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2 yrs ago
Current It adds a welcoming touch to the bedroom (for you and your roommate) whenever you enter or leave from/to the common area.
2 yrs ago
What I like to do is start off w/ flattening one of the brown paper bags & make a doormat for the psyche ward bedroom. I color & tape it to the ground by the room exit/entrance.
2 yrs ago
Items Needed: Crayons, Blank Paper, Brown Paper Bag, and Tape (Special Note: Ask the Charge Nurse politely for x-number of pre-torn tape pieces)
1 like
2 yrs ago
Check Out Briza's New Pinterest Board! Decorating Your Psyche Ward Room 101
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Bio

gin a body catch a body
comin thro' the rye,
gin a body catch a body,
need a body cry?


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How is everyone this week?


Snotty and full of business school. (๑꒦ິ ̼ ꒦ິ๑)
The unfortunate part about being a priest, is the vow to never hurt anyone--not even in self defense. Father Seraphim had been at a position to tackle the man grabbing her, but resisted the temptation. Aleksandr watched as this happened--the struggle in his father's body language was very evident the man was tired of struggling for a day. Aleksandr had been treating his father poorly since the move. It was at the moment, he could see the wear on his father's emotional state. It'd been a rough several years for them. Aleksandr had been no help. He shook off the pity and made a run for the two people kidnapping Sylv.

Aleksandr was about 5'11." He wasn't a body builder, but he was strong--and could take punches if necessary. He was not sure why these people were trying to kidnap or rather kill Sylv. They were clearly lunatics that didn't have much common sense--not that Aleksandr put much faith in the human race. There really was not any reason he should put any hope in Sylv and her family.

A police officer stepped out of the way and stood in front of the Sylv's mother and step-father. He was a rather large man, and with that he conked the head of the man holding Sylv. Aleksandr caught up to them just as another policeman came in front of the door as back up. @Arista
Aleksandr clenched his fists as Sylv began speaking in what appeared to be some manic-depressant trance. Ah, the truth... His blue eyes studied Sylv's grave expression. His eyes darted to his father, who was thumbing through his prayer rope faster than ever. His eyes landed back on Sylv as she spoke in a monotone voice.

"Lord have mercy," Father Seraphim half-whispered.

Aleksandr looked at his father, unclenching his fists. A small breath escaped his lips as he concentrated on the situation. He was no sympathetic fool. His father and he had seen families go through a great deal of pain due to drugs--especially growing up in the rural parts of the country. Meth was a big one--he had seen it tear through the very heart of their parish at one point.

Father Seraphim looked worried, "Sylvia," he gracefully interjected through Aleksandr's thoughts, "Has this happened to you before?" He was most curious and ready to take action. Aleksandr didn't move as his father talked, he was stiff, again, holding his breath. His father was officially in priest-mode. It wasn't that his father ever wasn't not a priest; it was just sometimes, his pious nature took full control and the second nature was no where to be seen. His father normally felt like a stranger when this did happen. The feeling always made Aleksandr uncomfortable--as if he lacked the ability to share his own father with other people.

"Aleksy. I'm home!" his father opened the front door. He turned the lights turned on and called out again, “Aleksy! I’m home!”

The faint voice of Aleksandr was heard, “Dad…” He sounded sick.

“Aleksy? Where—“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his son. Aleksandr was huddled in the corner of the living room. His clothes were spread on the ground and his fingers were digging into his bare skin. Father Seraphim closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, “Aleksy, what’s wrong?”

“The lights…” his voice was quivering, "They won't stop..." He was rocking back and forth, steadily.

Father Seraphim dropped his black brief case. It crashed with a thud onto the carpet. He knelt down by his son, looking into his son’s face, “Do I need to call an ambulance?” He had a suspicion of what was happening but first things first.

“Dad, I’m…” he paused. His lips were dry and his breaths were quick, “I am so fucked... up... right... now,” he stuttered.


Father Seraphim closed his eyes for brief moment as he remembered his very own Aleksy dealing with drugs. It was still a fear in the back of his mind—for good reason, too. One of the last things he wanted was for his son to turn into a parent like Sylvia's mother. He would be having another anti-drug talk with Aleksandr post this evening in regards to such an event. @Arista
Father Seraphim nodded his head as Nurse Gina spoke, "We were on our way to Church when I saw her...She was stumbling in the middle of the street. She's very blessed that we did not hit her with the car. The rain is just horrible outside," Father Seraphim drew in a deep breath, "Thank God, she has such wonderful nurses to look after her," he spoke gracefully to the nurse as his thumb rubbed against the black wool rope in his hand. He was praying in his mind as he spoke aloud, "Is there anyway we can get ahold of her parents?" It was clear the priest had no idea who injected her or what her relationship with her family was.

Aleksandr unfolded his arms as he watched Sylv stare at the blood seeping through her bandage. He could smell the sweet nectar. It smelled sickly, and yet it still made him salivate. He hadn't been hungry for a while now, but something changed once the nurse had pierced Sylv's skin. He looked away from Sylv and concentrated on Nurse Gina. Something wasn't right. She was supposed to be at work this evening. If she was at work, then why was she in the middle of the streets. The phone call she received also seemed to be a bit odd--did it have anything to do with her lack of being at work?

He re-folded his arms. His puppy dog eyes looked more solemn and tired now. He glanced at his father; he looked exceptionally tired. He had just spent his whole day in Caligo Hospital because of the man who past away from a heart attack, and now he was spending his evening in the Emergency Room. It did not really bother the priest. He had other things that worried him more. However, he was very concerned about the young lady. He and Aleksandr were not about to leave her unless she was fine. She was their responsibility, now. @Arista
With puppy dog eyes Aleksandr stood near the wall. Behind his facade of a mask, he was still rather stoic towards Sylv Wyeth. He just simply knew how to play the pretend game--a wolf in sheep's clothing--He wasn't particularly nosy, as he did not like people delving into his own personal matters. His eyes widened, taking in every detail of the process. He wasn't familiar with hospitals. The only time he had ever been was when his mother had been rushed to the hospital when he was roughly about eight years of age. She had already been pronounced dead, but protocol was protocol.

He folded his arms, feeling a wave of impatience flush over his body. She was definitely going to be fine. Whatever had happened to her was odd and peculiar. He was slightly interested in this occurrence, but he was no curious cat. No, not in the least.

Father Seraphim came jogging in, his cassock swaying a bit. He had her purse. Her name is "Sylvia Wyeth!" His breath was a bit out from the rush. He was a bit embarrassed to had gone through a lady's purse and dig through her wallet. But emergency was emergency.

"She's conscious, Dad," Aleksandr made the attempt to catch his father up to date on the situation. He glanced at his father's prayer rope. He has accidentally left his at home. He generally made the effort to bring his to Church--mostly for show, but this evening, it appeared he had forgotten.

"Thank God. I thought we might have lost her..." Father Seraphim was very concerned about Sylv. He looked at his son, pondering if he should bring up the fact that Aleksandr knew the young lady. Aleksandr was not one to make friends quickly, especially with females. Sometimes, he thought Aleksandr to be homosexual. In his personal opinion, he did not find Aleksandr to be an unattractive young man--although gravely troubled into stupidity at times. However, when he looked at his son, he always saw Theodora--and that was his greatest weakness when raising Aleksandr. Such bias would often occur.

"I think she is going to be fine..." Aleksandr trailed off the way his father had. He glanced at his father, arms still folded. He tapped his foot gently and let out a small breath he had been holding since his father entered the room. He had been slightly embarrassed by his father's entrance. Albeit, he really had no reason to be--something he told himself on the often.

Nurse Ada was attending other patients. She was making her rounds and stopped to check on Sylvia. "Oh good, Nurse Gina's one of the best!" She scurried off to attend a monaing man having a PCP trip. He had brought himself to the hospital claiming vampires were trying to kill him. Nurse Ada shook her head. "Such nonsense people believe some times," she spoke under her breath. @Arista
She appeared to be having some sort of a seizure. Aleksandr rested his head on the back of his chair. For once, he was not the one causing the pain. If anything, his father and he were sort of heroes. He frowned. His father and he were nothing of the sort. Not even close.

Aleksandr glanced at his father. His father was concentrating on the road as the windshield wipers swished back-and-forth. He was probably repeating the Jesus Prayer in his mind. Aleksandr had long trashed that mantra in his later teen years; it only gave him anxiety. There is no Church in the Wild. He turned away from his father and looked out the window of the car. The lights seemed so bright outside, like their eyes before he killed them.

He was tearing into the heart of the poor boy was was sent to take out the trash. His body was disgusting and mutilated, now. His massive paws were sinking into the boy's guts, ripping at his throat and fingering up his esophagus until his claw protruded from the boys choked mouth. The boy's last breath made no sound. His large jaw opened and caged the child's head in his teeth, crushing the skull into blood and dust. He ripped the muscle of the neck from the shoulders and began salivating and chewing. He could hear himself breathing heavily. However, he was interrupted by the sweet scent of unpolluted flowers. His breathing silenced at once.

"Look, Mommy! A doggy! Can I pet her?"


No wonder he was never hungry...

The gray Toyota pulled in front of the Emergency Room Entrance to the Caligo Hospital. The two men looked at each other--a mutual agreement was made between them as they made eye contact. Father Seraphim turned the car off and pulled the keys out of the ignition. They both removed themselves from the car and began carrying Sylv inside the hospital. She had absolutely no control over her body, a sensation Aleksandr could truly relate to. As the sliding glass doors of the hospital opened, the cool air conditioning gave a dry burst of breath on the three.

"Someone, anyone," Father Seraphim spoke loudly, "This girl needs immediate attention!"

It was quite obvious waiting in a line would do the poor woman no good. Two nurses came with a wheeling bed. The four of them together strapped her in the bed and she was wheeled off into an emergency room, "I'm Nurse Ada," a tall black nurse that was pushed the bed said, "What's her name?" She spoke as if Sylv was part of their family.

"Her name is... Sylvia W--," Aleksandr realized he had forgotten her last name. He used to be good with names when he had been a social human being. There was something about the age of contemplation he would never shake, "I don't know her last name. I'm sorry."

Nurse Ada was silent as the bed turned a corner. The room she pulled Sylvia into was full of different patients lying on beds. Each patient had a curtain on either side, providing a little privacy, "Check her I.D. Does she have a purse on her?"

Both men shook their head. Father Seraphim had his black, wool prayer rope out, "It might be in the car. Aleksy, you stay here. I'll go... find it," he said curiously after realizing Aleksandr had relations to the woman.

Lucy


"Why haven't they reported the boy's death?" Lucy spoke quietly but harshly. She ran a hand through her short, wavy hair, "Of course. They can't not be related..." Lucy's hazel eyes narrowed. She scoffed, making a small hissing sigh as she bled out the words, "Good bye," through her teeth. She put her smartphone down and let out a breath from her lips. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them. The poor boy's family. What must they be thinking? The murders all happened on the same block. She rested her forehead on her knees. There was something so disgusting about this situation.

Lucy thought they had the werewolf packs in the city running scared. [i[What did this murder mean? Were they protesting? Or was there something else...[/i] She lifted her forehead and now rested her chin on her knees, glancing out the curtains in her bedroom. The next full moon was September 16th, a Harvest Moon. The last Full Moon was a Sturgeon Moon, "Hummm..." Lucy said aloud to the quiet room. The sound of her ceiling fan spinning around made the only reply to her.

There was roughly two weeks to gather as much information as possible.

Lucy undid herself, letting her limbs crupled away from her body as she propped herself from her bed. She was wearing a black lace bra and black lace panties. There was something about being strictly a werewolf hunter that left her half naked majority of the time. Doing research with clothes was such a bore. However, this was a seemingly serious situation. She made actually need pants and a shirt for the field research she about to conduct. A small smirk was drawn on her lips as she walked over to her apartmet closet. @Arista

Father Seraphim slammed on the breaks of the Toyota. He turned the steering wheel as to keep from hitting the poor human lurching in the middle of the road. Aleksandr felt the seatbelt squeeze against his lean body. His eyes shot open when he saw the headlights flash it's beams onto the face of the near victim.

It was a late reaction from Aleksandr, "Dad! Stop the car!" He yelled at his father, who was already stopping the car. The car slid and barely missed the poor woman stumbling in the middle of the road. Aleksandr quickly unbuckled himself and rushed out of the car.

"Aleksy!" His dad called after him, wanting to be the first out of car in case of a car hitting Aleksandr.

Aleksandr could feel the cold rain drops pressing against his skin. Fortunately, he had his jacket. Yes, his jacket! He quickly took his jacket off and wrapped it around Sylv. He pulled her into the back of the car. Father Seraphim was standing in the rain, now, too. Something made him happy to see his son actually care for another human being aside from himself.

Father Seraphim hopped back in the car roughly around the same time as Aleksandr did.

"She's not responding," Aleksandr said calmly to his father.

"I'll drive her to the hospital. Call Deacon Constantine. Tell him we will not be making it to Vespers to tonight," he handed his flip cellphone to Aleksandr and began turned the car back on, driving towards the city hospital.

Aleksandr ticked through the phone until he found Deacon Constantine's phone number. He dialed the number and waited for the Deacon to pick up the phone.

"Thank God we left early. This poor girl," Father Seraphim spoke softly as he turned the car around a corner. The hospital was about ten minutes away.

"Hello, yes. I am well. Is this Deacon Constantine? Oh, yes, hello. This is Reader Aleksandr. Father Seraphim and I have an emergency situation and will not be able to make it to Vespers, tonight. Yes, yes. No, we are fine. Okay, just have a Reader's service. Yes, no. I will not be there. Ask Edgar. Thank you. We'll keep you in our prayers, as well. Thank you. Bye. God bless," Aleksandr hung up the cellphone.

"Did Deacon Constantine say it would be fine?"

"Yes," Aleksandr nodded as he spoke. He turned to look at Sylv. This wasn't s coincidence. He didn't believe in coincidences. He looked back through the front window and watched as the buildings went by them. @Arista
"I am at war with the world, Dad. I am living in a perpetual nightmare. There is a shadow within me, a monster caged in my soul. I have a gluttonous habit that cannot be contained. This dark paradise is some passion that I simply cannot resist. I am addicted to it; I am serving two masters and yet... Only but one of them allows me to fill this insatiable appetite." Aleksandr monologued as he laid face up in his bed, on top of his bed sheet. His eyes were staring intently at his ceiling as he spoke.

"Are you trying to tell me we need to make a visit to the monastery for Confession, Aleksy? We won't be able to go until next week. I have a funeral I must serve in this weekend..."

"No, I'm just... tired."

"Are you going to be able to read tonight at Church?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Aleksy," Father Seraphim said sternly.

"I mean, I am being paid to chant at these services. It's expected of me," he dismissed his father's impatience. His father generally became impatient with him when things pertained to his salvation. It was one of his father's habitual sins, to lose patience while he worries over his son's salvation.

"Church is in thirty minutes. You know it runs better when we are early," Father Seraphim had already cooled off. The rain started howling outside. It was clear the drive to Church would be difficult. Thankfully, they lived close to the Church. Father Seraphim looked out the window of Aleksandr's bedroom, "I feel sorry for anyone caught in the rain..."

Aleksandr sat up, "I finished reading Lolita."

Father Seraphim's eyes narrowed painfully. His right hand touches his temples trying not to bother with what Aleksandr had just dropped on him, "Aleksy, I told you I did not want you to read such Russian garbage. But--" he huffed a bit, "Nevermind. We need to get in the car. Grab your coat," he turned around and walked towards the front door.

Aleksandr sprang out of his bed and grabbed his coat hanging on one of his small, wooden bed posts. He put his gray coat on and turned the lights in his bedroom off. His father was already in the car (with the umbrella) when Aleksandr got to his Converse shoes. He opened the front door and shut it, digging the keys out of his pocket and locking the door behind him. He jogged to the Toyota.

He opened the car door and slid himself into the front seat. Father Seraphim backed the car out of the drive way, turned the car, and drove it down the road outside the neighborhood and towards the inner part of the city. @Arista
As the rain pattered on the rooftop of their humble abode, Father Seraphim opened the front door to the house, letting himself inside the rattling building. His gray and white umbrella folded as he entered, "Aleksy, I'm home!" He called out, his voice was a bit gravely but something hopeful resonated through the stark tone. He placed his umbrella by the doorway. It dripped longingly onto the white marbled doorway. There were chips in the marble flooring from the previous owners.

He removed his black shoes by the doorway and placed them next to the umbrella. Aleksandr's shoes were also by the doorway. We really should get a shoe rack. He drew in a dry, deep breath, not hearing an accommodating response from Aleksandr, "I'm home!" He called out, again. The house was small and even the opening of the door sounded throughout the household. On a priest's income, he really didn't have much to spare, and now that Aleksandr was attending college, the funds were even tighter. He preferred it this way--less greed was involved.

Today had been particularly stressful for him. A parish family had lost their head of the household this afternoon. The man had a heart attack and was pushed into a coma. His body had swollen three times his size, and the family as a whole decided to pull the plug. It was fairly obvious he was brain dead, albeit, his heart was still beating. In such an instance, he hoped Aleksandr would not pull the plug, get blood on his hands...

He walked into the kitchen. There was no food cooking. He frowned; maybe Aleksandr was studying and forgot to start dinner. He wished to hope that his son was not purely being lazy, which often times was the case. He knew Aleksandr was a troubled, young adult--but to neglect eating was just unhealthy.

Father Seraphim made his way into Aleksandr's bedroom. He knocked on the door and without waiting for permission, he creaked the door open, "Aleksy--" his Russian accent was stronger than normal.

"Don't come in."

He paused and continued opening the door, "I am home."

"I didn't answer for a reason."

"Aleksy, if you had just acknowledged me the first time, I would not have--" Father Seraphim dropped his shoulders disappointedly, "What do you want, Aleksandr?" His head tilted slightly, tiredly. Aleksandr knew how to get under his skin. He did it far too often. @Arista
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