(Untitled)

[iknowyourfear]

WHO: Katurian Katurian, Terry Ward, & the infamous Dr. Angelica Einstürzen.
WHERE: Norman Osborn Hospital of Psychiatric Evaluation, Katurian's room.
WHEN: After hours.
WARNINGS: All the given warnings associated with the above characters.
SUMMARY: Two strange boys discuss a mutual problem; the good doctor meets her match.
FORMAT: Threads within:

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terry & katurian;

[iknowyourfear]

He'd spent about a week working as an intern at the hospital, but he couldn't fathom yet what part of him would grow up to want this environment every day. All the sterile whiteness disagreed with him. He'd only been on an asylum once before -- to see his mother, or the scratching, shaking, clawing, frightened sliver of a human being that he'd made her. Bad memories. But he was made of something tough, or he'd convinced himself that he was by virtue of being immortal, and so he'd resolved not to back out.

He owed Dr.Einstürzen, big time, and more importantly, he had to make sure she didn't have plans for the blood she'd taken from him

[afeatherpillow]

Katurian had wanted it all to go away. The detective had insisted that Katurian was right - yes, Einstürzen was here - but he hadn't heard from her in ages. He hadn't caught the flutter of her jacket as she turned the corners of the halls. There were no familiar murmurs outside his door.

(No murderous visits in the middle of the night.)

He was well-practiced at ignoring his problems, of shoving them in the back of his head where they tore and screamed at his synapses, the deafening sounds and warning bells muted into a tickle at his subconscious. But Terry had asked and Terry had insisted, and a small part of Katurian had learned from his old mistakes and undoings and wanted to make things right.

"Come in," he said. He stood up from the bed, brushing invisible dust and grooves from his pants. His voice was clear and firm - healthy, practically - the energy from the musical holding him up like a kick-stand.

[iknowyourfear]

He remembered watching her move around in her laboratory like a ghost, tall and thin and unnatural somehow. Maybe it was the small details, like her six-fingered hands. He might not have noticed, but his mentor had been fascinated by those hands. In hindsight, Terry probably should have known better. Like minds, and all.

He waited to be invited in before opening the door, glancing only once back into the hallway before shutting it behind him. Never could be too careful. This place wasn't what it seemed -- and even if it was, asylums made him uncomfortable. Too many mommy issues, too many unstable thoughts floating around, fears practically begging to be taken advantage of. He had to control his traumas and his appetites to focus on the issue there, and now. Katurian.

"Let's cut to the chase." He wasn't one for wasting time, immortal or not. "What's the deal between you and the good doctor?"

[afeatherpillow]

It was the same question the detective had asked him - without the ironic adjective, of course - but this time, he didn't shrink away or yell or raise his voice. This time, he expected it. Terry was his partner in this, and, as reluctant as the alliance was, Katurian felt like they were on the same ground. Or similar ground, anyway. Angelica had captured someone in their lives, someone close to them. They were the ones left behind with an unsettling sickness in their stomach. No, Terry was an ally.

Terry, whose father fed on fears, the psychic immortal.

(He didn't flinch.)

"I have reason to believe she killed a friend of mine." He didn't mind the lack of small talk, as abrupt and awkward as his serious words felt on his lips. He paused, conscious of this, and then swallowed. "Last year."

later: angie, katurian & terry;

[dogabuse]

[ it was the witching hour, and she was a phantom of the hospital. it might have been a more convincing haunting, if someone hadn't insisted on making a fuss. of course, she doubted anyone would be able to prove anything-- she was careful, meticulous, obsessive. mistakes were not an option. but there was the chance. katurian had to be dealt with. and in anycase, she so enjoyed their conversations.

angelica drifted through the hallways to katurian's room, pausing only a moment outside the door before turning the door knob. ]

[iknowyourfear]

[ terry's head turned up sharply at the sound of the door knob turning. there was no reason for anyone else to be there. it was late at night, he'd checked the guard rotations --

there's a moment of tension. he glances katurian's way, as if to say, what now? ]

[afeatherpillow]

[Katurian didn't know. He stood, frozen, and though the fear felt like a distant thing, a buzz in a body that wasn't his own, he still couldn't move.

Somehow, he managed to look at her. Hard-eyed. Determined. He could convince himself that the locking in his knees was his will, his stubbornness. He was a brick wall. He didn't turn away.]

[dogabuse]

[ it's eternity compressed into that moment of tension, time slowing down so that fraction of a second feels like minutes. an unexpected guest. she'd seen terrance ward's name, knew he'd found himself an internship at the hospital-- been suspicious of it, even, but this was just precious. little boys and their little schemes.

she knew there was no point in threatening terrance. the boy was immortal. she'd seen it with her own eyes, and even if he claimed evil ran in his blood, he had an annoyingly heroic streak.

the door shut behind her with an ominous little click. she loomed in the doorway, tall and slender, pale as the dead. from her coat, she drew a sinisterly sharp scalpel. angelica's voice was, by contrast, soft and gentle. coaxing. ]

Now, now. Let's play nice, boys. Shall we?