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Post by dylan on Jan 5, 2013 10:16:35 GMT -5
 he hated to waste food -that was blasphemy in the gospel of dylan- but this wasn't food, it was cardboard. he wouldn't have been surprised if every edible thing on his tray today was sugar free, gluten free, and as an inevitable result, pleasure free too. like a dissatisfied child at the dinner table he pushed the tasteless vegies around with his plastic spork before deciding to flick them at the catatonic guy seated across from him, hitting him square in the forehead with a pea. predictably enough, the man didn't so much as blink but dylan however raised a thick eyebrow. was this man insane or given some kind of frankenstein lobotomy that turned him into an immobile zombie? out of sheer boredom and mild fascination, he proceeded to toss one vegetable after another at the motionless patient's face until he was interrupted by a firm hand on his shoulder, making him jolt and scatter what remained of his meal on the table. he turned his head to see the uniform of an orderly, an attire that had become more familiar to him than he would have liked these days.
"done with your lunch, detwiler? well then how about a nice stroll around the courtyard. it's a beautiful day and you could do with some fresh air, wouldn't you agree?"
the question came out sounding more intimidating than anything else. he wasn't even given a chance to reply before another man from the staff team walked over and ushered him out of his seat. the low-risk patient gave both of them what the fuck looks as they led him out of the dining hall and toward the exit, escourting him outside the building. with folded arms and stern looks they left him to his own devices in the least of places he wanted to be short of the confinement chambers. he was sick of this place. sick of the crappy food, sick of the stupid security guards with God complexes, and most importantly, sick of having no freedom or rights as a human being whatsoever. this wasn't a hospital, it was a prison and it didn't take a genius or a psychiatrist to figure out that he didn't belong. there was nothing wrong with him, at least, nothing significant enough to constitute being involuntarily thrown in a loony bin for the past few months. he didn't hear voices or have bipolar disorder or jekyl and hyde syndrome. he made a mistake, a stupid mistake, that was all it was and all it would ever be.
the brutes with their over-inflated egos lied. it was not a beautiful day. the clouds hung low in a dismal grey sky and the overcast only served to make the place look more ominous and depressing. dylan had half a mind to believe they were trying to spite him and it wasn't like that was a conspiracy theory. the staff had every reason to detest him almost as much as they loathed the unpredictably violent high-risk patients. he rarely played the role of the "good patient" and if he did, there was always an ulterior motive behind his uncharacteristically pleasant behaviour. he didn't think they should have held that against him though, after all, with the lack of entertainment around these parts he had to keep himself amused somehow. if that mean't fueling the delusions of paranoid schizophrenics or deliberately provoking the unstable then so be it.
the last thing he wanted right now was get drenched by a surprise downpour so instead of hanging around where he'd be an open target, he wandered into the greenhouse. had he known ahead of time what was waiting for him beyond those doors, he might have just resigned to letting himself get soaked. he now found himself standing face to face with his annoying roommate. as if he couldn't get enough of the guy when they weren't roaming the massive premises with little chance of actually bumping into one another. "hi bernard," dylan greeted, seemingly friendly before turning on his heel to walk back out the way he came. with a sarcastic smile and a wave, "bye bernard!"
words; 691
tags; haunt/bernard
notes; playing with templates
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Post by bernard kingsley on Jan 7, 2013 0:23:35 GMT -5
Being a low-risk patient had its perks. While everyone else got to spend the majority of their day locked up like dogs in a pound, Bernard could wander around the grounds as he pleased – and that's just what he did. Being confined was dreadful, and sitting in one place for too long made him a little stir-crazy. If he ever had to spend more than a few hours in that tiny room of his, he was certain he would lose his mind.
Oh, wait. He'd already lost that, hadn't he?
The time was midday, around lunchtime, and the blond was strolling through the greenhouse. Maybe a grown man shouldn't have admitted how addicted he was to the scent of roses and daffodils, but it was nice, especially in comparison to the overly sterile smell of the asylum corridors. Plus, unlike the rest of the white-washed facility, the greenhouse was full of color. It was like walking into a different world.
Bernard had been admiring a patch of multi-colored pansies when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts. Sea-grey eyes brightened with recognition as he glimpsed his roommate walking up the dirt pathway, and naturally, one corner of the blond's mouth bent into the beginning of a smile. "Hey, Dy—" Or not. Before he could even finish his sentence, his roommate had already started walking off in the opposite direction. Bernard pursed his lips, unable to stop his eyes from rolling up toward the glass roof of the greenhouse. "Nice to see you, too," he mumbled to himself, words laced with not-so-subtle sarcasm.
Despite his better judgment, Bernard plucked a flower from the bush – it was yellow – and followed after the other male. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he teased from somewhere behind Dylan. "You couldn't be trying to–" He lengthened his strides, managing to catch up just before his roommate escaped, and then hopped out in front of him. "–run away from me, could you?" As Bernard spoke, his lips curled into a sly smile, and he waved the yellow pansy around in Dylan's face, dusting pollen over the less enthusiastic male's nose.
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Post by dylan on Jan 9, 2013 10:10:05 GMT -5
ah, bernard. derpy, overly-optimistic, boring bernard. he wasn't like the other patients. he was predictable and as far as dylan could tell, too normal for a place like this. he didn't have violent outbursts or curl up in a corner when the time-travelling space monsters came for him. nope, he was always so casual. insufferably upbeat. there was nothing dylan could do to trigger any sort of entertaining reaction and that's probably what aggravated the twenty-seven-year old the most. that and, well.. the guy wouldn't let him fucking fap! not in peace, anyway, and he couldn't count how many times the persistent fucker woke him up from a dead sleep. as far as dylan was concerned, he saw enough of this guy during bedroom time and group therapy so he had every right to avoid him now. the only question was, would the bastard allow him to avoid him? actually, scratch that. it shouldn't have even been a question because he already knew the answer and when bernard popped up in front of him with that cheeky look on his face, it only served to justify that he wasn't going to.
his nostrils sucked in a puff of pollen and his nose scrunched up, eyes watering as a sneeze blew out from his nasal cavities. he scowled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his black jumper, spitefully hoping little bits of snot and saliva managed to splash the pest of a guy in his face. he snatched the flower and crumbled it up in his palm, tossing it over his shoulder with narrow eyes. "gee wilikers! what coulda given you an idea like that?" the older man snorted, thumbing his irritated nose. "what, can't get enough 'a me when it's lights out and we're forced to stay in the same room together? if i didn't know any better i'd be thinkin you had some kinda mancrush."
the depressive manchild presented mr happy-go-lucky with his back, turning his countenance to the plethora of plants that surrounded them in the greenhouse. he wandered down the pathway, surface of his hand gliding over the various petals and leaves while he moved. "what're ya doin in here anyway? pickin flowers to leave on my bed side table with a little love note attached?" he stopped in the center of the room, reaching down in the soil to pull out a fist full of daisies and dirt. he eyed it with a blank expression. "sorry babycakes, it'll take more than buttercups to woo me. i never saw the appeal in these things unless i used 'em to get in a bitch's panties." his attention returned to the fellow patient and he paused before randomly hurling the helpless plant ball he ripped out at him. the corners of his mouth stretched into a devious grin. "go long!"
words; 473
tags; haunt/bernard
notes; playing with templates
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Post by bernard kingsley on Jan 13, 2013 18:02:01 GMT -5
Laughing, Bernard lifted a hand to shield his face as Dylan sneezed. He would have kept sniggering, but suddenly the flower was ripped from his fingers. "—Hey!" he yelped, laughter cut short as he watched Dylan crumple the little plant and toss it carelessly over his shoulder. Somewhat irritably, Bernard blew out a puff of air through his nose. "Grump," he muttered under his breath. Not that it was anything new.
The younger of the two was abruptly distracted from the flower crisis when Dylan threw in a gay joke. It earned a vaguely flustered stare from Bernard, but then he seemed to realise it hadn't been meant seriously, and he rolled his eyes toward the glass roof once more. "Sure," he drawled sarcastically. "Because what guy could resist a hunk like you?" Gay jokes always made him a bit uncomfortable, but he figured the best way to rebuff them was to play along. Whenever he tried to defend himself, it only backfired and made it obvious that he was, indeed, very gay. Dylan wasn't exactly the 'hunk' that Bernard had described, but he wasn't totally bad looking either. I mean, saying that the blond hadn't checked out his roommate once or twice would be a lie.
Bernard might have said more, but at that moment, Dylan uprooted a patch of daisies for no apparent reason, and then decided it would be a good idea to throw them at his roommate's face. Before the blond had time to react, the plant-ball was colliding with him straight on. He felt dirt scatter into his eyes, and he swiftly lifted his hands to catch the uprooted daises. "What was that for?!" he spluttered as he spit out bits of dirt. With a huff, Bernard marched up beside Dylan and knelt there, attempting to re-plant the flowers in the upturned dirt.
"Oh, and for your info," he added rather haughtily, "If I was trying to 'woo' you, I'd be holding a rose. Not a pansy." Or, as Dylan had called them, 'buttercups.' "Better yet, I'd pluck the petals one by one and sprinkle them all over your bed sheets like a love faerie. Maybe I'd even lie amongst them naked if that's what you fancy!" The words were spoken with sass as Bernard patted down dirt around the roots of the daisies, fingers working carefully.
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Post by dylan on Jan 18, 2013 1:42:31 GMT -5
"i know, right? i should be an abercrombie model, just can't fight 'em off." with a feigned smugness he straightened his posture, dusting off his shoulder. now that he thought about it, he was sure he still had some of their merchandise burried in the back of his closet at home from younger, preppier days. whether or not any of it would fit now, however, was a mystery he didn't care to solve. the "pre-ripped jeans and exaggerated price tags" chapter of his life ended with high school, flipping the pages to open up a new one of inexpensive walmart clothes. in all seriousness, no, he was not attracting guys to the point of needing a fag repellent and for that he was thankful.
dylan couldn't help but crack up at bernard's reaction. he saw the plant ball flying toward his face so the least he could have done was stumbled out of the way. not the brightest crayon in the box, obviously. "i.. wanted to start a plant fight?" he shrugged. did he even need a reason? it was boring as hell here and surely, the other patient had to have been painfully aware of that too. he couldn't have been the only one wandering around aimlessly with a lost look on his face. it was almost funny in a way, when he was sitting at home twiddling his thumbs he thought things were as dull as dull could get. it wasn't until he'd been torn from that environment that he actually realised just how good he really had it. he could at least pop a game in the xbox when he had nothing better to do, or surf the internet, or raid a fridge filled with decent food. the only restrictions he had at home were the ones he'd subconsciously placed on himself.
"unf, yeah. cuz there's nothin i'd fancy more than some naked nutcase on my bed. keep talkin like that and you'll gimme a stiffy, opp---too late." he glanced down at his lower half, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his sweats for added effect. why couldn't he have been having this banter with a sexy female nurse instead of the moron crouching beside him? and speaking of which, what was he even doing? dylan's gaze returned to his roommate, eyeing him strangely while he played in the dirt. "are you.. actually replanting those?" he tore out a patch of flowers, it wasn't like he ripped the whole place apart. they weren't going to get in trouble from the hospital staff because who would even notice that? oh well, whatever. maybe tending the garden would distract bernard long enough for him to make a successful escape from the guy, he could hope anyway. "tree hugger." he rolled his eyes and brushed past him, briskly making his way toward the door again.
words; 476
tags; haunt/bernard
notes; playing with templates
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Post by bernard kingsley on Jan 20, 2013 5:53:50 GMT -5
Bernard made a sound that was something between a snort and a laugh as his roommate tugged at the crotch of his pants. It didn't matter if Dylan was trying to be funny or not, Bernard found it hilarious. In fact, he rather enjoyed the other male's sense of humor, even if he wasn't meant to. While Dylan was anything but kind to him, at least he responded. That was one step up from most of the glum-faced drones here. "You know," Bernard mused, pushing himself back to his feet and dusting off the knees of his jeans. "A naked nutcase is the best you're gonna get in this shit hole. You scoff now, but just wait. One day you'll wonder why you didn't take that fit bastard up on his offer."
Yeah, so maybe he was getting a little cocky, and although spoken with obvious sarcasm, there was something almost flirtatious in his words. The blond's cockiness was short-lived, however, as Dylan attempted to insult him. "Trees are cool," Bernard answered with a shrug, and then began to follow after his roommate casually. He knew Dylan was trying to get away from him, but he wasn't going to be dismissed so easily.
"Am I really so bad, D? I think I'm better company than most of the losers here. I mean, they don't even—" As they neared the exit, Bernard suddenly stopped in his tracks. "You forgot to prop it open?" the blond blurted out, a look of both amusement and disbelief shooting across his face. "You have to prop it open, y'know. With that rock." He pointed to a random pebble that was resting a few inches away from the door. "I mean, if you don't do that, it locks." Despite himself, the blond started to snicker. Mostly because his roommate had unknowingly eliminated his only method of escape. Dylan had sealed his own fate. Literally. "Nice going, man. Now we're gonna have to eat leaves for supper and piss in the daisies."
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Post by dylan on Jan 24, 2013 4:19:44 GMT -5
dylan's eyes scanned bernard's body from head to toe and he gave him a look that said really? he was desperate, that much he was aware of, but not that desperate. he would sooner settle for hanky panky with one of the psycho bitches, at least they had tits beneath their straitjackets and who knew, maybe some of them were even kinky. if there was any woman out there who'd be willing to help him reanact what he saw in his bizarre fetish porn, this was probably the place to find her. if there ever came a day when he considered sex with bernard, it would be the day his last remaining spec of dignity evaporated and he'd more than likely try to off himself again. he hoped for the sake of his pride -depleted as it was- that he'd actually follow through and be successful that time around. he nearly shuddered upon imagining it; dylan detwiler, the jailhouse gay.. just when he thought it wasn't possible to fall any further than he already had. "kill me if that ever happens. please. just put me out of my misery like an old dog on it's last legs cuz you'd be doin me a favour."
trees were cool? what was this guy, some kind of hippie? he wouldn't have doubted it with the way he was nursing those uprooted flowers. dork. dylan could appreciate the flowers and trees, the nature, but only if there was a window between him and it. the outdoors started losing their appeal when he lost his reason to go out and they hadn't called to him since, but that was okay. the fuck did he need sunlight and fresh air for when he was just as content with flourescent light and stale air? even the stench of his basement that detered family from venturing down to visit wouldn't rid him of his shut-in ways.
he was going to turn around and ask bernard if he really called him "d" just then but lost the desire when the nuisance mentioned something about propping the door. his eyebrow arched high as he turned his head to look back at the other patient, hoping to God for his sanity that bernard was just yanking his chain. he stared at him unblinkingly, as if awaiting a "gotcha" that would cause him to let out a long inward sigh of relief. when it never came he made an attempt to push open the door, face flashing with a mixture of horror and disbelief because it didn't budge. his eyes narrowed and he gave it a kick but much to his frustration it still refused to grant him passage, that's when he whipped around to face the snickering dolt behind him, jerking him forward by the collar of his shirt. "why didn't you fucking tell me when you saw me come in through the g*ddamn door? how the hell was i supposed to know?"
words; 493
tags; haunt/bernard
notes; dun dun dunnn
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Post by bernard kingsley on Jan 30, 2013 5:39:23 GMT -5
As his roommate slumped into a pit of deep despair, Bernard broke down in a fit of obnoxious laughter. How couldn't he? Dylan's face was absolutely priceless. Anyone would be laughing. "Hey now! Don't try to pin this on me," he sniggered, holding his hands up in the air innocently as he watched the other male fumble with the door. "That's not gonna open, you kn—" His laughs faltered when Dylan grabbed him by the shirt, but only for a moment. "Woah there, buddy. It's your own bloody fault," Bernard scoffed. "No need to take it out on innocent bystanders!" His lips twitched in amusement as he returned his roommate's glare with playful eyes. Give him a few hours in the humidity and he might not be laughing his ass off -- but, right now, you had to admit, it was pretty damn funny. Dylan, who wanted nothing more than to escape, had done the opposite and entrapped himself. Not that Bernard minded. This made it easier for him to carry out his harassment.
"We're gonna be stuck in here forever," he went on dramatically, a wide, sloppy grin plastered to his face. "They'll find our bones in the flowerbeds twenty years from now." Obviously, this was all one huge joke to him, and he was probably asking to get decked in the face. He'd been punched before -- on multiple occasions. It wouldn't be surprising if it happened again. The people here were emotionally unstable, and Bernard's provocation and teasing didn't help anything. "Uh, wanna let me go now?" he added, lifting a hand to grip Dylan's wrist as he tried to wriggle free. "Or are you gonna take me up on that offer after all? You know, since we'll be spending eternity together." Yep. He was really and truly asking for it this time.
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Post by dylan on Feb 2, 2013 10:04:22 GMT -5
i'll show you bloody, he was tempted to say before slugging that smile off bernard's stupid face. fortunately for his roommate, dylan wasn't among the many patients prone to violent outbursts. if he had been he would have wiped the floor with the guy a long time ago, squeezed the breath out of his lungs if only to not have to listen to that pommy accent anymore. he clenched his jaw and for a moment his eyes smoldered hot enough to burn holes in the the other's scull. "your bones, maybe." bernard's next smart ass comment was met with a pinched expression but when he glanced down at his clenching hands, the muscles in his face slowly relaxed. with a loud, exaggerated sigh he let go of the fabric, turning away from bernard in a huff. well this was just fan-fucking-tastic, wasn't it?
narrow eyes scanned the greenhouse from top to bottom, searching for a way out, a window he could fit through perhaps or maybe even a hidden door if God didn't hate him today. there had to be something --- anything. no one would design a place so ridiculously flawed. he supposed if he got desperate enough he could dig his way out but then again, that would have required more effort than he'd be willing to put forth, even in a situation as frustrating as this one. he made his way over to the wall and started to pound on it, shouting atop his lungs in hopes that maybe one of those watch dog orderlies was lurking nearby. "hey, anybody out there?" he paused, waiting for a response. only silence followed. "i'm cutting my wrist! might wanna come in and stop me before i'm a bloody mess and my mom files a lawsuit!" again, silence. his voice went either unheard or unacknowledged by anyone who happened to be in earshot. after a minute or two of pacing the low-risk patient stopped, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. eventually he sank to the earth in resignation, ass planted in the dirt.
he wouldn't be stuck there forever. he wasn't gullible enough to believe that. someone would come looking for him sooner or later, it was only a matter of time. after all, patients unaccounted for was something the staff took seriously in a place where supervision was everything. he just had to wait and that was the sucky part. he viewed bernard, looking most displeased. he might have been the one to let the door fall shut but this was his fault. don't ask him how, it just was. "you planned this, didn't you?" his tone was surprisingly flat as if the shouting had exhausted his vocals, maybe it had. that little burst of spontaneous action was the most he'd moved in months. with a shake of his head he chuckled ironically, running a hand through his unwashed hair. fan-fucking-tastic, indeed.
words; 484
tags; haunt/bernard
notes;
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Post by bernard kingsley on Feb 5, 2013 0:30:09 GMT -5
"Only mine?" Bernard asked with a laugh, looking at his roommate expectantly. "Why's that?" If he couldn't escape, neither could Dylan. They'd both be stranded in here until a) someone opened the door for them or b) his roommate busted through one of the glass walls. "Are you going to teleport yourself out like the guy from Startrek? Maybe wring my neck and bury my corpse in the tulips?" Bernard watched, outlandishly amused as Dylan shouted at the glass, and for a few moments he was quiet, snickering to himself. "Wake up and smell the roses," the blond chirped, purposely using the ironic idiom, "No one can hear you. They're not coming." At least not for another hour. Both males were low-risk patients, which made them second priority. The guards were too busy chasing the real psychos down the corridors to realise two nobodies were missing.
"I most definitely planned this," Bernard agreed with a wide, amused grin. "I knew my irresistible presence would draw you here, and then, using telekinesis, I moved the rock that you so carelessly forgot to position." The blond finished with a smug smile, drenching his last words with sarcasm. While pranking his roommate wasn't out of character for Bernard, today he'd had no such plan. It was merely the beauty of coincidence. "Look, I don't want to be stuck in here any more than you do. It's hot as hell, and now there's not even a draft since someone shut the door." He raised an eyebrow at Dylan, and then, seeming to suddenly realise just how stuffy the room was, he lifted a hand to dramatically fan his face. "I hope the flower spiders get you," he added in playful spite, nodding toward the patch of pink daffodils that his roommate was nestled by.
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Post by dylan on Feb 21, 2013 4:01:04 GMT -5
well if that wasn't the stupidest question anyone had ever asked him, he didn't know what was. his lips parted to reply but then he decided against it, allowing the statement to go right over the oblivious fellow's head. the question was followed by two more sarcastic ones and even if he wasn't actually planning to murder bernard, wringing his neck sounded a little too tempting. "don't be givin me ideas," was all he could say through a shaky, irate chuckle.
smashing the glass was an option he considered, desperate as it may have been. the amount of hours it would earn him in solitary was something he didn't want to find out though. his stay at this hospital was boring enough without having to spend it in a pitch-black cell. in the distance he spied what appeared to be a random patient prancing around with a butterfly net, presumably too far gone in his own world to take any notice of the man behind the glass trying to get his attention. dylan watched the man with an incredulous stare until bernard pointed out the obvious. he was stuck here and for what length of time, he had no fucking idea.
the other male's cocky retort made him realise just how dumb his accusation sounded, but somehow despite that, he still wanted to point the finger at somebody other than himself. for once he didn't have anything witty to come back with and instead sat there pouting in silence, the humidity becoming more and more apparent as wasted seconds ticked by. the mention of eight-legged creepy crawlies, however, got a subtle reaction out of him and he eyed the daffodils warily, reminded of yet another reason why he loathed the outdoors. he didn't see any spiders out in the open -or at least, not yet- so he figured his roommate was just trying to get another rise out of him. "if we're gonna be stuck here for fuck knows how long the least you can do is shut up. ya wanna know why i avoid you like the fat chick at a party? because i. don't. like. you. we're not friends, okay? we're never gonna be friends. thought we established that when i told ya to leave me alone the first time but for whatever reason you ju--" he paled in mid-sentence, breath stolen by a tiny arachnid dangling from the ceiling in front of his face. he froze for a second before swallowing hard, swatting at the line of web in an attempt to get rid of it and hide his discomfort. instead of being flung aside it clung to his sleeve, pulling the spider along with it who began to crawl up his stiffened forearm. it was only a harmless garden spider but it might as well have been a safari tarantula because he tore off his hoodie in a frantic attempt to escape it, spare tire and hairy chest exposed. he stood up and crossed his arms, suddenly very aware of his surroundings.
words; 500
tags; haunt/bernard
notes;
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