chasing midnight

''CHARACTER SELECTION'' [[Regis->RegisStart]] ~~Alanna~~ ~~Craig~~ ~~Caroline~~

The [[facility]] is always cold. You stir in your ratty blankets, curling up a bit on your side. Your eyes are still closed- unwilling to wake up. You've never been an early riser, even after all this time in such a terrible place. If you don't wake up early, sometimes they don't slip you breakfast, or you miss shower time. [[Wake up.]] [[Sleep a little longer.]]

Alright, enough lazing around. You stretch- groaning at the unpleasant cold that comes from your lanky arms escaping their blanket cocoon- before you slowly open your eyes, taking in [[the space]]. Thankfully, you're up just in time to hear a trolley rolling outside the door. You're hungry- always hungry at this age, you find- scratching the silly looking peach fuzz at your chin. It's itchy. You sort of hope that means it's growing in- you'd like to have an impressive beard someday. But enough of that. The trolley stops right in front of the door- and a rough voice barks outside. "Breakfast?" [["Y'h, please."]] [["Nah. 'm not feelin' hungry."]]

Sleep just sounds so good right now. It's cold, but you've been here long enough to be used to it- curling up and making sure your feet are still covered by the blanket. Rest comes easily- you close your eyes, conked out before you even realize it. [[But at what cost?]] (set: $stink to true) (set: $hunger to true)

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/e3973083d/large_4.jpg" width="500" height="500"> You've been at this institute- the Rehabilitation Institute- for years. Five years, specifically. It's become something of a cage as you've grown up- those preteen years mean everything, after all. And you've spent them all rotting in here. What luck. Better than being a [[Burgundy]], though.

//Reginald Burgundy.// Jesus, they couldn't have picked out a less stupid sounding name? It's why you go by Regis- less hassle, less embarrassment. Reginald just sounds like some frumpled, old, king name. [[But anyway...->RegisStart]]

//You're in a plain. It looks endless- and ''green'', a color you haven't really seen in years on end. There are flowers intersparsed- the whole place looks like it bled out from a picture book. It's calm, relaxing, here. There's nothing to do- but in an entirely fulfilling way of its own. The sky is a bright blue- [[pure blue]], with white fluffy clouds floating idly by. And you hear laughter. It carries like church bells on the wind, a sound you've never heard before but it doesn't matter. It's here, it's real. That laughter makes you feel like you're finally free.// [[It's time to wake up.]]

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/4p39j7rw9/Padded_Room_Background.jpg" width="500" height="500"> The walls are padded- obviously. Everything is an aggravating shade of white, or maybe light grey now from the time you've spent here, and it's all barren. You only really keep clothes and necessities here- and with rare visits from [[Hal]], a few things from back home. [[But enough about that...->Wake up.]]

"Y'h, please." You respond, stumbling out of bed to the door. There's a little compartment, there, shut tight with bolt and iron- where they slide the plates in once they unlock it. It's always shitty food, but better than nothing, you reckon. A hot bowl of instant oatmeal, made with water, slips through the hatch- and you pick it up gratefully, the scalding heat not the slightest problem for your reddening palms as you back away. There's a little flimsy spoon inside, and you stir the oatmeal, sitting on the edge of the thin mattress. [[Time to eat, you suppose.]]

(set: $hunger to true) "Nah. 'm not feelin' hungry." You dismiss the guard, sighing as you lay back in bed. You might regret it later- but for now, food's the last thing on your mind. Being in a place like this, no matter how used to it you get, takes its toll regardless. "Alright then." You sigh, stretching as far as you can- arms over your head, toes peeking out under the blankets. You're not hungry, but a shower might go a long way. They should come by again in half an hour or so- that's how the schedule always goes. [[You wonder how you're going to bore yourself out of your mind today.]]

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/l3x6vs9vd/large_3.jpg" height="500" width="500"> Your older brother, Hal. You feel your eyes glaze over as you reminisce- the thoughts of snowmen and [[cold pink noses]] coming to mind, as well as tripping over [[ornate rugs]] toddling after him. You miss him terribly. He comes around as often as he can, he says, but still... [[You doubt.->Wake up.]]

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/93bqv22gp/large_2.jpg" width="500" height="500"> //It was the first snow. You remember the first snow- magical as you press your face to the glass, fogging it up and smudging it with fingerprints. The flakes dance slowly down from the sky, as if enticing you outside. "Oh, Reginald, if you would please stop dirtying the window," your mother scolds- but it never feels like a scolding in her soft, whispering voice. She puts a hand on your head of growing curls, ruffling them gently as you tilt your head up to look at her. She's [[smiling]]. Next thing you know, you're [[streaking outside]] in absolute excitement, snow blanketing the gardens and beautiful paved designs just enough for everything to look crystalized. It's beautiful. And your brother is there, too, wandering after you with a watchful eye and a grin as you stick out your tongue. The snowflakes are cold, melting instantly and you shiver, bursting into childish laughter. [[How old were you? You must have been four, or five.->Hal]]//

//Everyone always told you, and you know it's true- you followed Hal everywhere he went from the second you started crawling. You remember the texture of the rug under your hands and feet, sometimes- ridiculously plush and always freshly washed by the army of servants in the manor.// The only one you bother ever remembering is [[Walter]].

//Was she smiling? She always looked a little sad when she smiled. Wistful, even.// ... sometimes you wonder if she's alright. You don't dislike her, after all. [[Even if sometimes you blame her for your father's decision.->cold pink noses]]

//More like toddling. You were wrapped up in so many layers, it was a wonder you didn't fall over the second you took a step.// But it was to keep you warm, certainly. Even if you looked like a [[starfish the entire time.->cold pink noses]]

Walter, the family butler. He's probably still there right now- old and wise but always spry on his feet. He was more of a parental figure than your father ever was. You miss him, sometimes, too. [[Maybe you care about more people than you thought, at first glance.->Hal]]

The oatmeal hardly tastes like anything- bland, and scalding hot on your tongue. But it's food- and you blow on each spoonful before you eat, taking it in. All part of routine- and hey, at least you won't be too hungry later. You even scrape the sides- making sure every little bit is gone before you so much as set it aside on the floor. [[Time to shower.]]

Almost like magic, there's a sharp rap on the door the second your eyes glaze over in tired thought. You gather some clothes, stumbling to your feet again, and head to the door. It opens- an armed guard watching you with cold eyes. You're as good as [[scum]] here, you know that. You amble in front of the guard- after all, with the gun to your back, you're an easier target to shoot if you just start running off. You hold your clothes in your arms, numb and used to it. It's an inhumanity you can live with. [[You head into the open room.]]

You're not the super imaginative type- so keeping yourself entertained mentally is a difficult task. When you daydream, it's usually about Hal. What is he doing right now? Probably work. He talks about it more and more every time he visits- learning from their father how to run the company. [[Burgundy Incorporated.]] You wonder, if you were there, if you would be right beside them. Or if you'd be ignored as usual, left alone until you threw a fit, and all you'd be met with was //[[his]]// condescending voice. Most of the time, you wonder if you're [[better off here]].

You wake up again, slow- almost having more trouble opening your eyes than last time. The sound of laughter fades, and you realize distinctly you probably skipped breakfast, and shower time too. You're not free. You're stuck here, still, where the brightest colored thing is your bright firetruck red hair. [[But then there's an unexpected knock at the door.]]

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/ik1k1ombd/large.jpg" height="500" width="500"> //It doesn't look like any sky you've ever seen. It's azure blue, sapphire blue. But there's something about that you undoubtedly love.// [[It's definitely blue, all right.->But at what cost?]]

<img src="https://s26.postimg.org/qqtjt9ce1/large_1.jpg" height="300" width="300"> The thought of it just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Your father is what you consider the shittiest thing on the planet, but what would he be without his company? Just an asshole, probably. But at least he wouldn't be keeping Hal so busy, too. Dragging the one good thing in your life down with him. [[You wish you could stop it.->You wonder how you're going to bore yourself out of your mind today.]]

He always sounded so calm. That's the part you hated the most- that he didn't even seem to care about you. The way he looked you over when your face was red and scrunched up from crying, with nothing but an impassive stare. [[Way to bring yourself down, Regis.->You wonder how you're going to bore yourself out of your mind today.]]

Of course not. You know that, obviously. But it's the only comfort you can keep, the solace of knowing your father can't touch you here. Can't look at you here. Can't be so //openly disappointed//-- You sigh, deciding to get up just as there's a rough rap on the door. It's shower time. You gather some clothes, stumbling to your feet again, and head to the door. It opens- an armed guard watching you with cold eyes. You're used to being a perpetual disappointment- used to being looked at like a stranger. Everybody does, here. Maybe it's because you make it [[a point to be alone]]. You amble in front of the guard- after all, with the gun to your back, you're an easier target to shoot if you just start running off. You hold your clothes in your arms, numb and used to it. It's an inhumanity you can live with. [[You head into the open room.]]

You don't consider yourself the worst here. ~~Who ever does?~~ But you see them, with their empty faces and their hardened glares. Some of them even look happy to be here. What have they done? Was it better? [[Worse]]?

Who is there to talk to, really? You're not really fond of the idea of talking to anyone else here. After all, they could be here for such a wide variety of fuck-ups... [[But you're definitely not one to judge.->better off here]]

There's no privacy here. The boys' shower room is an open space, drains patterned across the plain tiled floor. Sprinklers are right overhead, surgical-seeming trays with a nondescript bar of soap and towels strewn about. Other boys, of all different heights and builds, are already nude and showering- if you [[watch]] for too long, you might be met with stink-eye. Once you're heralded into the room, you're left to [[wander]], if you want. Or you could make your way directly to an empty station and [[lay low]].

You hardly remember it. It all happened when you were only five- so only fragments, like [[blood coagulating on the playground sand]], come together in your memory. [[A horrible scream]]. [[Sometimes, you doubt you really deserve to live at all.->Time to shower.]]

You remember only looking down, being mesmerized by how the sand came together in bright red clots. [[Immediately dazed.->Worse]]

It was shrill- before it died out so suddenly, you weren't even sure it happened. [[Cut off by gurgles and silence.->Worse]]

It's rude to stare- but you won't tell yourself that first- someone else will. "Fuck off," the stranger hisses, and you feel yourself startled back into reality. [[Woops.->You head into the open room.]]

You don't quite feel like getting down to business just yet. It's an odd place to socialize, but you're starting to get a little depraved of social contact. Awkwardly you mill about, under the guise of finding a free station- hoping to make eye contact with someone. You're lanky, but not very tall yet- looking a bit silly as you start opening your mouth to say something to another boy just a bit shorter and stockier than you, just for him to turn completely away from you. [["'Ey, y' okay?"]] [[Decide to just go shower.->lay low]]

There's no point in trying. Better clean than in a fist-fight- even if the latter seems like a last ditch effort at entertaining yourself. You find an open space in a corner- breathing a sigh of relief as you drag the nearest tray over with you, slipping your clothes off and stepping under the stream of water. It's not hot, but it's not cold either- goosebumps rising on your skin as you lather the soap and [[get clean.]]

"''Of course not, you fucking idiot.''" The other boy looks at you. His gaze isn't cold- but instead slightly bordering on maniacal. He must be new here, you realize- not numbed yet. "''Leave me the hell alone.''" "'lright," you mutter back, slightly frustrated- to which he spins entirely around, looking even more peeved. "''What was that? Don't fuck with me! Don't you //ever//-''" Suddenly he moves, shoving at you- "''-fuck with //me//!''" You're shocked by the push, and he's approaching again- fists clenched. [[Punch him out.]] [[Run off.]]

(if: $triedtofight is true)[You look around, a bit paranoid, but it seems that boy truly didn't follow you.] You rinse off the soap, taking a second to let the water run over you entirely. The small sensations are luxuries... even if this particular one isn't hot enough to keep you entirely warm. Without much other interruption, you [[head back to your room->you almost laugh]]

You stand your ground. Before he manages to throw a punch, you do- hitting him square in the jaw. "''Ughngh--ff//ffuck//!''" he yells as he reels back. You're stunned- spotting blood beading at his gum- before he strikes back. You're hit in the face- grunting as you immediately move to tackle him to the floor. It takes all you have to tackle him down- and as he squirms under you, you attempting to pin his wrists, one of the wardens comes running. "//Hey! Stop!//" the warden shouts, grabbing you under the arms and tugging you off of him. You lick your upper lip and taste iron- blood streaming down your nose. "//If you're gonna be a little shit, you don't get a shower. Come with me.//" You struggle for a second- just to get him to stop holding you- but the warden pushes his gun into your back, and you immediately hold your hands up. No shower today, you suppose. But as you thumb at your nose and watch the blood smeared on your hand, [[you almost laugh]]. (set: $fought to true) (set: $stink to true)

(set: $triedtofight to true) You're really not sure if you can take him- you're taller, but he's stockier and he could double you over with his body weight. Before he can even swing, you're bolting out- ducking between a few other shower stations and stumbling as he yells after you. It seems like you're safe, though. [[He's not following you.->lay low]]

Back in your glorified cell, you shuffle through the small space with no purpose. (if: $fought is true)[You realize you're still bleeding profusely from the nose- wiping it again with your fist. Was it worth it? The pain starts settling in- hot and throbbing and nothing short of a terrible headache to accompany it.] You debate napping again- anything to relieve the boredom. These are the worst days. With no visitation, you're just about to go out of your mind. [[But then there's an unexpected knock at the door.]]

... ''to be continued'' ...

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CHARACTER SELECTION

Regis

~~Alanna~~

~~Craig~~

~~Caroline~~