.the hardest part;;

[.xander;;]

.as usual, the cafeteria was littered with nutcases. no one liked the therapy sessions and the game courts were far away, so the next best area to socialize was, of course, where the food was. it looked a lot like the kind of cafeteria one would find inside a middle school, with people settling in among their own little “group,” giving nasty glares to those they didn’t like, and shouting across the vast room at others still. the only difference was that some of these people were lining up along the fully-glass wall on the far side of the room; some to eat in the courtyard and some to catch the buses that would take them beyond the gates of the asylum and into the south sector of the city, where freedom was theirs and yet not theirs at the same time.

the calculating eyes of a wolf surveyed this scene. to their owner, it was no different than any other day. the eaters acted mad. the guards looked on in boredom. the lunch ladies scowled. the food sucked. just another day in paradise.

chicken fried steak, instant mashed potatoes, and half-cooked green beans were far from paradise to the young man who said nothing as an ominously large guy trailed him equally silently.

xander had gained the privilege of exiting his room after two years of decent behavior in the quack shack. another year earned him his right to eat with his own hands instead of being locked in a straitjacket all day. one day, he would also be allowed to visit the north sector, and maybe, if he was very lucky and behaved like a little angel for fifty years, the south sector. yet he knew he would never be permitted to go anywhere without stan or dan, his personal guard dogs. nor was he ever going to go outside the confines of the city. killers did not belong in the outside world.

as he sat down in one of the few empty picnic-bench-like tables, a few people seated at the next one over turned to give him dirty looks. a few of them muttered things like “ew, it’s dogbreath,” or “who does wolfboy think he is?” for daring to even sit so close to them. xander’s eyes squeezed shut as he blocked their voices out of his mind. he found, though, that what stared back at him from the insides of his eyelids was more unpleasant than the others’ insults. gold-black eyes pierced his own. they were cold and harsh, and though the wolf said nothing, xander snarled, shut up, you son of a bitch, at it before opening his eyes once more.

for a while, he stared blankly at his tray that remained untouched. before long, something in front of him caught his eye and he looked up hastily, questioning what kind of psychopath would even think about approaching him;;

[-poe]

She had to escape the stillness and silence of her second floor dorm, or she would go insane. At the thought, Poe gave an inward chuckle. She would go insane? As if she already wasn't, otherwise, how would she have ended up in this shithole. It was days like this when she almost wished she could go back to that son of a bitch she used to be married to. At least he was never quiet, always yelling at her to bring him a beer, make something edible for dinner, or lie down and let him have his way with her. Then Poe remembered what happened at the end, and she shuddered. Not again.

Stay here, Lucy.. We can have some fun together. You know you wan-
"No!" The shout was pout loud, and walking down the stairwell, she drew the gaze of some other nutcases going the opposite way. They didn't look long, it wasn't an unusual occurance for someone to shout at themselves in this place. Only slightly embarresed, she mutter a quick, "hi," to those passing, and continued on her way. On her way to? One of the loudest places in the complex- a room where she hated the smells and the sight of other people gulping down their empty calories.. It disgusted her.

Anyways, it was the sound that she came for. The laughter, the shouting, the general sound of chattering. From halfway down the hall she could her the murmuring that would save her from the other voice, or as she liked to think, "The other Lucy." In the cafeteria, even when the other Lucy made suggestions, Poe could hardly even hear them. It was like her little patch of heaven in hell. Silently, plastering on her fake smile, she slipped into the eatery.

The chatter washed over her like a cleansing wave, clearing out any other thoughts. Now, to make it perfect, to distract her attention completely, she needed someone to talk to. Scanning the tables, she noticed the same things she always did. Tight little groups of people like cliques in middle school, gulping down their gruel. A few people sat alone, but only one of them seemed approachable. A shy looking boy, shadowed by a tall, burly guard. Trying to make herself as normal-looking as possible, she strolled over and stood over him a moment before saying anything.

He was cute, she decided. But she wasn't in the mood for any relationships in this joint.. Not after what landed her here. But, that didn't mean she couldn't make friends, right?

"Can I sit here?" She asked finally.

[.xander;;]

.they stared at each other for a moment before words poured out of her mouth. she waited, he presumed, for him to answer. he could have laughed; she would be waiting a very long time.

okay, he would have said, but he had lost the will to talk. talking caused bonding. the only people he dared bond with in here were his guards, who, in turn, were actually quite nice to him. there was a mutual trust between the three of them and they could be considered close despite that they knew what they would do their jobs if necessary. however, xander knew that if one of them was to hurt him, it would be in his own best interest; they didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already did.

xander stared blankly at the young woman in front of him for a moment more before dropping his head back to its usual hanging position. self-consciously he grabbed one uneven side of his open jacket and pulled it up so that it aligned with the other side. obviously, he was slightly antsy around girls. aww, isn’t that cute. mink really likes helping verbs, have you noticed? lol.

to further his nervous display, one hand, the right to be precise, rose from beneath the table, grabbed a plastic fork from within a too-long sleeve, and began to knead those delectable potatoes. occasionally, he glanced up at the girl for a few seconds at a time. his mother had probably never taught him that staring was rude. still, in the span of a minute or so he was able to note everything about this girl’s face, like he did everyone who approached him, and occasionally some who didn’t. she was about his age, he speculated, but she looked like a teenager just like everyone else in this goddamn hellhole. why the staff would let anyone keep piercings in, especially on one’s face, was beyond him. he didn’t necessarily have a problem with it. actually, he was probably more comfortable in an environment like one he had grown up in, but at the same time, he was edgy. it was also the environment he had screwed up in. he didn’t need any more of that, not when he had worked so hard to get where he was now.

as if his muteness wasn’t enough, the monster behind and slightly to the right of him said nothing either. his hard eyes observed the woman in a way much more scrutinizing than xander’s, assessing the threat she posed to his guardee. like all the patients, she was required to have her id in plain view, and once he spotted it, stan noted that she was moderate-risk. nothing too serious for now, but he knew the claw-like marks that scarred her face might set xander on edge;;

[-poe]

Despite the chatter bubbling up around her, Poe was disappointed to find non of it coming from the boy in front of her. Though he quite clearly had acknowledged her presence, he said nothing. Of course, she thought to herself, the one person I choose to approach either won't talk, or simply can't. Neither would surprise her in this place. After all, how could it? She lived next to chronic masturbators and carjackers, people that disgusted her, though she really had no right to criticize. Suddenly, standing in front of this silent nut case, the rest of the cafeteria seemed quieter, too. As she stared down at him, a voice came from the back of her mind, like a childhood memory you just can't see quite clearly. Oooh, Lucy! Isn't he pretty? it whispered, though Poe had to strain to make out the words in this loud room. We could have fun with him, you and I! Just like we had just with Alex!

Noting his occasional glances at her, Poe nervously touched the scars under her left eye. Is that what he was looking at, she wondered? Biting her lip, she tried to continue her smile at him. But she.. it just wouldn't shut up. You remember how fun it was, Lucy, oh and the blood tasted so sweet! Trying to ignore it once more, she considered why she told people to call her Poe. It always called her Lucy. Just invite him up to the dorm, Lucy! I'm sure you can think of a way to get the guard out of there..

Not wanting to listen anymore, Poe suddenly plopped herself down on the seat in front of the other patient- at least, she suspected he was. The criminals were always boasting about something or other, never shutting up. This one was quite the opposite, just when she needed someone who could talk endlessly. "So!" She exclaimed, probably a little too loudly, "Who's your friend?" Poe inclined her head toward the 6' shadow standing near them. Obviously she could tell it was the guy's guard, but at that moment of desperation, it was the only conversation starter she could think of.

Inside, however, she wondered why she wanted to start a conversation with this one anyways. The small, nagging voice was trying to push it's way to the front of her mind again, and Poe understood. She had to win this round by having a nice, normal conversation, without letting the voice take control of her. Poe shuddered to think what it might do to this innocent-looking guy. Something involving a lot of blood, she figured. Turning her head slightly to one side, Poe hoped he would answer this. Or maybe even his guard would. Anything, she thought, to take my mind off of her.. Off of it.

[.xander;;]

.as if even standing in his presence for so long wasn’t enough, this chick actually sat down with him. now the boy--well, man, but he felt like a boy in this place--locked his eyes onto this strangely friendly poe. his mind tried to ascertain just what would possess her to approach him in the first place. eventually it came to the conclusion that he probably didn’t look much different than he had only a few years ago--just your average shy guy sitting alone at lunch, waiting for that one person nice enough to reach out to him…or to use him for their own entertainment for just one day. well, regardless, it was another human being in front of him. he wasn’t quite happy enough to smile, but he would gladly wag his--

you don’t have a tail, he thought sickeningly. not right now, anyway… his face scrunched up in disgust before he realized he was still staring at the woman in front of him. he cursed himself and eased his muscles, pulling a frown up into at least a flat line. maybe if she stayed just a little longer, it would earn her a smile. not that anyone cared about receiving any sense of recognition from xander, from within whose seemingly timid eyes you could find a hungry monster staring back at you. he didn’t necessarily mean to look like that; he didn’t even want the wolf. he hoped this one person acknowledging his existence in a semi-positive manner didn’t glimpse the beast spying on her. hell, he didn’t even know how it could watch people when he didn’t even look at them with a straight face. it was an extremely rare occasion that he lifted his head and looked someone in the eye. being partly wolf had made that action, to him, a sign of challenge. trouble was the last thing he wanted.

“xander won’t talk to you,” stan said gruffly as he eyed the girl’s id, “lucy.” his tone was matter-of-fact, as if he assumed she hadn’t gathered that much by herself at this point. furthering this statement, the lycanthrope lowered his eyes back to his now-demolished-but-still-uneaten food. his fork had never stopped doing its job throughout this entire ordeal, and he was kind of glad that the food looked like what it smelled, tasted, etcetera like--puke. maybe they would stop serving it now. then he thought that it might be a good thing he never talked. people might think he was more stupid than they already did; sometimes he couldn’t follow his own train of thought…but maybe that was only because he never talked;;

[-poe]

What was this, a staring contest? Not one who was ever able to read much from peoples eyes, Poe gained nothing from staring at Xander's. For a long while, blue eyes just started into bluegreens, and vaguely she wondered how much he could read in hers. When he had been courting her, Alex had always said she had such pretty, emotional eyes.. Had that just been bullshit to rope her into the relationship, or even just into bed? Unable to think about it, she just looked away when an answer came- but not from the man in front of her. It came from the body guard, and Poe looked at him curiously. She was about to ask something else when he added the, "Lucy," part.

Although she knew it wouldn't matter to the bodyguard whether she preferred to be called something else, Poe could at least set Xander straight. At least he would know, if not call her by it. She turned back to him, "I like to be called Poe." She stated, trying to keep her voice normal. But as long as it called her Lucy, she would make sure not very many others did. "I guess," She added thoughtfully, "It's because I like ravens so much. All birds, actually..." It wasn't apparent who she was talking to now- herself, or Xander.

With a slight sigh, she rested her elbows on the table- Poe had never been one for manners -and put her chin in her hands. Now she was looking past Xander, at nothing in particular. "They sing such pretty songs, you know?" She paused and gave a shudder. "Not like wolves. Their songs are like cries of death in the night.." Of course, how could she know who she was talking to in particular? Why Xander was here, and how that might offend him. She knew nothing of the sort, and so went of rambling without a second thought. "Anyways, I could look at your ID, but I kind of find it intrusive. So, what's your name?" Poe concluded at last.

Just as she hated people calling her Lucy, she knew that others might not like what their ID cards said. Besides, in here you weren't just John Smith. Nearly everyone had some sort of nickname, and Poe liked to oblige. Also, she asked her question directly at the young man, starting to like the challenge of getting him to talk. And while she was rambling away at him, the other Lucy hadn't bothered her at all. Her voice in reality drowned at Lucy's in her head, and for that she was grateful. But how much easier it would be if Poe could just what whatever-his-name-was to talk back to her.

[.xander;;]

.maybe she was here for her own benefit, and maybe she wasn’t. “poe” didn’t seem very aware that there was a person in front of her once she started talking. he didn’t have a problem with it, of course. actually, he found it kind of entertaining. most of the loons in this joint ranted about nothing to their buddies or to the voices in their heads, but this one ranted about nothing to the general vicinity, not talking to anyone in particular. but just talking. it was quite the opposite of his approach to the subject, and he almost liked that. in fact, a smile did indeed begin to pull at the corners of his mouth; that is, before her comment about the howls of wolves. the frown returned and his face became solemn. his eyes trailed from the food to a blank spot on the table and his hand, without the fork, disappeared beneath the table once more where it began to fidget against the cold underside. the comment didn’t necessarily offend him. in fact, he agreed completely, but he was still ashamed of it. after all, who wouldn’t be humiliated when compared to death? and when that comparison was accurate...

although he would admit she was a bit aloof, xander also found that she wasn’t afraid to acknowledge him. she spoke directly to him, not to the man who occasionally spoke for him, even though stan had already referred to him by his name. the shadow of a smile returned and he removed his id from its clip on the front of his jacket pocket. with the same hand he grasped that in, again, the right hand, he shoved the tray aside and laid the tag on the table where poe could read it. below his image read the name xander, caleb v. and one finger poked out from within the long sleeve at the first word. he could have simply turned around and shown her the embroidery on the back of his jacket, but his id held another point of interest. in the bottom corner, which he later pointed to, was a stamp that signified he was permitted to borrow books from the north sector’s library [even though he was not allowed to physically go to it; stan or dan were kind enough to run back and forth there for him]. the woman’s reference had just clicked in his mind and he hoped she would gather from his actions and his now full smile that he enjoyed poe’s writings. it was actually rather enthralling for him, as most lunatics are more interested in mindlessness than literature;;

[-poe]

Glancing down, Poe peered thoughtfully at the ID card offered to her. He had pointed to Xander in particular, which was clear that's what he intended to be called. Nodding, she figured that, if he talked, he would grant her the courtesy of calling her Poe, and thus, she would call him Xander. Then, as he pointed to the stamp that showed his ability to borrow books, she broke out in a rare grin, as opposed to her usual plain, friendly, smile. "A reader, eh? I guess I should have expected it from someone like you." Later she would consider what an odd thing that had been to say, when she knew little to nothing about Xander. Looking up from his ID card at last she added, " 'Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore,' ' eh?"

She figured, if he had pointed out the stamp so specifically, it was supposed to mean something- and what else could it mean than what he knew of her literary interests, or what he might suspect, as Edgar Allen Poe. In fact, Poe was fascinated at how quickly she was beginning to understand, and somehow have a conversation with, a mute. For a few long moments, she didn't say anything- just gazed at his face, scrutinizing him and trying to find out what she could from his mug. Having no success, she sighed. "I wonder what you're in for, Xander? That does seem to be the standard question around here.. And though I'm not to good at reading people, I can't seem to find much strange about you." She shrugged, and then chuckled a bit. "I mean, besides the whole not talking thing." At this, Poe hoped for some kind of answer, though she hadn't asked him a direct question. A shrug, a sly smile- something. Anything.

She didn't expect his large and daunting shadow to answer, either. What someone was 'in for' wasn't exactly public property, and wouldn't only be told by the patient or inmate themselves, or so she suspected. With a resigned sigh, the looked down at his food. It looked eaten, but she hadn't seen him take a bite. He just played with it- much the same thing Poe would have done. Really, if you're trying to get an anorexic to eat, you ought to at least make it good food, not the garbage they served here. But even as she thought about it, a sharp hunger pain jabbed her stomach. No, no, Lucy. You've got to look pretty. No food for you. The voice in the back of her mind suggested. Poe grimaced, but didn't say anything back in her mind. They would come to remind her to eat later, no matter what the other Lucy told her to do. Poe longed for the days that, when she did eat, it was at least something good. A slice of pizza, a can of coke.. But, suddenly bitter, she reminder herself that she was stuck in a prison slash asylum, eating gruel, talking to mutes.

[.xander;;]

.what’re you in for? it was like the catchphrase around here. and its children, the understatements of the century, were i have thirty-two personalities, i have trouble stopping myself from breaking people’s necks, and my son is the future leader of mankind whose father is dead but not born yet and came back from the future to warn me about the killer cyborgs that are going to destroy us all. all in all, none of the other ones had anything on xander. his excuse was i’m in for nothing. the rest of them, unlike him, were completely insane. suddenly, turning into a wolf when you’re crazy mad or crazy hungry makes you…crazy? okay, he could understand the killing part, but wouldn’t that have landed him in the prison, not the madhouse?

out of good humor, he took a pad of sticky notes and a pen from his pocket when he put his id back and wrote i’m crazy, of course. on the top note before showing it to poe. his coy smile made it almost impossible to tell whether he really meant that or not. as she read it, he looked at her expectantly, asking her the same question. of course it was a hackneyed inquiry, but he would definitely admit that was only because curiosity was a very powerful thing. from all he observed, this looked like a perfectly ordinary anorexic, insomnia-ridden girl. he shrugged. when he thought about it, no one in this place was what they looked;;

[-poe]

As he passed her the note, Poe felt like a schoolgirl again, sending paper airplanes flying across the room while the teacher had her back turned. As she gazed down at it, she half expected the note to say, "I like you. Do you like me?" and the little yes or no check boxes underneath. But what she saw instead made her smile grimly- whether it was the truth or not. The young woman turned her face up to him with the same darkly amused expression. "Aren't we all, Xander?" As a habit, Poe had stopped wondering what she must look like to other people. Did it really matter in the long run? Did anything that happened in this joint matter- in the long run?

It took Poe a moment to recognize the inquiring look on her new... could she say friend's? face. He was directing the question back at her, and though at one time she would have been embarrassed about it, she knew now that she was hardly a minority. "Oh," She began quietly, "I guess sometimes I just can't stop myself from doing what the voice tells me." And she shrugged. Some people didn't like talking to schizos once they knew, but Poe didn't suppose Xander was like that. After all, what right did he- or anyone else here, for that matter -have to judge her? The thought made her grim smile return. In a house of nutcases- or more correctly -a quack shack, it was like a novel written my some desperate author. 'They're crazy,' it would say, 'But they have feelings, too. Watch them interact!'

And suddenly Poe had an idea. The whole place was like a zoo, with ignorant people come to stare through the cages at Poe, the raven. And Xander- what might he be? Poe considered carefully before deciding on a sheep dog. And the various other snakes, pigs, and cows that lived behind the steel bars. Only a dollar a ticket, they would call out at the streets. At the silliness of her own idea, Poe chuckled, and immediately stopped. Now he had probably thought she was talking to the voice. Poe gave another inward shrug. What did it matter? He wouldn't be able to tell when she was talking to her anyways.