they're awfully bad at learning — private

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    my character


    He remembered vividly the memory of the judge delivering the verdict. Alexander Mitchell Everett, the jury finds you guilty of murder in the first degree. You are hereby sentenced to a life sentence in Hilltop Psychiatric Hospital. Despite the fact that he was meant to spend the rest of his life in a mental hospital, he couldn't bring himself to be angry nor disappointed. There was no sadness in his eyes. Only a reluctant acceptance that there was no escaping from this fate, unless one of his colleagues decided to grant him his freedom. Somehow, though, that thought was only a hopeful one; he was sure that it wouldn't come to fruition.


    Alexander also briefly recalled the murmurs that flooded the courtroom after the conclusion of his trial. The case was a whirlwind; it had been decided after only two days, an abnormally short time span for a case of this caliber. Of course, the public would not know of anything supernatural about the trial besides his own enigmatic testimony. Everything that happened to be out of the ordinary was clouded from the view of the public by another supernatural force. But if a shapeshifter was involved, and they decided to take a human form, then normal people would see the shifter as just that: a human. Perhaps it would have been a different outcome were the shifter not a human or if he had not done the deed in such an open area. Oh well.


    Now he was on a bus on the way to Hilltop Psychiatric Hospital along with two other men. His hands and feet were shackled to prevent him from lashing out in any manner. Not that he was planning on doing that anyway.


    The drive to the hospital was proving to be much longer (and much bumpier) than anticipated. Alexander was swiftly growing bored, so he turned his attention to the other two men on the bus. Getting a good look at the men wasn't exactly hard, either, considering the fact that he was positioned in the seat closest to the back. One of the men sat upright in the fetal position with his knees hugged so closely to his chest and with his head down so low that his knees were pressed against his eyes. It looked genuinely uncomfortable, but considering the man hadn't moved, it must not be an issue for him. The other man, whose mouth was open in a silent scream, was positioned directly behind the driver, who was protected only by the metal gate separating them from the driver.


    But after a few moments Alexander grew bored of them too. His head swiveled to face the window to his right, and as he watched the forest pass by, a rabbit emerged from the underbrush. Maybe not too special at a first glance, and anyone passing by would either see a rabbit or not see it at all. However, Alex could see it — large horns akin to a deer protruded from its head. The creature happened to be a jackalope, something that he'd only seen a few times previously. A peaceful and harmless species, it was never something that he'd ever had to hunt for.


    After what felt like hours, the bus finally came upon the gates to the hospital. They were large — meant to keep the inmates in, of course — and made of brick and iron. Unlike the insane asylums of old, the hospital looked inviting in a way. It was clearly meant to accommodate for hundreds of patients, judging by its large size, but he doubted that he would be subjected to torture here, unlike what they show in the movies.


    The bus parked directly in front of the doors to the facility, and almost immediately after doing so, a man in a long white coat stepped onto the bus. He unlocked the gate and escorted the new inmates off one by one, starting with the man in the front. Alexander was the last to leave, and in doing so he was the last to actually enter the hospital itself.


    The facility was quite nice, actually. It looked very cushy and expensive, but it clearly was not meant to torture the patients it housed in any way. For that he was grateful. If he was meant to spend the rest of his life here, at least it would be spent in comfort.


    Before he had time to take it all in, the same man with the white coat ushered him down one of the hallways and into a one-person bedroom. It was actually quite nice; the furniture, which included a bed, dresser, and a wardrobe, looked to be decent. There was even a desk and a chair in the corner. A few paintings hung on the walls of various scenes, one being a beautiful wetlands and another being a field of purple flowers.


    Just as soon as he'd been pushed into the room, the door was slammed behind him and locked. As to why Alexander had no idea, but it made him uneasy. He warily explored his new surroundings before there was a knock at the door. The person on the other side of the door came in without even waiting for Alex to respond, which he supposed that he would probably need to become accustomed to.


    This person (your character) was dressed similarly to the man from before. He wore a long white lab coat, but aside from that, he was dressed like any person that you might spot out walking the streets. Alexander blinked a few times as he took in the man's appearance, but after a moment he cocked his head to the side before muttering out, "Hello."


    // raccoon Hope this is good enough! Sorry again about the wait.


    Finn could not deny that his work proved to be a constant area of fascination and interest for him. In the hospital he never had a dull day, with many of his patients excellent entertainment with their stories and complicated personalities. They were like a puzzle to him; some that he could solve, and some that were missing too many pieces for him to ever be able to complete. Nonetheless, it never seemed to matter, his ultimate success, because these patients were never to be released back into the community. They would remain in the hospital until the day they died, due to their rather heinous crimes. It was far from the typical medical occupation that his father had once hoped he would work, and perhaps that it what led to his father's sudden absence in his life. That and the man who shared Finn's bed for a couple of months. Not one of his patients, of course, for that would be entirely unethical and led to the revocation of his license. It was instead a social worker who worked at the hospital, a man who had since found another job that was states away. Today marked a year since their breakup.


    He watched from his car as a bus drove into the premises, knowing that the bus meant new arrivals. New clients that he would have to build a rapport with, attempt to help and drown out their dark stories with some booze and therapy. Locking his silver car behind him, he entered the hospital, pausing at the entrance for employees like he did every morning. There was strict protocol that everyone had to follow to ensure both their safety, and the safety of their patients. This meant their IDs were checked, their bodies were patted down, and their belongings were searched through by a security personnel for any potential weapons or contraband. Finn never had a problem with that issue. But rumor had it that the doctor before him attempted to bring in a loaded handgun, hidden inside his boxers. When questioned, he said he was doing society a favor. He was fired and within a week, Finn was the new doctor on the ward.


    Once allowed on the ward, Finn went to his office where he would debrief on all his patients and learn about his new patients. This meant court records and prior medical records that could clue him in on what he was faced with. By the looks of it there were three new men, Alexander Everett's case file on the top. Leaning back in his leather chair, he opened the file and scanned through the paperwork, not reading anything that he had never read before. A murder, which was a given, and symptoms of psychosis that seemed rather severe. Stories of monsters that went against the grain of reality, but to Alexander, this was his reality. Finn needed to remember that when interacting with the man. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and behind it a nurse who looked rather displeased. She was here to tell Finn that the men were settled; that the men were ready to be introduced to Finn. It was a crucial moment for Finn and the men. He needed to make his first impressions perfect, otherwise it would be hard to build a rapport with them. A mistake he made too many times as a new doctor, allowing his introverted nature to run the show. And these patients didn't respond well with introverts. Introverts were seen as a bitch; someone who could be controlled and manipulated. Finn had to put on an act to make it clear that he was in charge.


    Finn knocked on Everett's metal door, allowing a few moments to pass before unlocking the handle and stepping inside. Alexander stood at the far end, turning to face Finn upon his entrance, friendly enough to offer up a greeting so quickly. It was very usual for this to happen. Most patients remained weary and distant of Finn, who stood in a white lab coat over his business suit. A suit that would surely put a smile on his mother's face if she were still alive, happy to see him dressed so cleanly. "Good afternoon, Mr. Everett." he replied, his lip curled into a friendly smile to assure Alexander that he was on his side. "I'm Dr. Edevane, the clinical psychologist here on the ward. Are you open to having a chat or would you like me to come back another time?" He always offered, giving his patients some sense of control in an environment where they have little control. It's one of his little tricks.


    OOC

    Not as good as I would've liked, but I hope it's good enough.

    Alexander only watched and listened as the doctor returned with his own greetings as well as a question. The man — Dr. Edevane, he supposed; Alex was never one for formalities, though — appeared to be friendly enough, although this was likely just a front that the doctor put up in order to make his patients feel welcome. He eyed the man with a healthy level of suspicion for a few seconds before responding with a nod. "Come in," came his frankly curt response.


    Despite welcoming the doctor into what would now likely become his permanent home, he harbored no warm feelings for the man nor for most doctors. As a child, his parents would send him off to various shrinks to get a diagnosis, hoping that one of them would be able to make him crack and reveal something about the origin of his "unusual symptoms". Those symptoms included, of course, being able to witness supernatural phenomena, and after what was probably the tenth doctor his parents finally gave up and so did Alexander. He withdrew into a shell of sorts and chose not to mention what he could see for many years until he met a group who could do the same.


    The group in question referred to themselves as the Arcana, and they were a band of hunters that sought out and put an end to various supernatural threats, including warlocks of varying skill levels, vampires, werewolves, and the like. Somehow many of them were able to wreak havoc on the human world, and something had to be done to put a stop to them before they could get too out of hand. Doing so was never easy, but it came innately to Alexander somehow. So much so that he was regarded as one of the best of the bunch. But now that he was locked away, it was very likely that his skills would diminish over time.


    Alex made for his bed as the doctor closed the door behind him. Just before he reached the bed, a small blue ball of flame materialized above the doctor's head. He recognized it instantly as a will-o'-the-wisp, a mischievous creature that only appeared under one of two circumstances: one, the wisp indicated good things to come and were a sign of good luck, or two, the wisp was meant to serve as an omen. Either way, its presence was not meant to be taken lightly, especially since they have been widely known to lead people to their fates.


    Upon spotting the wisp, his eyes narrowed until the whites of his eyes could hardly be seen. The very sight of it made him visibly tense up, and his suspicion of the man only increased tenfold. Alexander rushed over to the man, and with seemingly inhuman speed, reached out to grab the wisp hovering gracefully above Dr. Evedane's head. It dissipated in his hands into a million tiny sparkles of blue before fading away completely. "Dammit," he breathed out, releasing his grasp on the air that taken the place of the wisp.


    A low grumble preceded Alexander turning on his heel and heading back towards the bed. His incredibly short journey there was enough time to realize that the doctor was probably incredibly confused and was very likely to ask him about what just happened. With a sigh, he sat on the bed and gestured to the chair at the desk, offering it to Finn.


    // No, that's very good!


    Alexander beckoned him in with a curt response, an action that Finn silently attempted to understand in a clinical sense. The door was already shut and locked behind him and a security personnel was on the other side, in case Alexander were to threaten him in any way. But Alexander seemed to want control, granting him permission to remain in the room so that they could talk. Finn responded with a friendly "Thank you," and remained where he stood, watching as Finn took a seat on his bed. But he didn't remain there for but a few moments, rushing toward Finn with determination in his eyes. Finn's heart suddenly spiked, fearing that Alexander was coming at him to harm him in some way. It would have been the third time he came in physical contact with a patient. The first time, he was spit on in the face by a man who did not want to talk to him as openly as Alexander allowed. Finn had to wash his face and then see the medical doctor, who did many examinations on him to determine if there was any passing of diseases. He was lucky to remain disease-free and other than humiliated, unharmed.


    The second time was more intense, with a woman running at him with her sharp nails as her weapon of choice. She scratched his face like a cat would in defense, revealing his dark blood that pooled the surface of his cheekbones. He had to be bandaged by the medical doctor, and then given a weeks leave to heal. His supervisor deemed it was unsafe for him to return with open wounds, and that if he were to continue seeing patients, they would only see him as a laughing matter rather than a serious one. That was back when he was seeing the social worker, who at the time, kissed the wounds away the whole week he was home. The man joked that they were Finn's battle scars, and that they turned him on, seeing Finn with some manly marks. And the woman who scratched him remains with cut nails to this day, as well as all the other patients. A protocol that would not be in place had it not been for the incident.


    But Alexander did not touch Finn, instead his hands waving above Finn's head, as if attempting to catch something. He remained silent and still, only looking up once Alexander sat back down on his bed in defeat. Finn then decided to sit as well, pulling out the plastic chair from his desk. It was a rather uncomfortable chair, much like the rest of the hospital. But he knew better than to make mention of it in front of his patient Alexander. Instead, he focused his attention on what just occurred between the two of them. "What did you see just then, Mr. Everett?" Finn asked calmly.


    OOC

    I'm sorry for my short response, I have low muse at the moment due to depression. But it'll come back soon.

    The man only watched quietly as the man proceeded towards the plastic chair at his desk. Alexander, who had never been much of a talker, chose to remain silent until the doctor asked a question of him.


    What had he seen? Oh, right. Dr. Edevane couldn't see the wisp. For a few seconds Alexander simply stared at the doctor, searching for the right words. Alexander wasn't crazy. He wanted the doctor to know that. But saying that there was a wisp floating above the doctor's head wasn't going to fly well. But what other option did he have? After a moment of contemplation, he gave in. "A wisp. There was one floating above your head."


    By now the doctor would probably be looking at him like a horn had just sprouted from his head, or maybe like he'd just grown a third eye. Either way, he assumed that the doctor would probably be confused. Perhaps, though, this was a story that Dr. Edevane had heard several times in the past. Being witness to the supernatural was likely to be a common story in this place, although Alexander doubted that the creatures that other patients had seen were real or not.


    A moment's silence passed before Alexander decided to elaborate further upon his statement. "Doctor, I see things. The supernatural. I've been able to see them since I was a child." If the doctor didn't think that he was insane before, he definitely thought so now. Alexander was sure that countless patients had told him the same exact thing, although something was different this time around. Under normal circumstances, it would be easy to tell that the patient was simply just seeing things. But the look in Alexander's eyes suggested otherwise — he had actually become witness to the supernatural. Hell, he even worked to kill some supernatural beings. One look in his eyes was enough to prove that.


    The man sighed again before looking down at the carpeted floor. Yeah, that certainly was not the best first impression. Only a few seconds passed before he looked up at the man. "I have proof, if you really want to see it. Whether or not you believe it is up to you. But I'm not lying."


    // That's okay! Take all the time you need.


    A whisp. The word seemed familiar, but far away, in the depths of his mind where he stored useless information. This time, however, it was relevant and important to the conversation at hand. Alexander had seen one, above his head, and attempted to catch it like one would a butterfly. Finn always liked butterflies, a quirk about him that led to several mean nicknames by his older brother. Sissy, queer, and so on and so forth. His mother always liked his sensitive, feminine side. But his father could care less for it, and on many occasions, attempted to toughen Finn up by various means. In the end, when it proved futile, his father resorted to beating Finn out of frustration. His father never lost a battle by anyone, but this was one he could not win. And everyone knew it.


    From his lab coat pocket, he withdrew a small notebook and a pen. He placed it on the desk and turned it to a fresh page, writing the date and time on the top, with Alexander's last name and patient identification number. "Do you mind if I take notes on our conversation? It helps me help you," Finn explained, pen clicked open and ready. Alexander didn't seem to mind, and so he started to write about their conversation thus far. The whisps and the history of visual hallucinations since childhood. He even wrote Alexander's demeanor, and body language.


    Visual hallucinations of the supernatural were not uncommon or rare in any sense. Most patients who hallucinated visually tended to see things that went against the grain of reality. It was the irony of it all. Most patients were far from reality and yet to them they were in the depths of reality, and the rational people who questioned them were the ones on the outside. Finn saw it all the time, even in his little sister, who had paranoid schizophrenia. He was the crazy one and she was the sane one, and eventually she swore that he would come to the same realization. She would prove to him that people were really out to harm her, and when he realized, he would tell her that he was sorry for ever doubting her. It was a fantasy that she lived in, and one that Finn did not break apart. He didn't want to hurt her anymore than he already had.


    Finn looked up from his notebook, a small frown on his face. "I believe your experiences," he stated, "I don't think you're lying." Not many people lied about having these experiences. And then Alexander spoke of proof. He had proof that what he was saying was the truth. Now this was what many people said. Everyone had proof for their delusions. But the proof was never proof. It was never even close to proof. But Finn, of course, could not say that. "What kind of proof do you have, Mr. Everett?" he questioned lightly, somewhat curious as to what his answer would be.

    I don't think you're lying. Alexander heard those words loud and clear, and yet somehow he didn't believe the man. Hell, Alex's own parents didn't believe him, and neither did the numerous psychologists that they had sent him to. He'd been prescribed numerous anti-psychotic drugs and none of them worked. The only purpose they served was to make him zombielike, and eventually he began to secretly not take the pills. And he was sure that the same would happen here, except this time around he would be forced to prove that he'd actually swallowed the medicine and not just spit it out somewhere.


    When the doctor asked him to show him the proof, Alex stood cautiously. His hands reached for the buttons on the shirt that he'd been issued, and one by one he unbuttoned them until the shirt was only supported by his broad shoulders. Before Finn could stop him, he slipped the article of clothing off of his body, revealing the many scars that littered his chest, acquired from fighting off several beasts of varying size and skills. He pointed to a few of the larger ones, describing their origins — one, a werewolf attack; another two were the result of being shot by two arrows from an undead archer. His stories continued for a while before he turned around to reveal another set of scars, most notable of which was the deep mass of scar tissue that ran from his left shoulder blade all the way down to the right side of his lower back.


    He recounted the tales of each of his scars before putting his shirt back on and sitting back on the bed. "Is that proof enough for you?" He fully expected for the doctor to tell him no. It was entirely possible that each story could just be written off as the tale of a madman, and he fully expected the doctor to say tell him exactly that. It's not like he would be able to use magic or something as proof; the doctor wouldn't even be able to see it. Even if he summoned a fireball in his hands, all the doctor would look upon would be air.


    Alexander cursed himself for somehow ending up in this mess. That stupid fucking shifter. If they had chosen anything but a human, he would still be free. Perhaps he would be out hunting down some new threat that only he could take down, or maybe he'd be holed up in a hotel room with another man in his bed doing an act just as unholy as the demons he's slaughtered. It was equally possible that he would be in a bar somewhere, downing alcohol so that, just for a moment, he'd forget all his woes and worries. Anything would be better than being stuck in this place, surrounded by other patients with whom he didn't belong. He wasn't sick and he knew it.


    Before Finn could stop him from any further action, Alexander unbuttoned his uniform and slipped the cloth off his rather... muscular frame. Finn quickly averted his green eyes, awkwardly clearing his throat as he contemplated what to do. He could not sit there and allow Alexander to continue any further, but at the same time, it would prevent him from doing his work. Above all, he knew that he could not look at the man like the fine specimen he was; instead he needed to keep him composure and remain indifferent to the tanned skin that beckoned his eyes to look.


    His mind suddenly reminded him of the man that once owned his heart. The man who has since disappeared, without any intent to return. It was an end of a relationship that Finn did not want, but was rather forced upon. The man did not want work to know of his sexual nature, in fear that they would discriminate against him. So when Finn made the mistake to kiss him in his office, all hell seemed to break loose. The whole office knew, and in humiliation and fear, the man quit and disappeared without a word. He only left a short note to Finn, which was a rather lame way to say farewell after the six months they spent in each others arms. Rumor had it that he worked a few states away at a hospital where he dated a female nurse. He was soon to be married.


    Finn listened as Alexander recalled all these memories, explaining the history of every scar that sat on the surface of his skin. None of them seemed plausible, however he remained there without expression, his arm resting on the desk. He knew that to Alexander they were very much real, so there would be no point in arguing over the matter. All Finn could do is hope that Alexander would trust him enough to start taking medication. Some patients did, some did not. But it never bothered Finn, either way. It was up to them, how they spent the remainder of their time on this planet. It was not like they would be released back into the community, where they could do more harm.


    "I can't say that I've known anyone who's been attacked by the supernatural like you..." he said hesitantly, careful with his words. "Why do you think this is? Why do you think these creatures attack you?" Those scars looked like nothing more than the average accidental scar, or perhaps they were even self-inflicted. Finn was more than familiar with those types of scars, with a few of his own, hidden under his suit. But he couldn't tell Alexander his true opinion, otherwise he would lose any trust that he had gained in those twenty minutes. Finn needed Alexander to trust him.

    He sighed once more as the doctor spoke again. He appeared exasperated now as he quickly grew to realize that the man still did not believe him. Despite the front that Finn put up, Alexander still felt like he was being misunderstood. Even after he showed the man what he thought would be undeniable evidence. Again he felt like a child being basically interrogated by a psychologist. It was a feeling that he genuinely despised. He cast his gaze upon the carpeted floor and spoke under his breath, "Of course you wouldn't believe me. No one does."


    He drew in another breath before finally choosing to respond to the doctor. "That's because they haven't been attacked by the supernatural. I have. These scars didn't just show up out of nowhere!" He waved his hands around for added effect before looking back up at the doctor.


    Blue eyes examined Finn's face for any sign of emotion or anything that indicated what was to come. The wisp's presence meant that he was going to lead him to his death or to his salvation, and although the chances of each were roughly equal, he didn't want to place his trust in the man. He couldn't. Not if it could mean his own demise.


    The man's question came next. Alexander didn't stop to think about his words this time around. Whatever notion the man had about him was already established, and no matter what he said, he didn't think that he would be able to change Dr. Evedane's mind. "They don't attack me. I attack them, doctor," he responded curtly. "I'm a supernatural hunter. Killing dangerous supernatural beings is my job, and I'm damn good at it, too. I've killed creatures that you can't even begin to think of. Werewolves, vampires, witches, poltergeists — none of them are safe."


    A slight laugh escaped his lips a few seconds later. "I probably sound insane, don't I? Like a fucking crazy person. Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. That way I wouldn't have to go my whole life being called psychotic or on some goddamn drugs that make me so numb that I can hardly walk." Perhaps now he was just wallowing in his own self-pity, but his words were genuine. It fucking sucked to not be believed by your parents, family, and friends, and knowing that they all consider you to be psychotic hurt even worse. Now he was going to be forced to spend the rest of his days in a fucking mental hospital. "The electric chair would be better than spending the rest of my life here, honestly," he added quietly, although whether or not it was loud enough for the doctor to hear was unknown to Alex.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by agara ().


    Alexander did not waver in his convictions when questioned by Finn, like most of the patients on the ward. Finn could not break down their convictions and reveal to them the reality that surrounded them. They would be forever stuck in their warped and convoluted mind, much more torturous it seemed, then being an inmate on this ward until their ultimate demise. It was a reality that not many people could face without depression. It seemed like only Finn could smile while at work, all the other employees stuck with an expressionless expression; an expression that was void of any true emotion. Even the psychiatrist on the ward considered his work to be useless, though for some reason, he continued to show. It was a matter of finances, he would always explain, but Finn wondered whether it was something more.


    Finn closed his notebook and looked back over at Alexander, who mumbled some suicidal idealization that was rather common in the more lucid patients. But it bothered Finn nonetheless. He had been fortunate to have only one successful suicide on his record, and that one was not considered his fault. Even if it was, he it wasn't likely that he would be relieved of his job. The economy was horrendous, and with what was known about the hospital, it was unlikely anyone would want to take his position. No one wanted to work with these people; these broken individuals who committed such awful crimes. Even the employees here looked at the patients with the same views, and it was obvious in their sneers. They considered these patients to be worse than anyone else; dirtier than dirt and unworthy of any kindness. Finn would never see it that way.


    He leaned forward, a kind smile playing on his lips. "Given the circumstances, Mr. Everett, this will be your new place of residence until..." Did he need to finish his sentence, or would Alexander catch on so he didn't have to say the rest? "My job is to help you cope with this reality, and help you move on so that you can live out the rest of your life in peace. I think that's something you deserve." One time he said this and a nurse that overheard it scoffed in response. These men and women deserved nothing but pain for what they've done. But Finn didn't see it that way. He never would. These were still people, who deserved kindness and help. "And maybe that's something you want?" he asked lightly, placing his notebook back in his coat pocket. "Come with me, Mr. Everett. I'll take you on a tour."

    Yes, Alexander knew. He would live here until he died, whether his death be untimely or natural. He was quickly getting more and more frustrated as the man continued to speak. Why couldn't the man believe him? Why couldn't he see that Alexander wasn't lying? In spite of his usually-calm demeanor, he wanted to lash out at the man until the doctor could see that. But he didn't, because where would that get him?


    Finn's next words only served as a catalyst for Alexander. He didn't lash out, but all the frustration building up inside of him came flooding out in that moment. "Peace? I will never know peace, doctor," came his words, somewhat vicious in tone. "I've been able to see this shit for years. I can't even remember what it was like to not see these things. As long as they are there, and as long as they are real, I will never know peace. Never." These words were not as venomous as before, but they still carried the same weight. "No amount of medicine can make them go away. Medicine won't fix me if there's nothing wrong in the first place."


    He leaned back a bit, covering his eyes with a hand. Did he want peace? Yes, without a doubt. But was it achievable? Alexander doubted that anything could relieve him of being witness to the supernatural aside from death. He sighed again, seemingly more settled down than he was previously. "Yes, doctor. I do want that. More than you know. But there's nothing that anyone can do to make it stop."


    His hand only moved away from his face after the doctor offered to take him on a tour of the hospital. "Let's go, then," he responded, his tone much more akin to what it was at the outset of their conversation. He appeared to be calm now, although he was still quite irritated with his current situation. The man rose from the bed to his full height of six feet and five inches, easily a few inches taller than Dr. Edevane. He gestured towards the door, as if telling Finn to lead the way.


    // Apologies for the short post. My muse is a bit low at the moment.