Sunday in the Clinic, during Visiting hours

[maias-notebook.livejournal.com]

For the first time since she had 'gone into the dark' as she told herself she did, Maia was aware of the things going on outside the dark room she was in. She heard the monitors beeping, she had always felt people there, Tara, Paige and Phoebe she could hear, everyone else sounded foggy and far away at best.

Maia scanned the room, hundreds of empty beds lined up in rows all over, a greyish light illuminated them giving the entire room a since of foreboding. It was cold, Maia's dress and thin sweater did little to protect her from the freezing cold of the steel room. She looked at her shoes, shiney little black ones, ones that she knew were long since to small. Her hands were tiny, the dress going only to her knees.

Tara said I am still the same way as I left, they cant turn me back to this. This is a memory. Maia thought to herself.

"Who is Tara?" A wheezy voice came out of the darkness behind Maia. Maia's heart froze, she heard her monitors from far away sounding as if they were going crazy. Maia sat breathing hard not answering the voice, she didn't dare move, she was sure her heart was going to pound out of her chest.

"She is the witch is she not?" The voice came again. "You are not magical Maia, she cannot protect you from this" The voice was not cruel but it was cold and uncaring. Maia still sat hardly daring to breathe now.

((ooc: keep forgetting to place these in the clinic ones or am i not supposed to?))

Paperwork...anyone got a Bic and some lighter fluid?

[dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com]

Sundays were usually a good time for the week's paperwork to get done. For some reason the majority of people did not, as a rule, get hurt on Sundays.

Of course, who knew if this place was going to follow that particular rule, but the size of the apartment -or lack there of- made massive paperwork projects somewhat impossible, so that left the Clinic.

Really, he was going to have to start getting out more.

For the time being, however, he was puttering about in the front of the clinic, using the chairs in the waiting room to help him sort and work on filing. He had his little radio with him and the dulcet tones of some song he yoinked off the internet played throughout the front room of the Clinic, keeping him company for the time being.

[ooc: Lazy Sunday if anyone would like to poke or needs to bleed.]

Counseling Hours

[master-of-fear.livejournal.com]

( The poster outside the door says Jonathan's seeing people for counseling )

Jonathan's in the clinic, holding his weekend counseling hours, if a bit later than usual. Psychiatric help for those that need it.


((ooc:the mun says: 'it's 7:00 ish where I'm at?'))