It was a prision, a living hell. Carson couldn't express just how much he hated that doomed place. It was so dark, so dead, so... insane. Quite like him, to be honest. There was no reason he shouldn't feel like home in there, it was made specifically for people like him, not just crazy, but... [i]weird[/i]. You know... out of the average, not like any insane people would be 'average' or 'normal', but they all were just [i]beyond [/i]that. Carson could tell that, he knew something was off with that place the moment he put a foot out of the car that had brought him there. Of course his mother wouldn't want to see him anymore, nor would she be allowed to, as he was so dangerous and apparently damaged. 
[color=8dc73f][i]Bullshit[/i][/color], he thought bitterly, staring blankly at the wall before him. He had been sitting there, in the middle of the hallway, his back leant against the cold wall just seeing the time passing before his eyes. Really, he was just bored, and hell of tired. His body ached from moving relentlessly in bed all night, his eyes were a little dry and hurt, and his brain was just bouncing inside his skull. Tilting his head a tad to the side, and ignoring the dull pain in his neck, he watched as the wall before him slowly tinted a bright red. "[color=8dc73f]Maybe some color would make this shitty pit look a little nicer.[/color]", he huffed to himself, sardonically. "[color=8dc73f]Can you believe it? I don't think you'd like it here either.[/color]"
A soft piano melody could be heard on the background, playing slowly and instead of that nerve-racking tik tok.



Jim had woken up early as every morning. Clad in his typical nurse uniform, as tidy as ever, the Irish man wandered about the building as he tended some of the patients and checked on them. Greeting everyone he ran into with a gentle "Good morning", he made his way through the hallways, up and down the many stairs, just going on with his routine check of every day. It wasn't unusual to hear the screams and cries and laughter and sobs from the patients in there, echoing through the walls like some spectral cacophony. He was used to it, and it rarely got under his skin or made him shudder as many other co-workers would.
"[color=00aeef]Well, hello there, dearie. Don't seem to be having enough attention there, now do ya?[/color]", he smiled at a flower by a window, seeming to be withering there in its little pot. He was one to make sure there were flowerpots and plants placed around the place, anywhere near a window, to try and make the asylum look a little more... vivid? Well, plants were good at shaking off the bad vibes, so that was his hope. Of course, by asking for such a thing, he had to take care not only of the patients, but the plants inside too. Not like he would complain, he actually enjoyed doing so. 
With a single touch of his finger, caressing delicately a petal of the flower, it straightened up and bloomed fresh and colorful as ever, a sweet perfume dancing in the air around her. His smile widened and he resumed his way down the hall, checking on some more rooms.

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[color=8dc73f]Green [/color]--> Used for Carson's thoughts (in [i]italics[/i]) and speech (between "quotation marks").
[color=00aeef]Blue [/color]--> Used for Jim's thoughts and speech (same format for each as aforementioned).