Ooc: so the garden?
Whitley Duke Psychiatric Center // Rp thread // REMAKE // SIGN-UP LINK INSIDE
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Mhmm
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Ooc: ok
Ic:
Red walked through the garden seeing all the blue, red, and yellow flowers.she smiled a but and sat down by the fountain looking at the flowers she picked.Red smelled one of the red roses and drops it, wincing one of the things poking her.she signs and picks it up again from the ground and sets it with the others -
Dixon, looked behind him, still carrying the blue opium in his finger tips. "Oh, hello." he said, barely above a whisper. His heart was racing.
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Red looked up at a voice and smiles a bit "hi"she says seeing the blue flowers in his hands."you like flowers to?"she asks
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"I do." his voice was deep and quiet, "I like the ones that have the greatest beauty, but the most agonizing pain." he said, handing her one of his red roses, which had no thorns.
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"Thank you"red says taking it "it seems we both like the the flowers with pain like roses"she says smelling the rose
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He smiled with a nod. "Indeed we do. What is your name?" he asked.
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"Red as in a redrose"she says gesturing to all the rose bushes. "What's yours?"She asks
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"Dixon. Dixon Temper." he said, still smiling. "That's a petty name you have." he added, staring off at the greens before his sight.
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"Thanks yours to"red says.she looks around and says "you stuck in rehab to?"she asks a few minutes later
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"Stuck? Hah, I've been here for ten years." he said, sighing. "Sometimes I wonder when I'll ever get out..." his voice was followed by a mumble.
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"I've been here 5 years"red says looking down at the ground. "It's like in that shatter me book where she's stuck in asylum since her touch is lethal, her touch is death"she adds picking up a red rode and twirling it in her finger
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Bump?
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Silently, May's shaky fingers moved on a key pad, mechanically. Only pausing in the brief moments when she knew she needed a better word. She was no sitting upright in her seat and hat in every boron minute of it, but what could she do about it? She entertained her simple brain with the lines she formed effortlessly.
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He nodded, "I was admitted at thirteen. I'm twenty-three now. How old are you?" his bass voice was kind and somehow gentle in the depth of it.
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"I was here at the age of 12 just because they thought I cut since I use to climb trees and I would have scars on my arms but not I'm 17 years old never have neverseen my parents ever since that day what about you?"Red asks looking up at him
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"My father was an alcoholic, my mother a drug addict by now. They despised me, and I was abused very often. People at my school would bully me for having braces, so I cut them off one day. Of course, I had to get them back about a month or two ago. I never really had friends; I was afraid of talking too much. I was afraid of people." he explained, his smile appearing to show his pink and green braces with yellow rubberbands as he stared at a butterfly.
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"Samebut I would actually cut and would starve myself "red says looking at the butterfly."I want to stay inside all day I want the world to go away"she sings to herself looking at the butterfly
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"I have anorexia nervosa." he sighed, taking a cracker from his pocket and eating it. "Well, the garden is about to close, and I need some sleep." he added, standing with his opium, "Nice meeting ya'. Later." he wandered off up to his room.