SHINE BRIGHTER */

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
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the infirmary was somewhere that shayna preferred not to be. ever. when she walked through the halls, she simply hated walking by it. she didn't like hearing the coughing, or the protests against needles. she didn't know what went on inside, but she never wanted to find out. rumors went around about how careless and mean the nurses were. supposedly, illegal testing went on with certain patients in the back. shayna wasn't much of a fighter, she wasn't strong. she couldn't defend herself and she couldn't fend off any large guard who wanted to poke her with random needles. the infirmary started out as a small lobby, with a nice little window and a few chairs to wait. however, there was a door beyond that which led into where you would be treated. the room was lined with white beds, like you would see in a hospital. some of them were wrapped with curtains for more privacy, some had iv's attached. the truly sick patients - which weren't that many - were put in the beds furthest away from the lobby door, almost like a quarentine area. patients who simply needed a bandaid or a disinfection of a cut never had to go in the back. one of the nurses would simply bring them what they needed. but anyway, to shayna, the infirmary wasn't a nice place. she bought into the rumors. she didn't believe that the nurses were always looking out for the best interest of the patients. honestly, she was terrified that they were going to drag her to the basements and run tests on her, no matter how illegal it was to do so. and this was why she was so freaked out that she was headed that way now. as she headed down the bland hallways of the asylum, it scared her how quickly she was getting nervous. the anxiety building within her wasn't healthy, and it was a bit of an over reaction for a small trip to the infirmary.

she had never been in the infirmary for the few months she had already spent at the asylum. she knew the day would come, though. how long could you stay in a filthy place like alkaline and expect to remain healthy? it wasn't like she could treat herself. but today, she wasn't sick. she just needed a bandaid. maybe even stitches. she would protest the stitches, though. she simply wanted to disinfect a cut that she had obtained by accidentally slicing open her thumb with scissors while she had been trying to cut her own hair. it wasn't exactly like they offered haircuts in the asylum. while she wasn't the kind of girl who obsessed over her hair, she didn't want it to get unruly. she wasn't even sure how she had gotten her hands on the scissors. a careless therapist had left them out on their desk, and shayna figured she might as well seize the opportunity. in the asylum, everyone was very careful about what they left out around the patients. had it been another patient, he or she could have been using the scissors to slice open fellow patients. shayna, however, would never do something like that. she couldn't harm another human being even if she wanted to. it wasn't possible for her. she often found herself wondering whether or not she would be able to fight back if someone ever attacked her. in the asylum, she was jumpy and nervous around other people. kind of. certain patients spooked her more than others. she didn't know who would lash out if they got in her way or who wouldn't. but she honestly didn't think she would be able to bring herself to fight back, just incase she harmed someone.

slowly and cautiously, she pulled open the thick metal door for the infirmary, entering as quietly as possible. she wouldn't have come if her thumb hadn't been bleeding so badly. currently, she was pressing it into one of her old t-shirts in order to keep the blood compressed. it wasn't like blood was pouring out, but it wasn't exactly stopping, and that scared her. she didn't need any gross infections. the door shut behind her quickly from the springs that operated it, letting a loud echo ring throughout the small lobby. the sound made her jump and freeze in her tracks, but almost instantly she steadied herself and made her way to sit in one of the chairs to wait patiently for a nurse to call her in. it wasn't like she needed to check in with anyone. the door was loud enough to alert anyone and everyone that someone new had entered the infirmary. after waiting for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few minutes, a petite little nurse stepped through the doorway that led into the back. "alright blondie, what's wrong?"

[/color] shayna couldn't help but raises her eyebrows in disbelief as the words rang from the nurse's lips, with such malice. just from the tone of voice, she could tell that the nurse had absolutely no sympathy for anyone. good, that was just what she needed. a spiteful nurse with a needle. "uhm, i sliced open my thumb."[/color] the nurse rolled her eyes, like she saw something like this everyday. shayna didn't doubt that she did. shayna watched as the nurse scribbled something down on the clipboard she held, before waving for her to follow her to the back room. instantly, the nerves that were thriving within shayna grew stronger. she'd never been back here before, and that terrified her. she didn't know who or what was waiting for her.

she was a little shocked to find out that the infirmary wasn't as terrifying as she was led to believe. curtains surrounded the occupied beds, or at least most of them. there weren't even that many people in there. "it's a good thing you're cooperating. most patients freak out and we have to sedate them."[/color] the nurse spoke, leading shayna to the fourth bed in the aisle. she was ordered to show the nurse her thumb, and she complied to the demand. the nurse explained that it wasn't that bad and she wouldn't need stitches. she would just have to come back tomorrow and the day after to make sure it was healing properly and safely. stating that she would return in a moment with disinfecting solution, the nurse disappeared through another door, closing it behind her. again, shayna was left to wait. and she did. patiently. but when the nurse walked back through the door, she vanished behind a curtain to talk to another patient, and continued to do so with all of the occupied beds. she didn't think that her thumb was exactly at high risk, but she didn't want to wait all day. where were the other nurses? she leaned back against the barred headboard of the bed and closed her eyes; not with the intention of napping, she just more or less wanted to pretend like she wasn't sitting in the infirmary. the bleach fumes were starting to bother her, and it wasn't exactly fun.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are 1189 words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? YAYY FINISHED[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL GETTING AWAY,and it comes to me as no surprise

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-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO ME,[/size] and it's never going to arrive

It wasn't unsual for Conor to end up here. The infirmary, that place where most people dared eachother to go. This was in any situation, though. In school, in...well. In school at least. He had only been here for...a little over a week, was it? And look at how it was going. Just lovely, he was already making enemies. And this was the precise reason he was here; he somehow damaged his knuckles. Again. Well, that was up for debate, he had no idea if they were broken or any of that shit, they just hurt and were possibly a little on the red side of things. Not the average, soft red, but a 'holy shit look at what you did' red. They always say, keep your thumb inside your hand when throwing punches. Or did they?
No wonder he kept hurting himself. He had no idea how to avoid it. If they had google here he would gladly look up the correct way to avoid this current situation, but he highly doubted that they had internet. One way he knew, and that would be not having impulse control problems, anger ones at that. Maybe it sounded like a thing a much older, wiser person would say, but enjoy youth. It only lasts so long, and Conor's did not, once he was...diagnosed with all that intermittent explosive shit. That alone was enough for anyone, realizing that you have the anger managment of a two year old, but the sadistic...anger....what was it? Yeah well, it was just icing on the cake, as some would say. Sure, his angry moments lasted quite awhile, the doctors were shocked when he said the longest was by a stretch of days not hours, but he wasn't always...extremely satisfied when he hurt someone, emotionally or physically. It was a triumphant thing for some time after, but in, say, three hours? The whole weight of the situation would set in and he would be screwed, which made him angry (that or drink, both were likely.) and that just started the vicious cycle all over again, a downward spiral to effing nowhere. Tiring. The day he found out about it... it was the world's way to tell him to wake the fuck up, if it was possible. Look how that turned out. It got him in the loony bin. Whee. Not to mention the constant 'fits' as everyone called them. Everyone who had seen them called them 'short-fused and way out of line' but Conor preferred shorter, three letter, nicer descriptions. He got into this type of mess all the time, or it felt like it. The anger wasn't really him; per say, it was the...mind? Ugh, he had no excuse, it came and it stayed. There was really no way to get rid of it, he couldn't imagine anything working long-term, more than a day...all he knew right now was that if anyone gave him any degree of shit for killing his hand later, they would be booted. To the face. Sometimes people just couldn't help but revert back to their old, first-grade way of functioning.
So he kicked the door open (yes, kicked, wincing would ensue if done any other way, especially the left-handed way) and waited. The place was pretty quaint, simple whiteness everywhere. It dripped of sanitization and the scent was always something that made him want to...puke, but that would not be ideal, now would it? After a good three minutes of waiting, suprisingly enough someone popped out of nowhere and, but of course, asked what the fuck was wrong- not in this phrasing, mind you- and how it happened. Conor figured the latter question would be a perfect time to lie. Yeah. "See it?" He basically yelled that, nice. He made sure to hold up his now purple-ish hand, it was damaged somehow. Shit. He continued. "That would be what happened. I can't say it's 'broken' but-" He was interjected mid sentence, not something you wanted to do. Control the impulse..."Yeah. I see your problem." Well, at least she understood that. Jesus Christ. He followed her, eyes darting from one person to the other, so on and so forth...hey, no one looked scared shitless. Happy times. Conor gingerly sat on the white-covered bed, now was no time to sleep. There was never time. Turning his head for half a second, without warning the nurse chick ran off. Hopefully she would be returning soon enough, before his hand turned any other shade of violet-blue. Sigh. It wasn't an outright issue, this whole mental thing. Everything it caused was, like ending up here. All the people that actually thought he was like that, but little did they know. You could say it didn't really matter all you wanted, but even for him it did. Not to mention all the times he fooled himself into a grim self-image. It was still that way, to be honest. But at least he knew why, he wasn't a person on the street who assumed. When something like that happens, assumptions become a hell of a pet peeve, if you will.  
He wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for his rather strong peripheral vision, but he was actually sitting a short distance away from blondie. Hey, the softie, that person it was too easy to, in simple form...crush. There was a sense of satisfaction, even though she wasn't the...best person to release your 'rage' upon. Emotionally, let's just say she would weigh over one hundred pounds, defensively she weighed a hearty three. Not impressive. All Conor managed was a small smile inside and a VERY light laugh. Irony, it was too fun. Especially now. The first time they met, well that was some interesting shit. She was on 'level four'. What the fuck was wrong with these people, putting some eleven year old has been musician who was depressed for the death of her...dad? Right? Whatever. But her? On the same platform as a person who breaks everything he touches and people with some crazy ass paranoia issues? The kid was pathetic. End of story. He could go on, hell, he could say it to her face, but she seemed to be in too much of a lala land to even bother with and there was a possibility he could walk out of there with another knuckle situation. Maybe not, but it was all chance nowadays. You could hold it all in to be released in 'private' later, or get the shit done now and just let it flow. The latter was mostly his choice. It just got worse if it was held in, and if anyone saw that. Well, to say the least, there would be consequences. Probably, there sure were at his grandparents'. But they were old and...sticklers, if you will. So it was easy to upset them. And then Conor was brought back to the present by realizing his hand was, overall, throbbing by now and it would last for possibly another...ten minutes before spontaneously combusting. He was convinced. He continued looking around, waiting for something. Boring. All of it. Someone needed to do something or come and help him reduce the pain in his hand so he could leave and attempt to kick off his plan of escape. Hah. Not likely, this was his lovely new residence, off to a winning start. Nice.

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2.0 this rambling is 1261 (which was a lot more than expected, haah.) lyrics are from LAST BY NINE INCH NAILS even though i was really listening to march of the pigs ^^

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[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

faintly, shayna heard the nurse closer, but still addressing another patient, but her eyes were still closed and she was still trying to convince herself she wasn't really there. she hadn't even noticed conor was in the infirmary until she heard the faint laugh from him. it caught her attention simply because she never expected the hear any kind of laugh come from the infirmary. out of curiousity and instinct, her eyes flickered open and found him in one fluid motion. without being ridiculously obvious that she noticed his arrival, she observed his swollen, purple hand, and she automatically assumed that was the reason as to why he was here. it was obvious, wasn't it? shayna barely knew him, but that was probably a good thing. sometimes, the less she knew, the better. especially when it came to people. she didn't like to judge people, and it was easier to remain unbias as long as she didn't know facts. if she didn't know facts, her opinion on someone was almost always positive. yes, some people scared her, but she liked to believe that there was light in everyone. conor scared her, but only because she knew he was a level four, and everyone in the asylum knew that level four patients were unstable and under a watchful eye for some reason. hell, they were locked up like animals half the time just so they could be supervised as much as possible. while it scared her that she didn't know what he was capable of, at the same time, she didn't feel threatened by him. she probably should have been, but the blonde tended to be more naive about things that it was healthy. out of the corner of her eye, she watched him for a moment.

she knew that she had only been placed as a 'special patient' because she was famous. or had been, at least. she wasn't getting any special treatment for being famous either, but she wasn't asking for it. she didn't want it. it would have been nice to not sleep in a cell-like room every night, but she would live. there wasn't so much media attention now that paparazzi had no idea where she ended up. she had known from the start that if anything, she should have just been a level two. harmful to herself. not even. she wasn't suicidal. okay, she kind of was, but still. she didn't have the courage to take her own life. or perhaps, she was too courageous to take her own life. either way, she had the thoughts -- she just wouldn't follow through with it. but being labeled as a level four? that almost felt like a curse to her. she wasn't unstable. she was just depressed. and with good reason. they just wanted to make sure she wasn't going to kill herself because to them, she was worth something. if the staff here could pull her out of her depression and put her back into the spotlight, they would probably be praised. if she was locked up in the level four cells, they could insure her survival and surveillance. that didn't stop her from feeling so bad because she still felt worthless some of the time. any time that the medications began to wore off led her into a moment of epic depression. when the meds wore off, that was always when she felt at her lowest point. however, it was only a matter of hours later and the staff would be back to inject her with something else. she knew she was forming a dependency on it, but she didn't want to feel poorly anymore.

when medicated, shayna was her normal self. it would be hard to pinpoint any kind of medical problems from the way she came off towards people. she was outgoing to a point where she would strike up a conversation with anyone, even a level four patient with a broken hand. she figured her probably got in a fight, or punched a wall. she didn't like to know things about people, but she wasn't oblivious towards the world. she knew there was some kind of anger management problem with him. she simply made it a point to avoid getting in his way. she was a friendly in a way that was hard to reject unless you were a truly cold person, because she was sweet and honestly cared; even about people she didn't know too well. "you should probably get comfortable, the nurse likes to take her sweet time getting from patient to patient,"

[/color] shayna spoke in a normal voice, turning her head slightly to look at him. she didn't move from her position in the bed, sitting back against the headboard with her head rested back on it. she had only been waiting fifteen minutes or so now, but that was still a ridiculously long time for disinfecting spray and a bandaid. but her injuries felt so minor now compared to his hand. she felt so .. bad for him. she didn't like causing pain, and she didn't like seeing others in pain. that was how she was. and to be quite honest, from the way his hand looked, she wouldn't believe him if he told her he wasn't in pain. instantly, she wanted the nurse to tend to him. her thumb barely even stung anymore, while his hand was probably broken.

she didn't know how he was going to react to her attempt at conversation. it probably wasn't the best decision, since she assumed that any little thing could make him snap if he wasn't in a good mood. however, sitting there and waiting was too boring for her, too tedious. while the boredom she was experiencing was a bit trivial, naturally, she had to do something about it. and conor was there, sitting in the bed near her. shayna was shameless, in a way. she knew her boundaries, but she saw no harm in conversing with someone her age. he lived on the same floor as her. she had spoken to him a few times on occasion. sitting there, she let the hand with the good thumb run through a few strands of her golden hair before scanning the room for the nurse, who had seemingly vanished again. what was it with this place? you would have thought that their priority would have been to effectively get people in and out so they could continue on with patients. it was then that she made up her mind that she wasn't coming back to the infirmary any time soon. she didn't trust them. she didn't know if they were healing her or if they honestly didn't give a damn. she didn't know what was wrong with the people behind the curtains. if she came in here with a serious illness, how would they treat her? her eyes fell on conor's hand again, and she couldn't help but wonder how they would fix it. would they just push him out with a bag of ice to hold on it or actually try and help him? it was a natural proclivity for shayna to be worried about someone around her. while he could easily cause her bodily harm, she was like an unstoppable force, and conor was going to experience her selflessness whether he really wanted to or not.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are 1225 words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? SHAYNA'S PRETTY MUCH MADE UP OF CONTRADICTIONS -__-[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL GETTING AWAY,and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO ME,[/size] and it's never going to arrive

It was, actually easy to ignore a halfway broken hand. All you had to do was avoid looking at it. Or thinking about it. It would be even easier if it weren't even there and somehow disconnected itself from his body, but that was far fetched. So part of Conor was a small step away from darting out of the place and shoving his hand in an ice box (if there was one, somewhere) but that was all up until she started talking. He didn't hate her. Well...let's all be honest here, she was too naive with the world and seemed to have a sense of...what was it? Maybe she was concieted. But Shayna was some type of celebrity way back when (or a little while ago) and everyone has some strange connection to people too famous for their own good, thus there were probably obsessive fangirls, which, to give her credit- could make one a hell of a uppity, bitchy person. There was only the good in life then, but now...now it was time for her to wake the hell up to the real world and realize that things weren't so pretty. And that was all innocence promoted, in Conor's experience- getting lost. Or hurt, or whatever. He couldn't really decide. It wasn't a sense of cynicism, just...and idea of how things went. And when you got into a hell hole for it, well. That was another story, a very long one.
Part of Conor wanted to repeat the lecture he was just thinking of, but that would be way, way too tedious and he was lazy. Especially now. And he really had no idea what to say, if you were anything close to agressive you would realize how fucking hard it is to decide on what words to use to put your thoughts...lightly. This was never his strong point, and he didn't feel like it needed to be so there was never a filter on the words coming from him. But hey, at least you the truth. The brutally honest truth, if it came down to it. Sigh. Here we go. "Yeah. I've noticed that. Thanks."

[/b] He rubbed his ever-color-chaging hand yet again, ever so slightly. Not that he cared what she thought, but if you had a throbbing hand people thought you lost. Which Conor did not, he kicked ass. Or at least it showed you were close to losing and somehow redeemed yourself. OR, you got what you deserved and the other person got it too, so it was even? Oh what the fuck. He had serious doubts she was running through those scenarios in her head, such a tenderfoot she was. From what he had observed, that is. And had he not seen some tiny little speck of blood on Shayna's hand he would have probably blurted out something along the lines of 'finally caring for someone but yourself and helping or is that even allowed' and he was damn lucky he did not, because that sucked. Badly. He didn't go around thinking up major insults that were designed to get to people, but when you had nothing better to do it was always an idea, right? Well, there was the blonde chick making a half-assed effort at actual conversation with a psycho, but right now Conor was trying to decide if it was as tempting of a activity as it sounded. What a good question.
Yeah, it was. And he felt like something told him he was destined to engage in it, enjoy it. You didn't see people much when you were stuck. In a basement. With crazies who could possibly have knives and maybe wanted to stab you. They all had nice cells though, so things stayed mellow. Haah. He had to think of something to say now...what'd she say when they talked that first time? Yeah she was 'depressed' and yeah she had no hope or whatever, blah blah blah. Maybe this was why she was level four, playing sick innocence while secretly using the jeidi mind trick. Oh snap. That was unlucky, even though most of the time Conor liked jeidi. Hmph. He should have said something by now, he was turning into an idiot. "So what happened today, blondie?" He had no idea where the fuck all this strange, nickname shit came from. He rarely used nicknames with people unless their name was...something long and tedious or some name a person hated. Why was he sitting here pondering, he never thought before he spoke. That's where all this crap came from, ahh. "Did you cut yourself? I've heard it's pretty vogue."[/color] He seriously doubted that, she was too right in the mind, if you will, to try to make herself pass out and bleed. She probably got a papercut and started hyperventilating or something. Who knows. He laughed a little, again. It was all amusing in his mind, the way some ass decided to forcefully put them near eachother, damn universe. Bet the universe had no idea what things Conor was capable of, oh yes. Things could get violent. Hell, things got violent too many times. And that was why he was here. Or so they said. "I had no idea you were that depressed," He mumbled. It wasn't like he believed half the stuff he was saying, but it didn't really matter. It was just one of those lovely, Conor things. Better have a good offensive because he had a good defense, to say the least. It wasn't cocky. It was seeing worse in your life than a few little spur-of-the-moment insults. He never really grew up with abuse or any of that shit but it was just...not worrysome. Trifiling matters. The only thing that bothered him about her, aside from her lack of a spine in general, was how she always sounded concerned. Saying it was disgusting seemed to villian-esque, but it was. Selflessness was like a trend, people thought it was cute to endorse things they had a ninety nine point nine percent chance of knowing nothing about, because all anybody knew anything about today was...electronic things, which Conor was lacking here. He had an iPod which was a key to life, and he did have a gameboy. A guilty pleasure was what it was, god. He was a crazy who played pokemon. A lot. And this was something people would never believe, he could be lying for all they knew, right? It was just a phase. maybe. He told himself that all the time, but it was probably unlikely. Deal with it. That was the best way to put it. Because it was gonna be here for a loong time, of course it would. Maybe that was the scary thing about the day he may actually get out of this, what would happen then? Grab the world by the reigns and go finish high school? Forget that and revert back to all this? Ugh, it was tiring. As if the hand thing wasn't enough. Where the hell was that nurse woman? Somebody needed to save him. Now.[/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2.0 this rambling is 1190 (which feels too short.) lyrics are from LAST BY NINE INCH NAILS anything important...AHH. LOOK AT HIM, IT'S SO HARD MAKING HIM ANGRY WHEN HE IS ALEX GASKARTH D': I TRY.[/font][/color][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

while shayna had spent a good deal of time on the red carpet, in expensive dresses, and flying around the world, she wasn't the kind of girl who let fame go to her head. she never took advantage of the blessings she had been given and she was grateful for everything. it was hard sometimes though, because people made assumptions about her that just weren't true. she was from a small town in tennessee. she had morals, she had a good upbringing, and she didn't need much to be happy. she wasn't materialistic, but sometimes it was hard to convince people otherwise, especially when you can sell out concert arenas in a matter of minutes rumors spread like disease, especially with the help of the media. and once her father had died, she just couldn't handle that kind of pressure anymore. no amount of therapy was going to help her settle back into things, even though her management was desperate for her to heal. but you can't force someone to heal. it's not natural. shayna needed her time to heal. she needed to do things on her own, and that was part of the reason as to why she ended up in the asylum. if she needed to be out of the spotlight, they were going to shove her in a basement and tell her to stay there until she figured herself out. inhumane? yes. could she fight it? not really. she wouldn't be allowed out of the asylum until the therapists deemed her healthy, and that required her to be able to remain happy without a heavy dosage of medication. she knew she needed the medication, and that's why she hadn't been figthing harder to be let out.

shayna hated the way people spoke to her sometimes. she was innocent, and she was naive occasionally, but she wasn't dumb. she didn't do bad things and she couldn't understand how someone could be so bad, but she knew what people thought of her. it wasn't hard to tell if someone liked you or not, especially by the way the spoke to you or acted while you were around. some people spoke to her like she was a little girl, like she was fragile and incapable of being spoken to with intelligence. it was like fame made her dumb. not a chance. a rare few people ever acted like she was a normal person, which was something she hated about having a recognizable face. people saw her as shayna heart, the famous recording artist. no one saw her as shayna heart, the seventeen year old girl. she was still just a teenager, she would just be a senior in high school. more often than not, people spoke to her like they had some kind of vengance out against her. she had never done anything to them personally, but they spoke with the assumption that she was a spoiled princess with an attitude, but that wasn't the case. in fact, that was pretty much the opposite. she wasn't conceited, and she never thought of herself. as conor spoke to her, she figured that was pretty much how he thought of her. it wasn't like he was trying to hide the negative tone in his voice. she didn't like it, but she wasn't going to call him out on it. or at least, she hadn't planned to until he made the comment addressing her reason for being in the infirmary.

her eyes didn't narrow, she didn't grow angry with him. that was his assumption, and she didn't really blame him for it. while she didn't seem depressed, she didn't hide the fact that she had been diagnosed with clinical depression. no, she didn't like the comment, but she shouldn't have really expected anything less. "yes, actually,"

[/color] she said with a soft voice. she didn't speak with a resentful tone or a spiteful one. her voice remained calm and honest, as did her soft blue eyes and the grim smile playing on her lips. "but it had been an accident. i was trying to cut my hair and i lost my grip on the scissors."[/color] shrugging, she glanced back at her thumb, which hardly even hurt anymore. she considered leaving, just because of the way conor was acting. she didn't though. she stayed still. shayna wasn't a fighter. she wasn't the kind of person who would fight back when someone tried to provoke a conflict out of her. confrontation wasn't really something she was fully capable of. she could be defensive sometimes, but she usually defended other people, rather than herselves. it began to dawn on her that confrontation was just something conor had to do, because of whatever condition he had been diagnosed with. she wouldn't get mad at him, especially if it was something that he couldn't control. she felt bad for him, she really did. however, she had a feeling that he was the kind of person who didn't like sympathy, so she wasn't going to express how she felt. sympathy and empathy were just things that shayna naturally felt.

she heard what he mumbled, but she wasn't going to address it. okay, she was depressed. whatever. she wasn't suicidal. and if she had been, she wouldn't have killed herself by trying to slice open her finger. she would have been less bloody about it, like popping pills or something. "what did you do to your hand, anyway?"[/color] she asked, glancing back over to him, the brightness finding it's way back to her eyes. grudges weren't her thing. disliking someone, she couldn't do it. hating? it was impossible for her. for some reason, she couldn't find herself being angry with the way conor spoke to her. something about him was just holding her there, in a state of being somewhere between curious and indifferent. she wanted to know about him, but at the same time, knowing scared her. plus, it wasn't her business. his problems were his problems and that was that. but shayna didn't turn down opportunities, and she didn't turn down people. "actually, do you wanna go? i don't really wanna sit here all day, and my thumb's fine. we can go find you ice somewhere if you wanted."[/color] it was a bold request, but she wasn't in the mood to sit in a sterilized bed for hours while the nurses did absolutely nothing. whether he accepted or denied her request, she would probably just go. she swung her legs around off the side of her bed that was closest to ethan, sitting perched on the edge, her eyes watching him. she wasn't going to press it. company would be nice, but she'd walked through the halls alone a thousand times before.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are 1120 words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? GAH, ALEX <333[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL GETTING AWAY,and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO ME,[/size] and it's never going to arrive

It was basically stupid continuing to sit in the middle of a room that smelt horribly of alchol- the common mode of sanitization- because after all, it didn't seem like having a hand that could possibly fall off of your body in a good minute or two was nothing short of a load of crap here. There were people in far worse condition, right? Yeah...maybe.  Not to brag, but that was why he was extremely surprised the fucker who decided to trigger the true meaning of 'explosive' hadn't yet stumbled in, laughed his sorry ass off at the damage on Conor's hand, before promptly passing out. Okay, the passing out part may not happen in reality. But he could dream. So that's how blondie hurt herself- she was trying to maintain a decent appearence in a psych ward, okay. No. What the fuck was that? After hearing that winning excuse, his money was on the self-harm route as opposed to scissors slipping and somehow slicing body parts. Okay, a finger. Whatever. "So tell me then, why the hell you did that? After hearing it my money is on self inflicted harm." We all know it was a pathetic excuse, right. He had to say it. He did. But that was nothing. He was...slightly, taken aback when Shayna mentioned something along the lines of 'what the fuck happened?' Well...those words would probably never leave her G-rated mouth. She asked, though. After avoiding every 'advance' of cruelty and bottled up sarcasm or anger Conor had at the time. He really didn't want to go there, the kid would probably go into shock. Well, no. Probably not, again. But god knew...she was fragile. Too bad he was never one to handle with care. Sucked for her, simple as that. You ask, you get it. Most of the time. And hey, this proved she must not have been assuming he (or better yet, his hand) was beaten to a pulp by someone random. Hell no, period. Might as well go for it. "I'm not sure if you'd want to know. In your fragile state. I...won though." Saying won sounded pretty damn immature, but he was past that. Conor was just too lazy to think of how to explain kicking someone's ass, but reverting back to when they first met...she must have been off her meds or some serious shit, because really. Just explaining what the hell was up with him seemed to phase her. Nice. So, off to a bad start it was...He sighed. What? Where did that come from? Normally that was another person's job. His hand was acknowledging its rather painful presence once again and the offer of leaving the so called 'infirmary' was tempting, oh yes it was. But he just sat there. It seemed he was in a daze; strangely enough. At this point he was slightly clueless. Things were all different now. It had been a sizable time since he was declared...uh. Insane? The word made him shudder, but that's what it was. It had been awhile since the though, but he still almost didn't understand why it happened. It was nothing exact, too many signs of one problem, with more from another, along with all the differences there were- it was all confusing. No one really knew; and maybe that's why he was here. All they stuff they did. He had only heard about it, supposedly it sucked pretty badly. Okay, it was shit. But why him, in that posistion? Wouldn't just letting him live his life and possibly get out of his grandparents' house fix everything? How could being around people like the blonde chick make him...feel better? It was enough when he got all the therapist, 'let's all calm down' crap. Then there were meds, of course. And now he was here. It only added fuel to the fire. It only made things worse, in his mind he felt more prone to snapping any minute here as opposed to alone. In his room. Doing nothing. You could say it was for his own good and...well, the safety of others. But that got old faster than you could possibly imagine and in case they forgot, sympathy was a lacking emotion in Conor, extremely lacking. They could drop it. They put him here, he was screwed, they all were. Everyone was in for a lot of hell, let's be serious about things. He knew it. Not really one small, insignificant speck felt like trying to maintain control today, fuck that, fuck all of it. It was a lot of work for no results. He just got here, but if playing nice only got you in a cramped basement and being a guinea pig for one too many bright ideas, that wasn't going anywhere. Luckily things hadn't progressed that far, but he was still in a basement and waiting for everything else to settle in. Not to mention all this angry and depressed thinking, yeah that was great.
And for some really oblivious reason she had no idea what was wrong with him. She had no idea, that, offering help was a really bad idea with sometimes painful consequences. This was why he was still extremely confused why she was with such a high level. There were people that could hurt her in a split second there, no denying that. Fame had its advantadges then. But again...how was a lovely little basement cubicle a privledge or a blessing? If they were supposed to be nice to her in particular she should have been dropped into the level two bin. Not this. It wasn't sympathy he was feeling, it was almost jealousy. God knew, if she asked or got her...agent or whatever the fuck it was to ask she could be out of such a high level in a day or so. Ahh, well. It was their fault if she returned to them with trauma or physical differences, not from him in particular. He doubted the staff was very trustworthy, the dude who ran the place was a dick as it was. Not a shining example for his employees. Conor could only assume that the small injury she seemed to live through just fine was the beginning of a lot of other shit. Hmm. He was rather enticed to hear what she would tell them. Things are going great? I'm screwed? I'm within strangling distance from a psychosocial maniac? Maybe even 'Get me the hell out of here'? The latter was pretty good. Too bad all they wanted their money, and that was Shayna. Money waiting to happen. Or, a lot of money that has been happening. When you have obsessive fangirlism...you get these things.
And she wanted to help him. He couldn't get that through his awfully thick skull just yet, no one ever offered these things, did they? Not at all. And he could see the hesistation an basically the fear, because hey. Let's face this shit right now, he was a violent monster. Yes. He knew it. No restrictions or control, remember? He didn't do sympathy well, no emapthy either. He was void of it, a blank slate in the emotions part of things. Maybe being with someone like Shayna was almost too dangerous, for her and somehow himself. He didn't know how his lack of sympathy affected him, but it would. She seemed to thrive on compassion and love for everything and joy twenty four seven, because she was one of those people that, after this whole incident, Conor would occasionally flip the bird to behind their back. Depending on his mood, that is. So right about now Shayna was pretty screwed. See, this was what people never got, and still don't. There were two problems with him, both the bane of his exsistance; the first and foremost one being intermittent explosive disorder...which was exactly the title. He can and would snap at any given moment, just pray you aren't there. The doctors said it was classified as an emotional disorder but also an impulse control thing, of course. Some people he was chill around. And with some people...they could only wish he was like that, and statistic wise there were certainly more of them. Regrettably. That could have been the problem. But those 'tantrums' only lasted for minutes. Not days. And a lot of other things were different, there was no exact...disease. But the second part of it all; that one was...sadistic something. Probably personality disorder. That was same as the name too, but if you didn't know what sadistic meant, then it was a hell of a lot of information. When agression was mentioned that just so happened to pop up. There, the rage is on going, it's...serious. Other people's misery equals enjoyment, which was sadly true for Conor at most states, like his previous fight. Humiliation of others. It was all him, the level of anger, the everything. Only the problem was he never killed people for it, the pleasure faded after three to four hours later. Sure, they were plenty of people hurt, ranging from nearly nothing to serious HURT. And that's where the lack of empathy comes from; the, quote 'deep rooted contempt for others' in general. They called it gratuitous cruelty, which was damn harsh, but it was pretty true. That's also where all the sarcasm and stuff came from, 'demeaning behavior'. It was a lot to swallow, end of story. And here Shayna was, trying to mess with that. Well, good luck.
So Conor had to rant. It was instinct. Sympathy was fucked over with him. He didn't want it, if you wanted to give it, you'd get a load of the sadistic shit. "Okay. Look. I don't take sympathy shit, get this straight. I lack emapthy, and to accept sympathy I need that, yes? So you can stop the loving of EVERY fucking thing for one moment." Conor slowed down momentarily. So much for trying to forget self control. Back to the subject. "But since you seem to be completely and utterly oblivious to what kind of situation I am currently in, and also what load of crap you just got yourself into..."

[/color] He pondered for a second. Right now he was praying...yes praying, to god that no one heard the half rage or he was seriously fucked up. To put it simply there may be no getting out of there. "I couldn't expect anything else from the epitomè of innocence. So sure...I'll leave with you..." The words sounded ridiciously distorted coming out of his mouth, ugh. Hopefully he didn't just kill her. Unlikely, but there was a possibility. He slowly eased himself into a straighter posistion for bolting if need be, waiting. He didn't know how much longer he could, though.[/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2.0 this rambling is 1848 WHUT THE EFFFF. (that was a hella
lot, don't feel the need to follow that up completely) lyrics are from LAST BY NINE INCH NAILS even though i was really listening to eotc? other important stuff...OHH GOD, THIS IS HORRIBLY LONG, BUT KTHNX MAYO CLINIC DEFINITIONS FOR HELPING ME LEARN MORE XDD ITS A LOT ABOUT ~GETTING TO KNOW HIM, DON'T FEEL OBLIGED TO POST STHUPERRRLONGG. [/font][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

lying. he thought she was lying. that was absolutely ridiculous. did she really look like the kind of girl who was a liar? maybe he just thought she was in denial. which she wasn't. she could understand where he was coming from, but that didn't make what he said correct. he had made up his mind that she was just as crazy as everyone else in the asylum, which was both true and false. she didn't see people in here as crazy. she knew that they had no control and they couldn't help it. in a way, it sort of made her a sick person. she saw the good even in the people who killed people without remorse. she knew that if she was in the asylum, she was no different than any other person who walked the halls. no one knew how stable or unstable her mind was. sometimes she didn't even know. and honestly, she didn't think it was very fair of conor to be judging her in that way, seeing as he didn't know anything about her. however, forcing it wasn't going to get her anywhere. shayna knew better than to try and defend herself verbally against conor, because there was no changing a mind like his. she hadn't seen him as cruel or sadistic. her mind was made up just as his was, and she could be more stubborn about it if she really wanted to be. he just saw everything and everyone in a negative way, while she was the exact opposite. she saw things in shades of gray, and he saw them in black and white. or at least, that was what she told herself to try and understand him better. she saw him as angry, almost in a way that made him seem relatively childish to her. not in immaturity, because she didn't really think he was immature. it was just that he couldn't control himself. part of that was his condition, which she assumed but didn't know for sure. easily, she could have said something that would probably shut him up only to provoke him to hurt her, but she was smarter and kinder than that. it wouldn't have taken much to just get up and leave him behind, either.

she probably should have, too, with the way he spoke to her and the problems that lay beneath his surface. curiosity killed the cat, right? right. and when curiosity leads the cat to someone like conor, there was a high risk in every move she made.

she wasn't suicidal. there was no desire within her to take her own life. okay, maybe on really bad days the thought was there. but it only lingered for a little while. "i'm not going to debate you on it. if you want to think i'm suicidal, that's fine. you're entitled to your own opinion."

[/color] her voice was some kind of tone between indifferent and caring. there was a balanced ground between the two that shayna spoke on most often, and she didn't even really know she was doing it. she didn't care what he thought of her; she wasn't interested, but seeing as he was going to give his opinion, she was going to rebuttle it. "i'm not sure if you'd want to know. in your fragile state. i...won though."[/color] in her fragile state? what was that supposed to mean? what did she look like, a five year old to him? it wasn't like she had lived under a rock her entire life. she didn't swear, but she had grown up around cursing her entire life. she assumed he had been fighting someone, or pissed enough to punch a wall. was she so fragile that he couldn't tell her that? it was funny, how in her mind, she felt so defensive and frankly, kinda pissed off. but she showed no signs of it on her exterior. her expression hadn't changed much from a kind of .. gentle indifference. "great, you won. congrats."[/color] her voice wasn't very enthusiastic, but the sarcasm was there. she hadn't meant to speak that way even though that's how it had fallen from her lips. instantly, she regretted it. something about conor was bringing out the worst in her, and she didn't like it whatsoever. but in a way, he was bringing out something good from her. their encounter so far had her feeling a lot less scared of everything.

and then he started going off on some kind of rant, which didn't surprise her, but it made her tense up a little bit. she listened to every word he spoke, and she watched him the hall time. she wanted how his expression changed and evolved into hatred or anger. if he was trying to scare her away, it wasn't working anymore. whether he realized it or not, he had just opened up to her, and that was enough for any traces of fear to wash from her mind. she tried to look like he wasn't amusing her, but he was. eventually, right around to the epitome of innocence, her eye brow raised and a faint smirk appeared on her lips. the best part about being in a depression, was that death didn't matter. no, she didn't want to kill herself, but it crossed her mind every now and again that death was better than being locked up in a cell every night. so even if she did leave with him, and even if he led her where no one could hear her scream and proceeded to murder her, it wouldn't be the end of the world. just the end of her life. at some point she would stop fighting him. however, behind shayna's pessimism was a whole lot of optimism. she didn't think conor would harm her, even though he could so simply. in reality, he probably would harm her, or at least do some kind of damage, because mixing fire and ice was never a good combination. water and oil didn't go together. in their case, she just happened to be that purified water and he was the tainted oil. they weren't going to mix. and if they did? it was a feat that would over come all things natural.

she didn't address anything he said. the only way he could have been able to tell if she was listening was if he noticed the slight amusement he had stirred up. everything meant nothing to her. he was dangerous? okay, great. that was awesome. she would move on with her life in a heartbeat. "okay good, let's go,"[/color] she grinned, before hoping off the bed and walking towards the door they had been individually led through. turning her back to someone like conor wasn't the wisest choice, and she knew that, which was exactly why she did it. while the girl was oblivious to a lot of things, she was conscientious of exactly what she was doing. knowingly, she turned her back to him and started to walk away. how easy would it be for him to wrap his hands around her neck and take the life from her? extremely. maybe that was why she was letting herself venture off with him, even knowing that he was capable of many things. was she so careless with her life now that she would start risking it to be around someone who probably hated her with every fiber of his being? that seemed about right, but it wasn't it. she cared about her life, but she didn't care about what was wrong with the people around her in it. months before coming into the asylum, if she had come across conor any where else, she probably would have acted the same exact way with him. in that way, she was quite oblivious. she didn't know what was welling up inside of him and she didn't know if he was working to keep himself from ripping her head off. however, that worked out in her favor, and gave her the confidence to walk out of the infirmary without so much as a glance back.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are 1348 words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? TRIED NOT TO RAMBLE. FAILED.[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL GETTING AWAY,and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO ME,[/size] and it's never going to arrive

Conor was far from the reason he was here now. A fucked up hand was really nothing special when you had a cocky tweenie trying to act like an ass. That or she really was one. Again with the mind tricks. It was all sickening and for a good amount of time he really wanted to strangle her. Why. But then he just settled on the finger, oh yes, so much more mature than violence. He was basically in a daze while she skipped through all of his hissy fit speak, which, to be truthful, he was happy for. He didn't need someone to give him crap about controlling himself or saying something about everything he did; it got tiring extremely fast. She was just annoyingly ignorant. It was almost like she didn't realize how he could get far worse than a simple rant of childish proportions. He didn't want to be public enemy number one, god no, he had just come to expect a  idiotically shocked expression from most people when he started talking, or at least letting his anger slip out a little. And there she was, blowing everything off and skipping out the door, which he would do momentarily. But he really wanted to say something, he really wanted to ditch her or savagely rant at her; for real this time. He hoped. But Conor...Conor just sat there. He was shocked this time, it was actually great how she just fucked that off and lived. So that was one hurdle down. "I never said that," He said while she was trotting off. He should follow her but for some reason he wasn't moving, oh shit. "Most people don't want to even know, and you..."

[/b] Conor laughed a bit, this whole thing was funny, why was he dealing with in her in the first place? That was far from his mind now, though. "You're just a girl with an extreme PMS problem and I have no idea why I'm even complaining. But hey, do you want to know? Hmm?" He was out to milk it, she wanted the whole story she would get it, he had no problem. But if he caused her to go in her cell and cry relentlessly, he was gonna be screwed and that was nothing he wanted. She was probably...tougher than, but he knew her for only a week or two. He wasn't going to chance it all. 
He wasn't trying to scare her off. He was giving her the whole truth, since she seemingly craved it. There it was, flat out and simple, and there she was, not even caring. She was fickle and acted like she wanted to know, she really REALLY did, but no, she didn't care at all. Oh, people. He was one, but in all truth he hated them. So immature. But that was the pot calling the kettle black; he was sometimes. At least he had the reason of a mental defect, not just being on a bitchy rampage. Conor skipped up and managed to get himself caught up to her, only to realize that she was just ignoring him. It wasn't a constant need for attention, just that when did she decide to get all psycho-bitch? Augh. Maybe it was defense, she didn't want to look all wide eyed and terrified because he would proceed to bash her violently, or at least there was a good chance. Not that he was planning to give up, not at all. People just got the impression he was a crazy killing...thing and he wasn't, at least not without regretting it's entirety later and wanting to punch something. Which he had done before, not today, but earlier. Some things he took the guilt for whole heartedly, someone was an ass and he was not going to deal with it, so either say what you want and get sacrificed for it or don't say the truth and be verbally sacrificed. Win win for him either way, lose lose for whomever else was there. These were the times when he wasn't always...sorry. It was a sad thing, or at least for some. But he didn't always care. This is why being with someone like Shayna was a risk, a big one. If she got hurt he was slaughtered, if not then...then it was miraculous, as rarely as Conor said it. Not to mention all the consequences of spilling all his innermost...thoughts to her, if it came to that, although knowing her that well seemed far away. But if blondie didn't think he would...or could, hurt her, she was wrong. He could and if she felt like being annoying anymore he wanted to. Okay, that's a bit strong, but partly true. No one knew though. It was luck. How you approached him, how he was without their intrusion, and the situation. Since he was so freshly out of a fight that his hand still beared witness, she wasn't in the best posistion. The conversation so for didn't help too much either. 
The only problem at the moment was that he had no idea where he was going. He needed to know. If she was leading him somewhere he...oh he would strangle her. But where would she lead him anyway. Hmph, then...but if she wanted danger she got it, now let's be serious. He was dangerous, everyone knew it, the staff did, that's why he was 'level four' anyway, right? "Where the hell are we going."[/color] That was straight out, that was good enough for her. Right? And he had other questions...why was she with him anyway? No one ever was. Awwh, no. Not sad, he wasn't lonely or any of that shit. He was fine, that's what he was- Conor was fine. "So why...[/b] He trailed off, it was a stupid question. But it was nessecary, he needed to know. There had to be a better reason than 'If I run away you'll kill me.' That was stupid. He wouldn't do that either. "Why are you still here. Next to me. Or, in front of me."[/b] Ugh. This was a bad idea, Conor always knew it'd come to this, wouldn't it. She probably had no idea and would leave when she thought about it. A bad idea. He didn't need to ask. He wanted to, not even he himself knew why he was following her, of all people, to possibly anywhere. Conor didn't want it to end up that he was going to tell her everything fucking thing he felt, that was out of his boundaries. It was dangerous, being close bred dissapointment, or so life had taught him. Life had taught him so many things by now, and sometimes they were a burden. If he could get rid of this apprehension for...feeling, things may go better, but that would be once in a blue moon. Sigh. And Shayna, of all people that made him think, was the one who made him that about something that deep and...secretive? He didn't know.[/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2.0 this rambling is 1200 EVEN YO lyrics are from LAST BY NINE INCH NAILS other important stuff...CONOR WANTS YOU TO HATE HIM. LOTS. STOP DEFYING HIS SNARKYNESS ._____. [/font][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

shayna continued down the hallway. at first, she didn't think he was going to follow her. she didn't really expect him to. it took him a moment to exit the infirmary and catch up to her, but eventually he did, even though he trailed a little ways behind her. she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. the circumstances they were under at that moment were so ridiculous and random it was almost confusing. two level fours, one had some kind of anger problem and the other was seemingly depressed. here they were, two opposites, hanging out in an infirmary and wandering around the halls together. random, ridiculous, and it made no sense. but no one around them would question it, so why should shayna? instantly, she let the thought slip from her mind and she continued walking. so yeah, she was ignoring him a little bit but it wasn't intentional. she was just thinking. she was used to minding her own business, walking the halls alone; it was rare for her to have some company. and despite the fact that conor was dangerous, she felt safer with him. was that strange? he was dangerous. she could only imagine how badly he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat. most of the time when she walked around the halls alone, she didn't know who was going to pop out of the shadows and try to hurt her. even though conor could easily be that kind of patient, she felt protected walking with him. part of it had to do with the fact that he was easily provoked and part of it was just the idea of having company. as a skinny little blonde girl, she was always a target. some people weren't as easy to appease as conor was being at that moment.

if anything, he was the one with the pms problem. or at least that's how she saw it, but she wasn't about to announce that outloud to him. she was smarter than that. having her head bashed into the wall wasn't the first thing on her bucket list. however, she didn't understand, nor did she like, his attitude. it wasn't like she could correct it, but still. she wasn't a five year old girl. she was seventeen. she wasn't dumb, nor was she being rude like he was. she wasn't asking questions. well, technically she wasn't verbally asking questions. her lack of input was simply provoking him to run his mouth, and that was pretty much answering any questions she had about him. it was funny how manipulative she could be for such an innocent girl. sometimes she didn't even realize she was doing it. "it's your business. if you want to tell me, go ahead. i'll be listening,"

[/color] he couldn't see the smile on her face from his position behind her, but it was there. it wasn't smug. it was just amused. she assumed it was her remote calmness that was freaking him out and causing him to grow more annoyed. she wasn't the girl who was going to bitch back at him or try and tell him off. she played her cards right. but anyway. his business was his business. if he wanted to tell her how he busted up his hand, that was fantastic. if he didn't tell her, it wasn't going to affect how she slept at night. she hadn't flat out asked him how he landed himself in the asylum, she was just making her own assumptions. most of the time, shayna didn't ask. she just observed.

honestly, shayna had no idea where she was leading them. she hadn't been worried about that until now and it wasn't like she had started out with a destination in mind. she had been way too lost in her own thoughts to realize where they had been walking. her feet had just kind of .. taken her where they wanted. plus, all of the halls in the asylum were identical until you hit the basement, where it was darker. otherwise, it was so easy to get lost. for her first few days, she had wandered around aimlessly until she started to figure out where things were. "i'm not really sure,"[/color] she said simply, glancing back at him with an innocent little smile on her lips. "is there anywhere in particular you wanted go?"[/color] okay, that time, the question had been more to annoy him than anything. she was starting to grow more curious about him, and she was subconciously starting to push her limits. shayna tended to be too confident in her own head. too optimistic about things. but mostly, she was all talk. if conor attacked her, she'd be scared out of her mind. she wouldn't know how to react, defend herself, fight back, or survive. you could say her survival instincts weren't exactly satisfactory, and that might have been why she was taking all of these risks in the first place. she trusted people too easily. she didn't know conor. she didn't know his real diagnosis. she didn't know if he was a sociopath or just misunderstood. but here she was, walking with her back to him, truly believing he was going to keep his hands to himself.

"all of the halls look the same to me. we can make it your job to figure out where we're going."[/color] there were no windows. and she didn't exactly see any doors. they were just in a hallway. there were plenty in alkaline. but what came next from him was random. his next question stopped her in her tracks. literally, but not completely. her footing staggered and she stumbled slightly. not enough to compeltely fall on her ass, but enough to stagger slightly and noticably. she turned on her heel to face him. "i don't have anything better to do, right?"[/color] she really didn't, but it wasn't like she felt obligated to hang out with him. immediately she began walking again, but she fell back a little bit so she was a little closer to walking by his side rather than walking in front of him. "i mean, i'm not exactly forcing you to stay. you strike me as the kind of person who prefers to just sit in the basement cell all day, anyway."[/color] she wasn't trying to strike a nerve. she was simply pointing out her opinion, and her understanding of how uncomfortable the basement was. she looked up at him with an expression somewhere between challenging and indifferent. more curious than anything. his question gave her a little bit of false hope that she knew he hadn't intended on giving her. she almost took it as a sign that he was starting to soften up to her, but she should have known better. part of her accepted the fact that he was too hard and too cold to ever grow soft in any way, shape, or form. a girl could dream, right? no. not in a place like alkaline.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are PROLLY LIKE 1200 OR SO, IM TOO LAZY TO CHECK words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? ITS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR HER TO HATE XD EVEN IF HE STRANGLED HER SHE'D BE LIKE 'OH YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING.' -___- shefails.[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL GETTING AWAY,and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO ME,[/size] and it's never going to arrive

As Conor was following Shayna through the hallways it hit him how horribly desolate the place was, this was different, being from a life of...constant shuffling and two other siblings things stayed mostly fast paced and busy, it just all lied with what time or what day it was. He was in his own thought bubble when she continously ignored everything he said. What. The hell. And then she started asking him questions. And then, this was the greatest- she asked if he wanted to spill his guts and tell her exactly what had turned his hand a light purple, it finally settled on a lovely, painful color. No, he didn't. But she was acting like it was important to her...no, not really. She was just annoying all the shit out of him and she was confusing. Did she love the world or did she hate it secretly? God knew. What was that load of crap? I'll b listening? Fuck that, she was so see-through. Was she the kid or was he? Or, correction, was he the one being treated like a kid. It was damn obvious that she was just flowing wit what he said and would say whatever to get him to shut up for just one second. But there's the problem, really; Conor thrived on confrontation and he needed it, her just dealing with everything and loving everyone and being all...in another land was really aggravating him. How the hell did she exsist in the world? Shayna seemed like she was stubborn in secret, but she was really being pushed along, because if everyone else found it as easy to hear her feelings she was an open book of epic proportions. No wonder she let her management or whatever send her here, if there was an ounce of serious defense in the chick she wouldn't be at this place. But no, this was shunned when you loved everyone. With Conor that was considerably pathetic, but if you thought about things may turn out differently. He was confused, still. Hopefully she didn't know. Why did he care what she thought? Just some...dumb girl who was in way over her head with him. He kept saying it, but she really was oblivious, no denying it. Or so it seemed, but Shayna wasn't bad at lying so far, either. So that was hard to say, at least for now. 
And this was why, he decided to give up. Sure. He would go with the flow, or at least try. For now, because then maybe she would drop the innocence crap and break a little and that was good. These things were good to see. Because so far Conor hated Shayna, but he loved it. It was a horrible conondrum, the whole thing. She was too sqeaky clean, there had to be something, there always was, wasn't there? "I don't want to bore you, since you seem to adventurous, I've bet you've seen better." Since she was still standing in front of him, he was able to smile a little at all of it. If she wasn't, which Conor believes quite a bit, that's how she came off. Was she better than everyone else, in her great world? Hmm, probably not. But he would pay to know what she thought, right now. About everything. It was disgusting though, he couldn't. She was making an impression now, great. He wouldn't soften up. It wasn't possible...maybe. Now he was just following her aimlessly, a little, naive girl. He couldn't, never. Once again he ran through the scenario of running off, but he did not really want to, and that was the most annoying of it all, it was easy to just leave and feel nothing about it. But sitting in a basement room really sucked badly and he didn't know where else to go, as sad and...pathetic as it sounded. It was all new to him, different settings. And she wanted to know where he felt like going, where Conor thought they should go. How about she payed attention and thought of something? Or, better yet, find a small closet where he could wring her neck. That was satisfying. But Conor just balled his hands into fists and stuck his tongue out, she was driving him even more insane than he was to begin with. Scratch that, she was just driving him insane. And he wanted to hurt her for it. Shame. So what was he supposed to say? He had no time to think about that though. "Oh, I don't know. It's all kind of new to me, lead the way..." Part of that was true, the new thing. He wouldn't know the place and she was pretty much doing nothing to help, so this was how he settled on just saying nothing. And like he knew where to go? Yeah, sure. Not at all, how well did she think he knew the place? He didn't remember ever reading a map.  He was completely smirking behind her back, though, anything to get her to just stop being so...it was just that she wasn't reacting, there was no word for it. She wasn't acting completely out of her mind and it was so...relieving it bothered him for some sick reason. It was just out of the normal and that was something Conor might have had trouble with. He should have asked about the closet, it was seriously tempting right now. But he shouldn't, that was rude and she'd get it anyway. It would not go in his favor.
Things did work for him when she was, or it looked like it, at least a bit surprised by the question earlier. Hah, the feeling as pretty great. She should be. And there she was, tripping ove herself. Yes, Conor could try to pretend her never asked anything like that, but he did and it mattered what she said. Hey, there was nothing along the lines of fear keeping her right next to him, but he could tell she had some. Everyone did, even in small doses, like in her case. It was expected by now. But because she had nothing else to do, oh god that was a bad excuse or the truth, hopefully not the latter. Well, apparently not. She thought that. No, he didn't think so, because there was an edge to her voice, but still...come on. Be real, who would want to? For a second Conor almost put his hands around her neck but...that wasn't good. It wa getting to the point of 'fuck self control' at the moment, because she couldn't be saying that without expecting him to get, well. Offended? If she meat that, truly, she really had problems. But whatever, if she said it. "HAH. Because really, I was just thinking about going back to the basement." Conor said it all with a sarcastic layer, basically mocking her the whole way through. She said it. She started it. So there. "Jesus Christ, no. I seriously question who the fuck you take me for sometimes, if I wanted to stay in a basement cell I would have chosen a different place, not a loony bin, okay? Yeah. But seriously, do you do that often? Act like everyone else is a depressed person? Because I'm not. I seriously have no idea why I would want to live down...there."

[/b] Conor's eyebrows rose slightly as he mentioned his living conditions, too bad he was already stationed there. It really ruined things. He said it all with a edge of anger. It was remarkable how she thought that but she didn't seem like she would make an observation so far off, would she? The whole question probably made her think he was feeling something for her, which he was not. Other than contempt, that is. But what else would you expect? Right now he almost wasn't sure; so far he cared unsually lots for what she thought. Or he thought he did, maybe he was just overreacting, that had to be it. Why was he still thinking about it? He really just gave up awhile ago. She was confusing him and maybe his plan would work out. [/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2.0 this rambling is 1403 lyrics are from LAST BY NINE INCH NAILS even though i was really listening to slipknot cause they're good angry music XDD other important stuff...MHHM YES HE'S JUST LIKE WHATEVERRR. IMMA PRETEND LIEK I DON'T CARE. [/font][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

shayna had a voice that mattered to the world. mattered to her management. mattered to everyone who made money off of her. in two ways. her singing voice mattered to those who made money off of her. it had always been a burden on others when she got sick, because her voice wasn't well. and then her speaking voice, her opinion, mattered to the general public. it had always been strange, having the world care about what you did. why did it matter who she was hanging out with or where she spent her days? however, her opinion mattered to at least thousands of people. that kind of pressure had always been hard with her. the realization had never really hit her until about a year after her first tour, when a group of girls ran up to her in los angeles and asked her where she bought her clothes. they said they wanted to dress like her. it had never occurred to her that the pictures of her in magazines were inspiring people to dress like her. and then there were the charities she donated to and the people who looked to her for guidance and advice. her voice mattered to a lot of people. her opinion had mattered, even though she had never realized it. she had never been egotistical or conceited about it. but walking with conor, she couldn't help but wonder if he honestly cared about what she had to say, or if he could careless and had other things on his mind. she assumed it was the latter, mostly because he didn't seem like the kind of boy who really cared what a seventeen year old blonde had to say.

shayna really didn't have anything better to be doing than wandering around with a fellow level four. she didn't have therapy today, and even if she did, she probably wouldn't go. it was always so unproductive. most of the time, the therapist asked questions that shayna ignored, or answered without really answering. never an honest answer. she could have gone to the cafeteria, but she wasn't hungry. nor did she really eat that much at alkaline. it wasn't like the food was sanitary. yes, she ate. she wasn't anorexic. she just didn't like the food. it wasn't healthy, nor did it even look like real food. she could have spent the entire day in her room in the basement, rotting in her own boredom. once it got warmer out, she'd eventually start hanging out on the lawns and in the courtyard, but the weather wasn't right for that yet. she stole a quick glance back at conor quickly. meeting him like this probably would have been inevitable. they lived on the same floor. they were bound to run into each other more often than not, and eventually something would have forced them together like fire and ice. she wasn't sure if she would have rather spent a day with him under the current circumstances or different ones. would he be angrier on another day, and more dangerous towards her? or was today an okay day for him? killing her probably would have made his life a lot easier but taken away a little bit of fun, even though she wasn't really paying attention to how badly he wanted to kill her.

okay, she understood where he was coming from about not wanting to live in a basement. it wasn't exactly luxery. it wasn't like her house back in los angeles, or even her little ranch house in tennessee. it was small and dark and uncomfortable. it looked like whoever designed the rooms half-assed the job. a bed and a lamp that only worked when it wanted to didn't made the room a real bedroom. it made it a cell. now shayna, she wasn't built for that kind of life. she wasn't strong. she wasn't tough. she may have acted like it, but it was a bigger act than anything. the only reason why she liked her room was because no one else could get into it. she was safe. or at least, safer, there. not so much once she was out in the hallways. sticking a whole bunch of crazy people in one building didn't seem like the best idea. "well, i don't know your living preferences. don't get all mad because you expected me to know something that i didn't."

[/color] part of her regretted those words. she knew she was only making matters worse. but she couldn't exactly control it. she hated how he stayed all quiet and then would all of a sudden pop out with some random monologue about what she was doing wrong. he didn't know her. he had no right to criticize. she hated how he was acting towards her, but she wasn't mad about it. to her, it was whatever. the only problem, was that she could only keep her mouth shut for so long. eventually, she was going to start saying things that may or may not get her into trouble.

she slowed down a little bit and fell beside him, walking entirely by his side now. now, shayna wasn't a short girl, but she wasn't a giant. she didn't have to crane her neck to look up at him. her eyes stayed on the hallway in front of her, but occasionally glanced over at him. she didn't know where she was taking them. they were just walking now, and he was going to have to take charge or accept the fact that they had no set destination. when she spoke, she kept her eyes off of him and on the hallway before her, but after speaking, her eyes were back on him all intensely and blue, but soft and harmless at the same time. "you're putting words in my mouth. i never said you were depressed. in fact, you're just high on life, aren't you?"[/color] her tone was laced with sarcasm. and while her voice sounded just as sweet and indifferent as it had before, the sarcasm was more noticeable now. after all, she wasn't entirely aware of his condition. she knew he was an angry boy, but she didn't know why. she didn't know his diagnosis. she just assumed that keeping her mouth shut and keeping her words unscathing would be the safest thing for her. it wasn't like she was getting bitchy or rude, but she was starting to get a bit snippy. and snippy probably wasn't a good tone to take around someone like conor. it had come out unintentionally at first, but she didn't regret it that much. maybe giving conor a taste of his own medicine would help him see that not everyone was as insensitive as he was.

this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are AGAIN, PROLLY LIKE 1200 OR SO. TOO LAZY. xD words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? NOW SHE'S LIEK, PSHH WHATEVS.[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL  
GETTING AWAY, 
and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO  
ME,[/size]  
and it's never going to arrive

She was getting sarcastic, or maybe just uncaring. But who was he to complain; she was the least of his problems here and this one second of his life where a girl was making him want to punch something was really unsettling. Shayna was really nothing but fake, and it wasn't a biased opinion, he had nothing against her so called 'fame'. She probably- no, she did not- have any more than possibly three extremely stressful situations in her life, and suddenly her dad dying crushes her. It may not be as bad it is was made out to be, no. But she couldn't be here for her depression and walk around like she owned everything and could fight you off if need be. It looked like too much of a facadé for him. Hey, in her defense maybe the possibility of being hated by half the population instead of loved helped her in the area, but not by such leaps and bounds. Conor didn't really either, or normal day things may not turn out as well. But if he was pissed he was pissed and it rubbed off on everything. Simple. He wasn't going to try and provoke whatever beast could be or was inside some distant part of Shayna though, not at all. It seemed like he already had though. Her basic indifference to most everything put him off in the slightest, but he was convinced his outer-self was not as transparent as hers. A petty thing like someone younger than you was not upsetting. Or not so much that is was visible. At least for Conor. And the way she kept staring at him didn't help. Okay. It wasn't staring but it was damn close and he wanted none of it, he would not fall prey to her innocence. When it came to overrated people like her he could always leave them or straight up ignore them without so much as a second glance, but not her apparently. Suddenly not knowing when he would get out of this place was horrifying. Along with not having idea where they were going. It all added up badly.
But along with the so called feelings of Shayna he had nothing better to do, and it seemed to him that his brain was really fucked up because it could not reason leaving her. Right now. Everything ended sadly and possibly with a series of cataclysmic events. But that was coming from some twisted, overdramatic part of his brain. Not the normal part. Like he said, it really was all new and strange to him, believe it if you would. Even Conor of all people still had their apprehensions and fears, mind you. One of those getting to know her, as weird of a fear it was. The only people he ever knew...well, those could be his immeadiate family, discluding mom. She was out of the picture and had been for years by her own misgivings. To be honest, if she came to him and offered to get him out of there, in one of her strange and possibly illegal ways- he would say no. He didn't know her, he had no idea if her druggie and alcholic stint created some akward agression in him. And, if he did go with her, god knew how soon she'd regret it if she did. Or maybe she would sabotage him and drop him off somewhere else he did not want to be. It all sounded fitting of her. Right now though...right now he might of said yes. The way the conversation was going could be considered a bit off-putting and he really had no idea what he was supposed to say. That happened a lot. More times than others he blurted out whatever came to mind, because he did have impulse issues and becaue it at least got rid of the ever-terrifying silence you could never seem to escape. Not even with mental patients, how screwed up was that? Very. How the hell could you have a relationship (half-normal or otherwise) with someone you were barely like? Hah, the thought was idiotic and naive. Like they would ever be more than just this. Akward silence 'same-level-friends'? And if she found a way...well amen, bless her sweet little heart, because things could and would get messy. No one was saying Conor was clingy, but he could be. You could assume he liked to have some type of ballast in life. Everyone did. And he had lost most of them by now.
And there she went again, totally doing the thing. He now decided upon it being some part of her true, bitchy personality coming out. But he wasn't sure. So far she was a confusing part of his life and he had no idea if it was the same with her opinion of him. But- no stereotyping here- even a blonde person would be able to say the level four living conditions were questionable and possibly unhealthy for most anyone. He didn't think blonde people were stupid, she was just building a reputation for it. The way she said things always sounded snippy, understandingly sympathetic, or assuming. Which Conor hated, all of them. He himself was snippy, but he had excuses. But they weren't excuses, see? Yes. "Don't tell me, you think that is fun. Seriously. But then that may make me realize why you were put down there."

[/b] Conor added his two cents as always with a slight sarcasm, of course. He was sharp and to the point, it wasn't really abrasive. Or not yet. And getting mad? What the hell. It wasn't like he tried to throw hissy fits over stupid things, jesus. She knew nothing about him. She had no idea what mad was, this was just talk. He wasn't going to threaten her and gloat about the ways he seemed to annoy or...scare, most people, but if she saw it and she didn't know what to expect she was screwed. End of story. If she was as tough as she sounded though, maybe she would live without trauma or shock. Mostly these things didn't do that much damage...at least he didn't know if they did. And when you were in a asylum you should at least brace yourself for the worst, right? "You have no idea."[/color] Looks like another great thought slipped out. Hopefully she wouldn't think he was trying to tell her something again. But it was true. She didn't, so should stop acting like it.
By now Shayna was standing next to him. Ooh.. Close. Creepy, really. He wasn't going to shove her off but it would take adjusting. Moments of close contact were rare since the beginning of this whole downward spiral shit, as sad as it was. Plus she was staring at him again, did this make most people fall for her or what she said? Well whatever. It wasn't working it's magic yet. He wasn't mystified. He doubted that's what she was going for, but some people tried these things and all they were doing was basically showing off all their strange 'power' in strange places. Ugh. "Well i'm sorry then your greatness. Maybe i'll pretend you never said certain things."[/color] At this point Conor was seriously fucking things up in the friendship world, in all truth he knew maybe some things he said were assumptions. He couldn't help it. That was all he could say; he couldn't help it. "Yeah, sure. I am. I mean, i'm in an asylum but yeah. Why not be excited about all the possibilities here?"[/b] He laced the quip with sarcasm, he was one step below yelling it to her. He smirked a little and rolled his eyes. If she wanted to play it this way, here he was following her. Love it or hate it, this was Conor for you and she better get damn used to it. They were on the same level and now they decided to talk again. Why? After the first time things were probably enough. She really did start this all though, he never said anything. Just laughed in the slightest, okay? Nothing really....hinting in laughing? So if she brought that up it was her fault if she was wrong. He hoped to god she knew what she was getting herself into. Deciding to suddenly go all...snappy on him would get her nowhere. Well maybe that was a lie. But he wouldn't let her annoy him anymore. Over his dead body. Which would also never happen. Win win for Conor. Again.[/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2. this rambling is 1434 lyrics are fromLAST BY NINE INCH NAILS other important stuff...HAAAH CONOR FAILS MBBY. AND I MADE TEH POSTS SKINNY 'CAUSE THE THICKNESS WAS ANNOYING ME. LOTS -____- [/font][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

shayna and conor lived in the basement together. their files were in the same filing cabinet in the offices. they were labeled with the same level title. they were both locked up in the asylum for god knows how long. other than those simple facts, they really didn't have much in common. or at least, there were no similarities that shayna could depict. maybe they were both defensive, but they were defensive in different ways. and they reacted to threats in different ways. going back to assuming, shayna figured conor would be someone who acted out vengefully on anyone who threatened him. he would do something about it physically. shayna on the otherhand, preferred simpler tactics. she never sought anyone out vengefully. she didn't have a bone inside of her that would ever deliberately go at someone else's throat. however, she could say things and she could do things, even just little thinks, that could mess with someone's mind. now, in the asylum, this theory didn't blow over too well since everyone in here was already not in their right mind. but she had some strange ability to leave people second guessing themselves. it was something she had learned to do, and it was her only defense mechanism. attack her physically? she was fucked. there was no way in hell she could do anything but scream if she was attacked physically. but mentally? well, she was intelligent. she was perceptive. and beneath those blue eyes and blonde curls, there was some kind of stealth waiting to be called.

conor was angry. shayna let things roll right off of her back. conor was easily annoyed. shayna ignored things, or at least pretended to. there were a thousand more differences than there were similiarities. while they had the same level, they were two different kinds of people. he seemed like the kind of person who walked around giving off negative energy, while she was the girl who walked around without much of a care and a smile on her face. she wasn't dumb, or moronic, or idiotic. however, she was naive and assuming. she assumed things about conor that may or may not be true. she didn't know what he was truly capable of, but here she was, pushing her luck with a level four patient. she knew perfectly well that level four patients were specifically watched more closely. they had the interest of doctor sharona himself for reasons unknown to everyone else. while her reasons for being a level four were simply fame related, she knew it had to be something else for conor. he was being watched because of something terrible, most likely. not many people got lucked up for being overly nice. more often than not, it was the aggressive, the insane, and the addicts who got thrown in. she knew she could never win with conor and she truly believed she would never win him over as a friend, or an ally in the very least. certain people, usually spiteful people, hated her for multiple reasons. sometimes it was because she smiled. sometimes it was because she was who she was. with conor, she didn't really know. but she wasn't about to ask.

she couldn't help but laugh slightly, almost amused. "the only reason i get locked up in the basement is because a whole lot of contracts and deals get broken if i get hurt. a lot of people in the outside world lose their jobs and their money, and it'd be my fault. believe me, i'd much rather be sleeping in the second floor dorms."

[/color] that was probably one of the most blunt things she had come out and said to conor for their entire time together so far. she gave him a straight fact. if she couldn't sing, people lost work, and if people lost work, people were unhappy. businessmen and women get angry and realize they've wasted their time on a singer who got mutilated in an asylum they've paid good money for her to be in. she hated it, but they needed her sane. they needed her good and healthy. why? so they could make more money off of her head. sometimes people were greedy. and honestly, that repulsed shayna. "but you know, here i am, wandering around with someone who could easily make sure i never sing again."[/color] she didn't speak in a way that indicated fear. instead, she spoke normally. casually. simply stating the obvious. she was calm and accepting over that fact. if conor turned on her, he turned on her. he wasn't exactly on her side to begin with, but that was irrelevent. her eyes remained off of him for a little while because she was starting to feel the significance of his presence. she felt like if she made eye contact with him at that moment, she would find herself looking into cold eyes. a fragile girl like shayna couldn't handle that.

she was one big contradiction. she could be strong and tough and shake off anything conor threw her way. but he still intimidated her and made her feel smaller than she was. he had been right about her being fragile, even if he hadn't said it in so many words. she figured he could snap her arm in half easily, even though it was a gruesome fact to think about. "oh tons of opportunities,"[/color] she said, feigning enthusiasm. "new friends and new adventures. it's all just fantastic.. it's a great feeling, knowing you could turn a corner and someone could be waiting there to kill you."[/color] she spoke sarcastically, but as her little rant ended, the fear she had been masking might have begun to shine through. she didn't know how obvious it was, or how observant conor was, but she did know that she lived with that fear everyday. she wasn't big or violent like conor was. he looked strong, he acted tough. he was fine. she was breakable. and there were just too many people in the asylum that liked to break things. it would have been nice to have someone on her side, but she didn't expect that from anyone. especially not conor. if anything, he would be the first one to hurt her. she was beginning to feel the vulnerability within herself and she knew she wasn't hiding it well anymore. she was just accepting it. anyone could hurt her, kill her even, whenever they pleased. she was putting way more trust in conor than was smart to do.



this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are ASLKJD LAZY. ILL SAY 1250 AS A GUESS words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? AWWH HE'S STARTING TO GET TO HER NOW. CONOR WINS D<[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[CONOR ELLIOT STERLING.]

-----I KNOW IT'S ALL  
GETTING AWAY, 
and it comes to me as no surprise

[/size][/color]
-----I KNOW WHAT'S COMING TO  
ME,[/size]  
and it's never going to arrive

Conor could see it now, she was getting...phased? Or he was getting to her. It was a satisfying sight. It really was. Seeing people fold was...okay. It meant that they thought, or there was a possibility- they saw Conor as 'scary' or threatening. He didn't have an admiration or desire to ever be that horrible, it was just who he was apparently. Or so said that 'level four' that stood out like a sore thumb on his file here. Wherever they had them. And for some reason he really couldn't imagine that being associated with Shayna; she was barely depressed from what he saw. Unless she went and wept on her pillow at night. Or cut herself secretly. It really made no sense, since apparently she hadn't gotten such a prestigious 'promotion' because she was famous and the world would just cease to exsist, without Shayna. Yeah. Please. Her army of fans that were probably hyperventilating right now would live and get over it. She would be here for awhile, he guessed. Right now Conor thought she was just fine in the head and could waltz right out the door, but then she apparently couldn't? What was that shit. She couldn't be that bad, she wasn't a terrorist or paranoid chick or some type of agressive person. Like Conor. If someone with serious mental problems ever attacked her and she said she too, was not right in the head (figuratively) they would probably think it was a lie. Which he himself thought before he started talking to her and she seemed to have proof that it was true. Hmm. But some part of Conor really didn't want her gone now. He knew her for all of five seconds and things before...were damn lonely. Even if she was here for the benefit of others' greed and some financial straits of the facility, things would be the same mundane routine that they were before and he needed some type of fun here, right? Yeah. Or he'd be bored as hell. So he was surprised when instead of the normal stubborn response of no, she did not end up here for money, she...agreed? What was this? Something either clicked or broke because up until this point she was denying everything he said, no matter how true it was. Of course this gave him a great opportunity to gloat about how right he was, and the thought was tempting. But for now he was analyzing the situation, the laughing at how true it was could be saved for later. Not too much later though.
He didn't know why he was so highly placed to this day though, either. It was an anger problem, only that. Right? Did he want someone like Shayna to get involved with him or just plain know what he was capable of? He was able to do many things, and if she came across him on a bad...day, well. God knew. She was destined for a strong hatrid of Conor. He was never ever put in this situation; at least not yet. And he didn't want to be. But these were the precautions you had to take when you were dealing with a girl. Not just an average girl either, no. A possibly mentally unstable one. A soft one too. And most importantly, a defiant one. When he kept saying she was fragile; he meant it. He wouldn't change what he said. He was basically giving her a fucking warning, if she wanted to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time he could at least say he told her. And all she did was say he was wrong. That he must have thought she was so weak just because she was famous or depressed. It was true and it had nothing to do with any of that. He had seen people's reactions to the way he could get with even the simplest, offputting remarks. People close to him at that. Putting into consideration the way he was feeling about Shayna now...it was a friend...a friendship he didn't want to fuck up like he had done too many times before. Conor didn't have that in him again. It sounded so soft and exactly like something she would say, but it was true, if that happened again his life would be friendless. If that was a word. But discerning from her tone, she seemed to be getting that. He must have said something. Because when you thought about it; or with most people just learned a bit more about him- he was scary somewhat. As embarrasing as it was. But hey, on the brightside of things (what?) he was getting through to her, right? It seemed like it. Great.
And of course he knew all the contracts and shit people would do anything for to keep. It wasn't for the sake of fucking jobs, how much was she pushed around out there? It was for money and greed. Those things were popular lately, weren't they? He figured possibly giving her a dose of reality was better than shoving the full force of his anger problems upon her. "You think I didn't know that already?

[/b] Conor laughed. He once she introduced herself the first time they met it was obvious why she was here. Her theory was slightly off though. "But jobs have nothing to do with it. It's called greed. And all the money they make off of your greatness every. Fucking. Day. You should know this."[/b] Better to keep it sweet and simple than beating around the bush for nothing. She should, being a seasoned artist this whole sell-out thing was nothing new. Hopefully. Money was and still is the root of all evil though, wasn't it? No one ever disagreed. Conor still didn't get why the hell she didn't just ask to be moved to a lower level though. Was it that important she was in such a high group with such lethal people? "We all would. Better than a quarter of basement, but not all of us have the privledge of asking to be moved to a lower level, do we?"[/color] Maybe she would answer the infamous question now. He couldn't imagine why she would ever want to be stuck in the basement cells for contracts, fuck them. Ask and you shall recieve. Or, threaten to expose your true mental conditions and the real industry, and you shall definetly recieve. No questions asked, it was the fullproof Conor method. And he won quite a bit, as proven recently. So much for fearless Shayna, it seemed she finally realized he was vicious. Sometimes. "Maybe. Just proceed with caution and it's...relatively safe."[/b] Being honest was another winning trait of Conor. But an annoyance to others, which was expected.
He smiled a little. There we go with the sarcasm again, but since most of what he had been saying sounded the same way complaining was completely contradictory. It was pretty good though, knowing someone who seemingly could handle snarkiness here and there without calling you rude. That was just bitchy and almost predicted, when it came from a girl, that was. "Yeah, well. A few here and there. And not everybody is that easy to kill." Himself in particular was such a person, he was one of the patients on the highest level here and it was a useful intimidation tactic. Not to mention that his hand proved he could fight back somehow. Shayna's current defensive situation had been said many, many times before. There was none. She could get killed, yes. But the thing that kept her afloat were the lawyers waiting to sue you for all you had once you did. "Like I can't say I would be killed that fast. You're kind of a different story though, unless there are is some ounce of defense in you I have not seen or am aware of."[/b] Well he might as well have said it all now. He had only had said such things to himself when she was getting cocky, but since she didn't have a large amount of overconfidence now...it was a good time.[/size][/blockquote]

tag SHAYNAA. banner from the almighty STALLION DUCK@CAUTION 2. this rambling is 1414 words. lyrics are fromLAST BY NINE INCH NAILS other important stuff...MMMN YEAH HE IS KIND OF TAKING ADVANTAGE OF IT 'CAUSE MAYBE SHE WON'T HAVE SOME RETORT TO EVERYTHING HE SAYS NAO. [/font][/center][/justify]

[! SHAYNA CHARLIE HEART.]

* THIS IS WRONG BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL

[/color]
- - - - LIKE THERE AIN'T NOTHING MORE RIGHT, BABE. MISTY MORNING COMES
( and i can't help but wish i could see your face - - )
[/font][/center]

shayna liked to please people. it was how she worked, how she operated. it was part of the reason why she liked performing and song writing so much. if she could make someone forget about a bad day, that was enough. if she wrote a song that could help mend a broken heart, that was even better. it sounded sappy and cliched, but it was how she felt. she did what people asked of her because it was what they expected of her. if someone in her management suggested that she write an angry pop song, she'd find a way to do it even though she wasn't angry. if someone suggested for her to write an acoustic love song, she'd do it. at any given time, if conor told her to get the hell away from him, she probably would have walked away. she would have been hurt and upset about it, but she wouldn't have complained. she wouldn't demand a reason. she liked to do things cleanly. she wasn't one to make a dramatic entrance or exit and she wasn't going to make a mess of anything. ever. if she couldn't help it, at least. greed. yeah. she knew that everyone around her in hollywood suffered from it. she knew her manager wouldn't work for her if his pay check wasn't so big. she knew that venues wouldn't sign the contracts to let her perform if she didn't sell so many tickets. she found herself constantly reminding herself that they could have all the money she wanted. she just kept writing, and kept performing, and kept making people happy. it was the only thing she knew.

until she came to alkaline. she had forgotten how bad the world was. here, she could follow orders and do what people asked, but it never really made anyone happy. her best therapy had always been her guitar. but she didn't have one down in the basement. she honestly thought that the healing process would accelerate if they would just give her a guitar. one problem. shayna did what people asked, but she never asked people to do things for her. like leveling down a few. she didn't ask because first of all, she knew she wouldn't get it. her management was paying a lot to keep her safe, and no guard or staff member was going to risk that bonus check. second, she hated asking for things. she didn't want to ask for a new room. she didn't want to ask for a guitar. she wasn't spoiled. she was hardly materialistic. as he started on about greed, she couldn't help but grin as she heard something from him. she didn't think it was on purpose and she knew he hadn't meant it, but she was going to bring it up whether he liked it or not. "you think i'm great? awwh, that's sweet,"

[/color] she cooed, glancing up at him for a small moment and grinning slightly, almost teasingly. or rather, more or less challengingly. "i could ask, but they wouldn't give it to me."[/color] and that was all he was getting on the subject. she didn't feel like explaining to him why the guards were going to keep her locked up or why they wouldn't let her sleep anywhere else. it's not like he would care, to be honest. she was under a strong impression that he didn't like much of anything that was coming out of mouth.

even though she had pretty much just admitted that she was terrified because people in the asylum could easily kill her, she was going to change her mind and defend herself against him. "i can be defensive if i need to be,"[/color] she started, "i mean, you don't know me. you don't know how i defend myself."[/color] no, maybe not, but it was probably easy to figure out. simply looking at her would indicate her level of physical defense. the mental defenses, those were harder to crack, but it probably wouldn't take conor very long to figure out. she played unintentionally, harmless mind games to throw people off. that was it. she had no doubt that conor would figure her out soon enough and play her like a violin. she was easier to read than a childrens' book. she could defend herself. she was at least trying in that very moment. she was kind of defending against him, as he made fun of her a little bit. it was a pathetic excuse, but whatever. "well, you're bigger than me. i wouldn't expect you to understand why it's so terrifying."[/color] what reason did he have to be scared? he probably walked around like he owned the place because everyone was afraid of him. and if they weren't afraid of him, they probably pretended to be just to make sure he didn't snap over something trivial. poor conor. she felt bad. she shouldn't have felt that way though. he didn't want her sympathy. or empathy. he'd made that crystal clear.

her mood swing was kind of sudden, and she wouldn't expect it to make sense to conor. she had gone from confident and snippy to nervous and afraid, and then back to something along the lines of defensive and confident. even though her confidence wasn't what it was, it would grow back. it always did, especially with the meds. she was so thankful she had taken them. she would have been so freaking embarrassed to act all depressed in front of conor. wait. when had his opinion started mattering? she didn't know. but nothing was making sense to her. she didn't need someone like him seeing her soak in her own misery, or listen to her vent about her family and her dad. she almost wish she had been more traumatized over the whole thing, because being locked up for a death that occurred constantly in the country seemed stupid. a lot of people had close loved ones die and they didn't need to get thrown in an insane asylum. was there something even shayna didn't know about herself? something more than just a depression? automatically, she assumed it was the loneliness. from having no family near her. no friends. quickly, she looked back to conor. there was a boy. and he had some problems, but she could look past that and make herself a friend. "you know, it's terrifiying not knowing who you're about to face or what kind of things their capable of."[/color] oh the irony. she was facing conor. in a way. more like walking next to him. but she had no idea. oh, she had absolutely no idea.


this post is for RACHEL WITH CONOR [/color]and there are AKSJDAS LAZAYY words to read. the post is DONE. anything else to say? SHE MIGHT COME BACK PROLLY NOT BUT STILL XD[/b][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]