Misery Loves Company ~open~

[Grimwyck]

Four-hundred, twenty-nine and three-quarter steps to the decrepit blue building in the human world Aleksei frequented from the closest house. The boarded windows echoed with the crash of glass as girls battered their thin, leech-whitened arms against the last border between their freedom and their sorry lives. Aleksei looked up at the building, tearing his eyes from his torn shoes. Even when he was alive, the boots had been destroyed by years of running errands and delivering papers in the cold streets. He hated to think of that time, that horrid transition from one Great War into a country-altering civil war, then back into a Great War. Perhaps years had come between these, but the days seemed to blur when you had been around- and largely ignored- for so many years.

Aleksei hated this place with a passion. But it was here his voice could be heard. Whether by girls, trapped by their own traumas, or thrill-seeking, self-proclaimed teenage 'savants'. As sick as it was to his own ears, it was fun to muss with the minds of silly British punk-wanna-be's.

He kicked up a rock (or tried to, it mostly just went through his entity) and walked up the steps, jumping hard on the second to the top. That one always creaked loudly, and it startled the raccoon nesting below the old place. He hummed softly and slid through the door, waving to the bones of a rat that had probably brought the plague into the ward. Rumor had it (though he hadn't exactly been in England during that time; he had been haunting Germany) the plague had spread with a vengeance through Bluebell ward and killed off everyone there. It seemed several were trapped her because of it. Aleksei figured it was better to have never been buried correctly, and as such roam, than to have been buried in floorboards and be trapped in one place. Especially one where you had been tormented so long.

Still, it seemed the afterlife brought a little power to those that had been victims in their prime. He nodded to a group of four girls that had used their energies to tie up a dead doctor and were now cheerfully sticking dead leeches into his orifices.

Aleksei sat down on a chair, glad that ghosts could usually sit down in haunted buildings, even if they technically didn't feel tired or anything. It made him feel more normal. Well, for a dead boy.

((title is taken from Emilie Autumn's song, Misery Loves Company))

[sorastro]

Lolita held her arms tightly, biting her lip. She hated mental wards. True, it was no Bedlam, but it still had that aura, the one that those inside had been as tormented as she by doctors who didn't care a lick about them.

And it was her own doing she was there. Johnathan had gone to get her some blood, from a human as it had been too long, and she had declared herself fine and dandy to just sit on the stairs of the asylum. She couldn't have gone with him-she might have caused a scene, such was her hunger-but she was beginning to think she should have.

Well, she was going to finally face it. She was going to stand up, turn around and go inside. This time of her own will, with no "light restraints" like they had put on her before. With a fierce nod, she stood, clenching her fists, and going to the old, decrepit door.

"See? Different," she said to herself. "There's nothing to be scared of here." She pushed open the door and peered inside. Seemed right empty, and she walked in boldly. Wouldn't Johnathan be proud of her! "Okay, just a little walk about. Just poke into a few rooms and then get out." Continuing her little pep-talk, she continued on, opening creaking door after creaking door.

There was an office, an examination room, rooms for the inmates, and rooms for the nurses and doctors-she had long since learned the difference. As she walked, she began to hum a little song, one that was popular back at the Blood Souls coven. As she went along, she found that she was getting slightly less scared, even though she still hugged herself tightly. Not that she wasn't mentally scarred from her time in Bedlam, but this one felt like it had some closure.

"Maybe there's some ghosts here," she said barely above a breath. "Maybe they're getting revenge on their doctors now that they have equal ground. I wish I could have done that." She put her hand against the wall and said, "If you are, ghosts, I support you. I know what they did to you and...it'd be nice if you were. If you aren't, you should put some thought into it, okay?"

And just for the moment, Lolita was happy to stand there, by the window, imagining that perhaps the ghosts were getting revenge.

[Castanea]

Jack was brave. Yessir, he was very very brave, and no stupid neighbor kid named Daniel was gonna tell him otherwise. 'Cause he was so brave he could go into the old Ward. Yessir, he could. An' if he heard ghosts he could talk to them and maybe they'd be nice like Mis'er Steilsson and' even 'lexandra wasn't that bad - just kinda mean like Claire.

As he walked towards the ward he saw a figure move inside the door. Peerin' over to get a better look, Jack saw that it was Miss Lolita that was headin' inside. Miss Lolita was nice - jus' a little sad - an' if she was brave enough to go inside so was he, Jack nodded to himself.

The nine-and-nearly-eight-months old boy continued along the old beaten path before standin' in front of the rickety old Ward. See? It wasn't that scary. It just looked kinda...sad, with its paint peeling off an' its rusty old doorknobs an' its dirt covered windows.

The small boy let out a small, self-assuring snort of breath before pushing open the creaky old door an' walkin' inside.

As he walked down the hallways he looked inside a few of the rooms. Jack shivered slightly as bits of gray-scale specters flickered in and out of his sight range - he'd never seen so many in one place before! Well, 'cept for that one time he'd gone with his class on a field trip to the Tower of London. Jack shivered again. That trip had not ended well - he'd been teased for weeks about faintin' in the middle of the tour. 's jus'...there were so many of 'em an' they were all shoutin' an' yellin' at once an' the screamin' - screamin' so loud - !

Jack rubbed his arms in an attempt to smooth out the goose-flesh that had rippled over his thin arms. His eyes shot up as he saw a swish of hair, an' he began to speed up to a sort of jog, once he realized that it must be Miss Lolita.

"Wai'! Miss Lolita - "

The vampire did not turn to look at him as she stood at the window. A crushin' mass of spiritual presences left Jack gasping for air, unable to finish his cries.

[Grimwyck]

Aleksei looked up from his attempted scuffing at the gathered dust on the floor when he heard the creak of floorboards. A vampire had just walked into the ward, holding her arms protectively around herself. He didn't recognize her, but still watched her walk down the hall, worried about her safety. Some of the more volatile girls lived down that way. He doubted they'd attack her, but the residual noise could leave a person shaken; er, more than she already was.

Then he heard another, slightly louder set of footsteps. Turning back to the door (not that he had far to turn) he saw a little boy, maybe a year younger than himself. Appearance wise, anyway. Something told him this boy was only human... granted gifted from the way he walked around like something was going to hurt him, and shied away from the gaggle of girls still tormenting the poor doctor. This time they had sicked a dead raccoon on him. Grimacing lightly, he looked away. Standing quickly and, of course, silently, Aleksei trailed behind the boy. He seemed to get worse as he continued down the hall, shaking violently, and finally breaking into a jog after the female vampire. "Wait-" Aleksei tried, before being cut off by a shriek. It seemed a banshee had been disturbed in the room next to them. Wincing, he covered his ears and closed his eyes tightly.

The boy finally began yelling for the girl at the end of the hall, apparently named Lolita, adding to the cacophony. "Please, don't do that," Aleksei tried, his voice quiet and as comforting as he could manage. "Really, don't, you'll only upset her more!" As if to bend to the ghost boy's whims, the scream rose to a crescendo so loud and high-pitched that it was a wonder the windows hadn't broken. Poor kid must be going out of his mind, Aleksei thought. I should help him... The problem became, how?

Focusing all his energy and steeling his mind, Aleksei grabbed for the boy's arm. "Stay clam, clam, please?" He quickly dragged him toward the door, sticking his tongue out at the banshee, which seemed to startle her into submission; for a time, anyway. Exhausted and almost whimpering with the exertion that little trip took, Aleksei pushed his new companion out onto the porch of the Ward. Collapsing onto the stairs (and nearly falling through; grabbing the living took a lot out of a ghost), Aleksei turned back to the boy.

I hope he's okay, he thought miserably.

((ooc: squeee at Jack!!!))

[sorastro]

Johnathan wasn't a happy vampire at the moment. He had had a very hard time getting human blood for Lolita, and when he got back, she was gone. Instead, there was a little human boy on the steps. If he had known, he wouldn't have had to go through the humiliation of seducing that man!

Victorian times left their mark, and while he prided himself on being forward thinking, homosexual men still made him squirm a bit.

Then, the door crashed open, and there was Lolita. Why on earth had she gone into the Ward?! But she didn't notice him, dropping to kneel beside the boy, visibly holding herself back from getting some food into her. "Lolita!" he called, holding up the container of blood. She looked to him with an expression of relief before darting to him and gulping it down. "Lolita, why did you go inside? And who is that?"

"I figured I should face my fears," she said, looking down. "It's been long enough. And you remember Jack, right?"

"Oh yes, that human boy. You're fond of him, aren't you?" Lolita nodded. "Well what's the tale, Nightingale?"

"I was just in there, you know, working through it all, and then I just hear Jack screaming. He kept screaming 'Miss Lolita! Miss Lolita!' and when I turned, he was being pulled out! Johnathan, there are ghosts here! Ghosts!"

"Lovely, more of our kind, those who cannot die." He smiled at her and took her hand. "I take it you want to help this poor boy?" Lolita's face brightened, and she kissed his cheek before darting back to the boy.

She sat there, gently shaking him and quietly murmuring, "Jack darling, come now luv. Wake up, dearie, wake up..." Johnathan joined her, sitting on the opposite of the boy, folding his hands under his chin and watching. Lolita wasn't bothered, he would often simply stare at her and not do anything until something pulled him away. He always seemed to be thinking.

But Johnathan wasn't thinking as Lolita thought, but more...absorbing. Lolita hadn't ever been able to tell if there was a ghost, but since his death-er, changing he had developed a sense. It was really quite vague, but he could tell that there was one nearby. The one who had pulled out the boy? But why was he unconscious? "Lolita?" he asked eventually. His companion looked up, looking almost like a mother with the little boy. "Do you know why he fainted?"

"Not really. I've only spoken to him a few times, you see. He has mentioned seeing ghosts before, especially about the time when he went to the Tower of London, but..." She turned back to him, trying to wake him again. Johnathan, having noted how much Lolita looked like a mother, began wondering what she would have been like if her brother hadn't thrown her into Bedlam. Who would she have married? How many children would she have?

His thoughts were disturbed when the boy began to move, letting out a groan and reaching for his head. Lolita smiled and brushed a little bit of dirt off of his cheek, waiting for him to wake enough to talk. Johnathan though, wanted to leave. Keeping Lolita and a boy who can see ghosts by an old mental ward that was haunted was probably one of the worse ideas in the world. But he didn't dare say say so, because then Lolita would be cross, and a cross Lolita was something even the worst of the criminal classes would be terrified to match against.

Or he was just being overly dramatic again. Either/or.