Yolanda Grieg didn't know how it had come to this. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in time that had lead to her holding a small letter opener to the throat of an Eldrich Asylum orderly as her parents both attempted to calm her down, to coax the formerly harmless blade from her hand. Her mother was yelling through tears, alternating between pleas in her native tongue and in English. Her father, hands held up in a gesture of peace, looked at her with a expression of barely contained stoicism; his eyes gave him away. He was a broken man within, confused and frightened, though whether it was fear of or for his daughter, that was unclear. Yolanda thought perhaps, perhaps it has been when she had fallen off of the slide in front of her classmates and had landed with an audible cracking sound coming from her right arm. Perhaps that had been the start of it all. Maybe, when she had simply stood with her arm at an impossible angle, bruise already forming with a nonchalant expression, that had been the beginning. Whatever it had been, this was where she stood now. A letter opener in hand while her other hand laid flat against the sweating brow of the nervous orderly. This is where her life was right now. She looked down at the man for a brief moment, before returning her gaze to her parents. Crying mother and broken father. Her hand fell from the man's forehead and the blade left her hand, clattering on the hardwood floor. Too loud a sound than it had any right to be. Yolanda's arms were immediately yanked behind her back by the second orderly who had been standing by, while the first gripped her around the waist. The angle of her arms would have been painful, had she been anyone else. And just as she had stood silently before frightened classmates with a broken arm, Yolanda Grieg silently walked backwards as she was guided to by the clearly angered orderlies. Her parents followed as she was removed from her home and guided to the back of a van, soon finding herself in a muffled kind of silence with cold walls surrounding. An engine started - it felt distant - and she sat down on a small bench that had been attached to one of the walls. She clasped her hands in front of her and looked down, appearing very similar to someone in prayer. She wasn't praying.

It had been exactly one month and two weeks since Daniel Fetzer was committed to Eldrich Asylum. Schizophrenia is what they claimed he had. He knew that was a lie, but by this point, he honestly just didn't really care. He knew he was fucked from the moment his parents called the Asylum. He knew he wasn't going to be leaving this place, and it's something he was able to accept fairly quickly, by this point in his life. He needed to, he didn't have any other choice. People who could see monsters were not considered sane people. He sat in the corner of a large, blindingly white recreational room, his knees puled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin resting on his knees. His pale blue eyes, which peeked out from just underneath the tangled birds nest of hair on his head, watched the others that were in the room with him. Calmly. Carefully. There were three other patients in the room with him. One of them was sitting on a couch in the center, looking absent-mindedly out of one of the barred up windows. He looked like hell. The other two patients were sitting at a table together, playing with a chess board. Along with the four of them were three orderlies, who stood on the other side of the room, one behind a gated window, surrounded by the medications of the patients, the other two on the outside. They were talking about something exciting, and Daniel was just barely able to make out some of the words they were saying. "...the new patinet?" "...had a letter opener...to kill him." "...angerous girl" Daniel sighed out, shaking his head a bit as he listened in. Another person being brought in and thrown into this fucking maze of a building with a bunch of other fucked up people. And she was violent too! Great! In the past month alone, he had seen three other new patients enter the building. Jesus fucking christ... he thought. Can this place really get any fucking worse? Yes. And he had no idea just how bad it was gonna get.

Yolanda had been lost in thought for the entire trip to the asylum. Her hands remained clasped together, feeling as if they were locked in place. She only barely registered that the van had come to a stop and the engine had cut off when the doors were thrown open and she was pulled from the van, the orderlies once again yanking her arms behind her as they guided her forward. Dressed in a simple white singlet, dark jeans and boots, Yolanda appeared normal enough - if her appearance could be deemed normal. Her hair was a bleached blonde, almost white, that matched her pale skin. Her dark eyes appeared almost black in contrast, giving her an extremely eerie appearance. The main thing that drew the eye, however, was the large tattoo that peeked out from under her singlet. A centerpiece of a bovine-esque Devil with spiraling horns sat at the base of her neck, overseeing a battle between an angel and a demon as shadowy hands reached up towards them, flames licking at the sides. The orderlies led her into what appeared to be some kind of recreational room. There were a few patients, most keeping to themselves. The orderly to her right gestured excitedly at her as he grinned at another stationed at what looked like the medication bay. She frowned, squirming in his now loosened grip, but the other simply held her tighter. Yolanda took the opportunity to study the other patients present. They were as she had expected, mostly just shells of human beings. One, however, seemed much more alert than the others. A man with blue eyes. She studied him silently as the orderlies chattered, ignoring their duties.

The new patient was here, and she was not happy. Daniel observed her as she was forced into the room, her arms held behind her back in such a forceful manner that it looked as if her shoulders might dislocate. But the girl was straight faced, completely unflinching. She squirmed against their grip, especially when one loosened, but she didn't seem to feel the pain she should have been experiencing. Daniel was very pleased by this. It had been a while since he had seen someone fight the powers that brought them here. By this point, most people were either lobotomized or too far gone to fight back. But this girl came in, completely unflinching, totally ready to fight--and dressed for the part-- and prepared for an escape. He had only seen one other person like that in here, but they broke, eventually. Would she do the same? His gaze shifted for a moment, going from the girl back to the dazed out man on the couch, then back to her. He then noticed that the girl was studying him, just as much as he was studying her. He exhaled a little harder through his nose, just one time. A quick, silent laugh. He lifted his chin up, nodding at the woman, acknowledging her presence as nobody else seemed to do. He was sane, and he sort of thought she could tell. She looked sane too, even with all the restraints and fighting. He wondered what she was going to do.

Yolanda tilted her head slightly as the man acknowledged her. So, he was at least present. She wondered if he might be one of those people she had seen in documentaries; ones that appeared normal but had epsiodes of hysteria. She gave an awkward shrug before her expression turned bitter as the orderlies continued to chat. She suddenly lashed out with one booted heel, catching one orderly in the shin. His leg buckled backwards and he let go of her in surprise; she took the opportunity to spin around on the one who still gripped her and smacked him across the face. The other orderlies came around from behind the desk, two grabbing her while the one she kicked recovered. He looked at her, clearly enraged, and backhanded her across the face. Yolanda's head jerked to the side from the force and she tasted blood. She supposed that she had perhaps bitten her tongue or cheek. She felt her hands being bound as well as her ankles with what felt like zip ties. Blood dripped from her mouth, staining her pale skin. She was lifted and brought over to a small couch near the corner of the room as the orderlies snarled out insults and threats. Yolanda silently smiled up at them, two rivulets of blood trickling down her chin.

Daniel had to admit, the new patient was incredibly amusing, to say the least. He watched the battle go on for the few seconds it lasted while the other patients pretty much ignored what was going on. And he even felt a little bad that she was eventually bested. She fought like a champion for just five seconds, and even the hit that pretty much brought her down didn't seem to phase her at all. She was impervious. They restrained her arms and legs, letting her lie on the floor as they shouted and cursed and did what orderlies did to people they decided they were far above. Daniel let his chin rest on his knee again as he observed the situation, bemused. The girl on the floor almost seemed to be enjoying this as much as she was, because he noticed her smiling as the assholes from above verbally assaulted her. It was unbelievable. Daniel stood up suddenly, grunting in an annoyed "I need to stand up after thirty years" kind of way. He leaned back against the wall, sliding his hands into his pants pockets as he surveyed the room for reactions. There were none. Every single person focused on what they had been doing before. He looked back to the new patient, who still looked like she was having the time of her life fucking with the guards. He then noticed that he was smiling ever so slightly.

As the orderlies continued to rant and rave, one peered down at her with a curious frown. He glanced at his colleague and nudged him to get his attention. "Hey. Can she even understand us?" His colleague shrugged and eventually stopped his rant to look down at Yolanda. He poked her with the toe of his boot. "Can you understand English?" Yolanda almost laughed, though she managed to instead school her expression into one of vague confusion. "Naturrlik kan ek jou moroon?*" She phrased the insult as a question. The orderlies all fell silent at that, one giving a loud sigh. "The crazy bitch doesn't even speak English. Why does no one check these things out?" One demanded, glaring at the others. "How about you all go and actually do your jobs and get her room ready?" The other orderlies shuffled off as the one who gave the order looked down at her briefly before moving over to the otherside of the room, losing interest when he thought that she couldn't understand his insults. Yolanda tilted her head to the side and looked at the man with the pretty blue eyes, who she knew had been watching the display. She gave him a slight smile before mouthing, 'hello'. [*Of course I can, moron.]

Daniel exhaled once through his nose, another laugh. He shook his head a bit as he felt his slight smile grow ever so slightly wider. He waved at her, a small, quick gesture he made by flicking his hand once. He decided that he liked the new person. She was clever. He put his hand back in his pocket, looking around for the orderlies, who seemed to completely forget about the new girl. The Orderlies liked to do that. They didn't care enough about the patients to really...well, care for them. Often times they left the ones who really needed help to fend for themselves. It wasn't a very well maintained facility. But then again, who cared about the mentally ill? Daniel thought for a moment about going and helping the girl out, but he quickly dispelled that idea. That would just get him beaten too, and nobody wanted that. So instead, he just slid down the wall, sitting again. He pulled his knees to his chest again, still staring at the girl on the floor. There was another sane person in the room that wasn't hostile towards him. For some reason, that made Daniel feel a little bit better about the shitty situation.

Yolanda was left to lay there for what felt like hours. She didn't blame the man for not coming to her aid; it was extremely likely that he could feel pain and no doubt the orderlies would make him feel it. The others in the room, they didn't appear to even know where they were, so she didn't fault them, either. A sound broke her out of her trance, a kind of buzzing sound. She guessed it was an alarm of some kind. As more orderlies filed into the room, she soon figured out that it was time for all of the patients to go back to their rooms. Two orderlies picked her up bodily and carried her down a long, blindingly white corridor. Sterile was the only word she could think to describe it. She wrinkled her nose at that. She was soon set down inside a bland room, small bed positioned in the corner, a toilet off to the side and a sink beside it. There was nothing to entertain oneself with, nor were there any kind of personal touches to liven the place up a little. Yolanda immediately hated it. One thing she noticed, however, was that the door had a small, barred window in it, no glass, and she could see across into the opposite room, if she wanted to. Small mercies. One of the orderlies seized her by the shoulder and brought her attention to him as the other undid her binds. "You behave. Behave. Understand?" Yolanda gave him a confused smile, the blood now dried onto her chin. "Ek is nie van plan om.*" The orderly glanced at his colleague and rolled his eyes before shoving her back further into the room and exiting, closing and locking the door behind them. Yolanda gave ane exasperated sigh as she wiped the blood from her face and moved over to the sink to wash the remnants from her hand. [*I do not intend to.]

Daniel sat down on the bed in his room, stretching backwards as he did. Daniels room was a little bit more decorated than the other ones. His mother still sent him cards and packages, and with one of them, she sent a package of chalk. She still thought he was four fucking years old, apparently, so she assumed that chalk would be a good gift idea. Regardless, Daniel got incredibly bored one day and, having nothing else to do while locked up in his little room, began drawing different shapes and designs on the walls. Eventually they were covered with intricate designs, which he still occasionally added to. Other than that, however, his room was nearly identical to the other ones. Daniel looked over towards the wall with the barred up window thing. Last time he checked there was nobody in the cell next to his. Perhaps he thought, the new patient was.

Yolanda dried her hands on her jeans and wandered away from the sink pacing then turning around on her booted heel, already on edge and bored. There was a sound at the door and she glanced up, seeing an orderly tapping what appeared to be a nightstick against the bars. She backed away from the door and leaned against the opposite wall, taking a guess that that was protocol when a orderly entered a patient's room. There was the sound of jangling keys and a lock turning with some difficulty before the door was opened and the man walked in accompanied by another, a bundle of clothes in one hand and the nightstick in the other. He walked slowly over to the bed and set down the clothes, which had a set of white canvas shoes on top. "This is what you wear, got it?" The orderly spoke loudly and slowly, as if his words weren't lost in translation but Yolanda was merely hard of hearing. She had the urge to knee him right in his stomach. Yolanda resisted the urge. "You change into these clothes, okay? Take off what you are wearing and wear these." Yolanda grimaced. She knew being able to wear what she wanted would be out of the question. What self respecting hell hole would allow such a luxury? Looking at the orderly who had spoken, she made an expression of exaggerated understanding before walking over to the bed and turning away from the two as she pulled the singlet over her head. Her tattoo could now be seen fully, only interrupted briefly by part of her bra. The battling angel and demon were more clear now, both equally bloody. One of the angel's wings appeared damaged as his body gushed with blood, hands gripping the arms of the demon, who in turn had a long cut running across his chest, the rest of his body covered in blood. A horn appeared to have been snapped off. The reaching, shadowy hands gripped the ankle of the angel, perhaps attempting to hinder him, while others still seemed to try and hold up the demon as flames roared up the sides. One of the orderlies made a sound, a cross between a noise of admiration and disgust. "This one is completely fucked up. She's probably been speaking straight Devil language this whole time." Yolanda, still facing away, rolled her eyes. She put on a plain white shirt that was a little big for her before slipping off her boots and jeans, replacing them with white pants and the canvas shoes. The orderlies collected her things, one watching her as the other opened the door. They stepped out and there was the sound of the door being locked before there was once again silence.

And suddenly, there was Daniel, at the bars of the window, looking into Yolanda's cell. He leaned against the wall, sort of looking her over as he peeked into her room. He saw that, yes, there was no difference in this room either, as it was in it's base state currently, with it's white brick walls, plain white bed, toilet, etc. "So, what did they lock you up for?" He asked, grabbing one of the bars with his hand, smiling a bit. "Obviously theres something wrong with us, right? They would never--dare I say it-- imprison us without knowing what they're talking about right?" he chuckled a little at his own joke, something he tended to do often. Daniel liked to joke about things like this because his humor was honestly one of the only things helping him get over the fact that he probably wasn't getting out of this place very soon, if he was getting let out at all. He rubbed at one of his eyes as he coontinued to talk. "I mean, you have first hand experience with just how well these guys handle new and strange situations. Clearly the top of their class, right?

Yolanda gave a short start at the sound of a new voice and looked up from fiddling with her clothes to see the man from before was now at the door, one hand gripping one of the bars. She looked at him curiously for a moment before walking over, dark eyes meeting his blue. She smiled a little at his dadk humour before leaning her head against the door, right by the bars. "I can't feel pain," Yolanda replied, her accent prominent and tone filled with disgust. "They're sure it's a mental block or something. They're idiots." She observed him for a few moments longer before continuing, "What about you? You don't seem very crazy. On the surface, at least."

Daniel's usual tired looking eyes went a bit wide, the smile latching onto his face once again. That was definitely an interesting problem to have. Though, he didn't really think it warranted being thrown into an asylum, that's for sure. He was enjoying being able to actually have a conversation with someone who could hold one. The other patients could talk to him, but they were all...broken. By the asylum. They were too scared to talk. And the orderlies? Well, the term "brick wall" came to mind. "Well, apparently they have me pinned down for schizophrenia, but I don't buy it. The voices in my head don't either." Daniel tapped his head at the mention of the nonexistent voices, smiling a bit more. The girl chuckled a little, and Daniel instantly knew that she clearly knew what good comedy was "And the insomnia on top of that? Well, I look like a mess, and I sound like a mess, so I am a mess, apparently. I dont think I've actually had a full nights sleep in... like, three months. It's pretty annoying."

Yolanda moved so that she was facing Daniel fully. They were now face-to-face, standing across from each other like friends - except for the fact there was a locked door seperating them. "You don't look so bad. Maybe even handsome, if you did your hair." She smiled in a good natured way, clearly meaning no offense by her comment. Yolanda tapped one finger against the side of a bar, regarding how difficult it would be to break one. Impossible with only her bare hands.

Daniel absolutely snorted at that one, for multiple reasons, which he made known. "Ah, yes, well, I'll just ask one of the orderlies to style my hair." he said, chuckling to himself. HE hadn't thought about his hair at all in the time he had been here. His mind flashed back to New Years Eve, five months ago. He'd spent it with his family, and his girlfriend at the time insisted on cutting his hair and slicking it to one side. Back when he actually gave a shit about how he looked. He looked nice though. People had said that about him. It felt so long ago. "Wow, man, I haven't thought about my hair in months. Probably because I'm too busy thinking about just how shitty it is here, right?" He leaned in, a bit of seriousness in his voice now, his eyes piercing hers with a certain intensity he rarely had. He pressed his face against the bars, gripping them a bit with his hands as he began to speak. "Listen, these people? These people are a bunch of sick fucks. They don't care about any of the people in here, and it's not right. The patients have things they need. Medications, belongings, needs, basic fucking human rights, that they don't get. That we don't get. That isn't right, it's fucking mind blowingly awful. I'm telling you this because you seem like you know how to handle yourself--you obviously can, you're a goddamned fighting machine. The point is, when they deprive you of that right, just take it. Just act like you don't care. It fucking kills them if their torture methods don't work, it's fucking beautiful when it happens. Modern art. They're a bunch of fucking children, dont give them the satisfaction of getting pissed." He stepped back now, smiling mischievously. "I try to do it at least once a day. You should too, it's great for stress relief."

Yolanda arched an eyebrow at Daniel's speech. "What do you think I've been doing? They don't even think that I can speak English," She rolled her eyes at that. "Shows how much of a background check they do on people before hauling them away." She looked past Daniel then, over his shoulder. There were a few stray patients wandering around, clearly having no idea where they were or even who they are. Yolanda frowned a little; what had they done to deserve this place? She had only been here for a little over half an hour and she already found it to be a living hell. She returned her attention to Daniel with a sigh. "Do you know how long they'll keep me in my room for? I at least want to have a look around."

Daniel shrugged, shaking his head a bit, trying to place just how long she would be in her cell. She was sort of a ticking time bomb, but right now, she seemed subdued enough. "Fuck, man, I dunno, you beat the shit out of a couple of the orderlies, you were being a bit uncooperative, they apparently think you're, like, Lucifer or something. But they're also a bunch of fucking idiots, so I honestly have no idea. But I do know for a fact that all of the other patients are allowed to roam for a little bit in about an hour or so, so maybe they'll let you out then if you dont try to fuck them up again?"

Yolanda was clearly displeased with the prospect of having to behave herself. She had never been one to follow rules, especially from people whom she despised. The orderlies fell into that category. However, she wasn't stupid - she knew that if she didn't start to behave, she wouldn't be given the sparse privileges that the other patients were provided with. "I won't hurt them," Yolanda replied finally, before adding, "Physically." She gave Daniel a smirk, dark eyes narrowing slightly.

Daniel chuckled a bit at the possibility of mental assaults on the Orderlies. "Well, hopefully you'll end up being able to wander around for a bit. Ah, try playing up the "helpless, sexy foreign girl" thing. They're a bunch of single horny thirty-somethings, they'll be under you're god damned thumb in thirty seconds flat, I can guarantee it." Tim was leaned against the bars now, an amused look plastered on his face. "You totally know I'm right" he said, rubbing his eyes a bit.