the girl directly. After she was finished gesturing to everything in the room she looked him up and down and Oliver tried not to squirm under her gaze. "dude, you tower." She said, which made Oliver twist his head giving her a confused look. He guessed the term meant something along the lines that he was tall, but he wasn't sure how to reply to it, was it a compliment?


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Tagged: Sage
Word Count: 375
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Re: Art Department

Post by Sage Hughes on Sun Mar 09, 2014 3:20 pm




Sage glared at her piece of work. Drawing the hair always annoyed her. Drawing annoyed her. She's changed her mind about art putting her in a better mood, art is the worst. The girl scowled at the barely noticeable line that had gone out of place on her picture. She flinched when he seemed confused by her tower comment. Way to go Sage, creep out the new people. Sage's head snapped up when she realised his first response could have been sarcastic. "and what is that supposed to mean?!" why was he been sarcastic with her? She took a step back when she realised that the boy was closer than he was a few minuets ago. Then Sage looked at her work, grabbing it, covering it protectively. Was he going to laugh? The girl backed up against the art shelves, her face scrunched up in confusion. The male seemed  awkward and nervous yet he seemed laid back at the same time. His hair was all over the place, he kind of looked- innocent.His blue eyes held one hundreds of emotions at once. It confused Sage a lot, it made her feel up tight and cautious.Yet like most people in the hospital, he could of gone through a lot of crap. Each one of them had different stories, so Sage decided to relax a bit and stop being all tense.

"I'm sorry, I get really touchy" Sage sighed looking up, inching back towards the desk, laying her piece of paper with her drawing back on it. She grumbled at it, screwing up and tossing it in to the bin. The girl dragged her eyes back to the tall male, "I'm Sage, can i ask you your name?" 'or will you go all fucking sarcastic on me?' she smiled to herself, biting her lip slightly. "But really, would you like to draw? I'll show you where to get everything you need and stuff, as an apology for been all weird," she chuckled, swinging one leg over the other, leaning against the desk, gripping it tightly, digging her nails in to it anxiously.


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Re: Art Department

Post by Oliver Hail on Sun Mar 09, 2014 5:46 pm




Oliver watched the green haired girl with interest. As his blue eyes drifted across his paper he was careful, she may not want him to be looking at her art.... he wouldn't want to upset her but at the same time he couldn't help but to admire it. The thin pencil strokes, scattered across the paper in such a delicate and planned way that it actually created an image. The piece seemed half finished, and the artist seemed frustrated. He could tell from where he stood, his neck being stretched to see the picture better, that she might be starting the hair. He always enjoyed drawing hair, even if he's not a good artist. Hair is such a fluid thing, there is so many different things you could do with it.

He resisted letting out a sigh as he watched her. Oliver wished that he was given permission to draw more often. He remembered he'd often find some paper and pencils to draw with when his masters were gone. After he finished his drawing he would take the paper to the fire place and burn it before his master returned. After he burned the paper he would go about his normal day of cleaning the house until it sparkled, then going around at least 10 times to make sure it's perfect before relaxing. The other whores of the house would tell on him sometimes,only the real mean ones that fought with the other's constantly. He didn't understand the one's like that, they were territorial with the master and it made to sense to Oliver. Who would WANT to have someone as sick as their master's all to themselves to get beat and humiliated? In the sense that the master's favorite pet wasn't beat as much and he took better care of them it could make a little sense why some were mean to each other, but Oliver disliked most of them anyways.

It was bad enough being beaten by your master, who needed other pets hitting you and picking on you? Oliver remembered one of the slaves had convinced the favored to kill himself once, and it was horrible. Just thinking about how cruel they were to each other made Oliver cringe, and this is why he hated them. Oliver wasn't mean to his peers because of "competition" he was mean to them cause they were all assholes. Okay, well not all of them. There were actually a lot of slaves who were like Oliver, nice and innocent and hating every minuet of the hell they were in, but a lot of them stopped caring. Oliver assumed that so many years stuck in the same horrid cycle can change people, take away their hope of rescue so they just let ti happen to them. Of course, Oliver let it happen to him but at least he didn't indulgent in it. Oliver let it happen to him cause he was scared. Oliver is a coward, he let it happen to him not because he wanted to win the favor of their master but because he didn't want to get hurt again.

"and what is that supposed to mean?!" The girl shouted randomly and made Oliver flinched back, lowering his head and expecting for her to hit him. Usually when people yell at him, it soon results to beatings, then at the point when Oliver starts to cry he is yelled at to stop crying and then drug to the bedroom. They typically dont like it when Oliver crys during it but he can't help it, it makes him panic. "Sorry" he said quietly, keeping his head low and focused on his dress shoes. When he heard fast moving, paper shuffling he lifted his head and saw he against a shelf, clutching her work. A few painted canvased fell to the ground, clattering down around her.

Oliver could honestly say he was surprised by her actions. It was weird for someone to act almost.. skittish? No thats not the right word.. she was still mean like his masters had been.. he looked at her more closely while still trying to keep his head lower out of respect like he was taught. Then it hit him, this strange green haired girl was being insecure about her drawing. Oliver wanted to say it looked lovely but knew better than to talk out of turn. There was always a danger of punishment for talking out of turn in the presence of a superior. But was this girl a superior? Everything was weird now... Oliver couldn't even imagine acting like a normal person. All he knew now was to always act submissive, no matter what. Don't talk out of turn, do what you're told, don't question people, behave yourself and only do things to benefit the enjoyment of others. He couldn't help but to sigh and after he did it his hand instantly went to cover his mouth and he looked cautiously up at the girl as she spoke. He would have just gotten his mouth slapped if he were with one of his masters...

"I'm sorry, I get really touchy" Oliver sucked in a sharp breath and felt his stomach tighten. He knew it, he should have known he'd never be safe. This life would always be with him and theres nothing he could do about it. He felt sick now, his stomach flipping around and his breathing speeding up. He knew it would be best to sit down but his legs wouldn't work with him. They felt rooted to the ground, and he thought even if he tried to move his legs would just give out. "I'm Sage, can i ask you your name?" He heard her say it but he didn't fully acknowledge it. He was far to busy trying to control his breathing and not look like a freak but it wasn't working. Before he knew it he'd found himself sitting on his butt with his long lanky legs out in front of him, bent at the knees. With one hand he was propping himself up and with the other was cupped around his mouth, his eyes closed tightly and now he was full blown hyperventilating. He should be used to this by now, and he had been used to be used for 5 long years but after he was rescued... he thought things would be different. He wasn't prepared for this. Not in the least bit.


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Re: Art Department

Post by Sage Hughes on Tue Mar 11, 2014 5:41 pm




Sage was staring in to space after she'd asked a simple question. However after a few seconds of not getting a reply, she whipped round, gasping when she laid her eyes on the tall male who was now on the floor. Sage immediately panicked and everything around her slowed down, almost coming to a halt completely. She kept her gaze on the male, her eyes wide with shock, she dropped to her knees, biting down on her lip hard. "wh-what did I say?" she whispered, looking around the room, as if to find an answer just lying around, "I take it back! Whatever I said, I didn't want to hurt you, do you want me to call some one? Are you going to die? Please don't die, I don't know CPR and it'd be my fault, I think you- No, I have no idea!"  The worried girl rushed out, staring at his hand covering his eyes. Her chest felt tight, as if she was suffocating, her stomach clenching, squeezing itself, trying to be as small as possible. "I'm sorry I was a bit of a bitch, but it's me, it's how I go with things, I'm stupid, I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry, don't make me call the staff, they'll blame it all on me, they never want to listen anyway, they'll just keep asking the same question until you give them the right answer," The girls innocent eyes, looked away from the male, closing slightly as she unplugged one of her most unwanted memories, yet it was her most well known one.

It was another simple day in the simple life of the little Sage of only 6 years old. She'd just finished the washing up and now she could do whatever she wanted for the rest of her long day; she could read, paint, play games with her siblings or just sit and stare. Having freedom was all that Sage longed for now, small Sage took herself in to her bedroom and flopped on to her bed. Her siblings would call for her soon, only giving Sage ten minuets or so.The small girl stood up on her bed, placing her finger on her bedroom wall, dragging it around, as if she were drawing a picture. She hummed along, giggling every now and then. She carried on 'drawing' like this for around twenty minuets and found it strange no one had come to get her. Sage tiptoed down the stairs, as delicately as a fairy "mum?" She questioned, seeing he mother sat there motionless, not blinking. The child was curious and ran over to her mother, leaping on to her. That was when her simple life stopped, as her mother had simply tipped to a side to reveal a huge gash, a stab wound. As her memory ended, Sage winced, as though she had been stabbed herself.

The girl slowly got up, the pain in her chest getting greater as the male was still on the floor "I'll be the one needing CPR next" Sage grumbled,  She glanced around the room, keeping her eyes off the unnamed male.  'I'll wait five more minuets and if he still looks like he's dying I'll have to call for staff.' Sage reluctantly thought. She bit her lip, he might want to draw? The girl looked over at a stack of paper, biting her bottom lip harder, what was their to loose? She grabbed a few sheets of paper and then her hand hovered over a range if pencils. The girl just grabbed a few and set them out in front of the male "you can draw down there if you really want to, I prefer to draw on a desk though, it's up to you," Sage was trying to lighting it up a bit. She looked back and slowly stood up, picking the canvases she had recently knocked over up, setting them in their place.


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Wearing: clicky. That with some jeans ; )
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Re: Art Department

Post by Oliver Hail on Sun Mar 23, 2014 9:46 pm





tagged: Sage






I'm a little selfish with a lot to give; I'm a broken bone, I'm a losing bid. I know you want me in, in my place. I'm damaged bliss, I'm an unknown voice; make you feel less alone, but I'm not your toy. I know you want me out, out of your face

"I can act my part"



Oliver heard a small gasp from Sage. Nothing hurt though, no sharp sting as a hand came down on him or a painful kick that knocked the breath out of him. He was okay. "Wh-what did I say?" she asked, and at that moment Oliver felt slightly better. It was different. It just couldn't sink in that not everyone wanted to hurt him. And suddenly, Oliver felt bad. That poor girl.. he'd probably really freaked her out.

"I take it back! Whatever I said, I didn't want to hurt you, do you want me to call some one? Are you going to die? Please don't die, I don't know CPR and it'd be my fault, I think you- No, I have no idea!" She said, rambling on and on and Oliver just took a deep breath. He looked up at her through tired blue eyes and gave a slight smile. "It's.." he started to talk but the panicked girl just kept talking. "I'm sorry I was a bit of a bitch, but it's me, it's how I go with things, I'm stupid, I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry, don't make me call the staff, they'll blame it all on me, they never want to listen anyway, they'll just keep asking the same question until you give them the right answer." Oliver sighed and slowly sat up so he was sitting criss cross on the floor fiddling with his bowtie. "It's fine" he said softly. The patient thought about standing, but didn't wanna embarrass himself and fall again. "I'm sorry.. I misunderstood something you said.. you scared me." He watched her put paper and a pencil in front of him and he nodded in thanks. He stared at the paper, then glances back at her, then at the paper again, then at her.

He was finding it hard to believe she wasn't angry at him. It was different, and it kinda scared him. He didn't know how to act around normal people. "you can draw down there if you really want to, I prefer to draw on a desk though, it's up to you," she said, which made Oliver laugh. He resisted quickly covering his mouth afterwards. He didn't need to be afraid to laugh at someone anymore. "I'm Oliver" he said suddenly, looking up at her and managing another smile. "Sorry to worry you" he picked up his pencil and began drawing. First, he drew the outline. It was a girl wearing a dress that went to her knees. Her wrist were in front of her, palms up. He smudge and sketched until her arms looked bruised and harmed until he decided he was done. It was simple, but Oliver kinda liked it.







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Re: Art Department

Post by Sage Hughes on Mon Apr 21, 2014 8:12 pm




Sage exhaled the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding when the boy sat up and fiddled with his bow tie. "thank god" the girl murmured to herself as she scanned him up and down to make sure he was fully awake.This is when she took in what he was wearing, smiling coyly at his bowtie. Bowties are cool. Also, her family always used to wear these big goofy bowties on occasions such as birthdays, it gave Sage a sense of joy. The stranger spoke quietly and the young girl made it out to be "It's fine". Sage looked at him and gave him a soft and apologetic smile as he went on to explain why he freaked. "Yeah well, I'm still sorry, I mean, I usually don't talk a lot but when I do, it's not really pleasant and erm- I sometimes don't really think before I say things so this place-" Sage looked around the room and at the door, "-isn't really the most ideal place for me to be speaking, me being borderline narcissistic and all," She sighed again, biting her lip.

Sage saw the man hesitate at the piece of paper and she furrowed her brow slightly, before stating the obvious about the whole desk thing. The girl looked confused when he stopped himself from laughing "it was a joke, you can laugh if you want?" she said with caution, not wanting to make him collapse again as he had now stood up. The boy went on to introduce himself as Oliver. "Pleasure meeting you Oliver," She grinned before grabbing a new piece of paper for herself and a charcoal pencil and beginning to practise doing details with it. She started off with eye brows then went on to lips but when she began eyes is when it went horribly wrong. The girl huffed at the different shaped eyes and cursed at them as if it was their fault.  

When Oliver apologised for worrying her, Sage giggled "it's okay, I worry myself more than any one else," she smiled at him, until he began drawing. She watched closely, studying his technique for a few seconds. It was rather different to hers. Sage was a very sketchy kind of person yet he had a very simplistic way of drawing. The girl decided she'd give it a go and took an ordinary pencil out of the pot and attempted drawing eyes in his style. She put her  pencil down and ran a hand through her hair. Over all it had worked, but she still wasn't satisfied.  Her eyes were glued to her paper, and she was grinding her teeth slightly, looking at her drawings intensely, nit-picking all the mistakes. When she looked over at Oliver's, she let out a slight sigh "I don't know why I even bother with art, yours is so good!" She smiled slightly at him, before screwing hers up, aiming, and tossing it in to the bin that was at the other side of the room.
.


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Re: Art Department

Post by Oliver Hail on Tue May 20, 2014 11:17 pm





tagged: Sage






I'm a little selfish with a lot to give; I'm a broken bone, I'm a losing bid. I know you want me in, in my place. I'm damaged bliss, I'm an unknown voice; make you feel less alone, but I'm not your toy. I know you want me out, out of your face

"I can act my part"



"Yeah well, I'm still sorry, I mean, I usually don't talk a lot but when I do, it's not really pleasant and erm- I sometimes don't really think before I say things so this place-" Oliver smiled and for some reason he had a sudden sense of being comfortable. Its been a while since Oliver had actually felt save but this green haired weirdo was nice in her own way. Oliver decided he liked her for some reason. Not like... like liked or anything he didn't think he would like anyone like that for a while.

"Isn't really the most ideal place for me to be speaking, me being borderline narcissistic and all," Oliver shrugged. "I don't think your narcissistic" he said simply. "I mean I am no therapist and I uh- I didn't get out much at all for the last couple of years but aren't narcissistic people like full of themselves and unable to accept their flaws?" It was still strange to Oliver talking out like this but he hadn't been punished yet and he kinda liked the freedom. "I mean saying that you're borderline narcissistic seems like admitting a flaw to me and besides, you don't seem full of yourself cause you freaked out when i freaked out. You have empathy which narcissism makes empathy come difficultly." Oliver was a fairly smart boy. Sometimes when his master was gone he would sneak reading books even if he had the literacy level of a 16 year old and didn't understand some words. He was still fairly intelligent.

"it was a joke, you can laugh if you want?" She said in reply to him holding back from laughing. "People didn't joke with me... I didn't want to offend you and get yelled at." He looked down at his paper with a kinda sad worn out smile. Even if it was a hollow smile, it felt nice. A fake smile was still a smile to him and he liked to pretend to be happy. Which in a sense he's happier here then out in the real world. It's safe and protective here. At least so far it has been. People aren't very truth worthy from his experience though. "Pleasure meeting you Oliver," he looked up with an almost surprised look but then couldn't help but to smile and laugh a little bit. Maybe because he knew he could or maybe he just was in that good mood.

There was a silence over the room for a bit save for the scratched of pencil against paper as she drew and Oliver leaned to look at her paper. "I don't know why I even bother with art, yours is so good!" Oliver jumped a little bit, his eyes wide for a second before he relaxed his nerves again. "I'm uh.. I'm not that good" he said softly. "But I find it's easier to draw when you're not trying? I don't know if that makes any sense to you but after I-" he broke off and paused for a long while trying to think of what to say without letting her know. After a bit he swallowed. "I was in therapy for like a week before they determined I was a lost cause that would never be able to live on my own in the real world. They tried a lot of art therapy stuff. Like I wasn't allowed to say anything about my art good or bad and I wasn't allowed to erase or change it anything. I had to keep it raw and it was kinda fun after a while and seeing the raw products wasn't that bad. I just kinda accepted the imperfections cause I knew if I tried to change it it would only make me angry." He shrugged again, "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you by talking to much. I'll shut up if you ask me too... I could also leave if you want?" He slowly stood up and picked up his drawing folding it neatly so it could fit in his back pocket.







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