Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
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Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
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Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
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Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
Something about the way Mac acted and her words brought out a part of Mason that he hadn’t felt since the year before Pennhurst actually opened when he last dated anybody. While he was old enough to be her ancestor, he still appeared to be twenty nine, the age he was at his murder. When the cigarette was offered to him, he turned it down, opting to stick with his pipe for now, which he had picked up and brought to his lips to take a puff from before exhaling the smoke slowly.
"Everybody needs treatment, dear, even if it isn’t of the Medical type," he stated as he found her making herself home on his lap, her hips sitting right at his waist, which brought a smirk to the male’s face which was intensified by his facial hair. Immediately, his hands moved to her waist, giving a good, firm grip to it while his fingers found their way up to the hem of her shirt and barely grazing over the skin that was right there.
"You really should pick your words carefully, Macaria, because telling somebody that could result in various situations," he whispered as he leaned up to her ear, letting the words just tease her senses. Honestly though, it was taking all the will power he could muster to remain professional, at least for now.
Carefully she took a deep breath at his words, truly finding the twisted sentence more arousing then it should have been to any person feigning for normalcy. Her blue eyes fell closed, even it only for a moment. She kept her hand on his shoulder, moving it only slightly to his neck. Somewhere in between all that was occuring, she'd managed to take one last drag before leaning back and destroying the cherry with her heel, then tossing it into the trash.
Now with both hands free, she was allowed to do more with Mason then she could just seconds before. "What's wrong, Mason?" She asked, pitching her voice low. "Afraid I might like the treatment a little too much?"
Slowly, she ran her hands down his chest, tugging lightly at his belt, but moving no further within that particular moment. Instead, Mac titled her head and leaned forward to press her lips to Mason's neck, leaving a trail of lingering kisses that slowly worked from where she had begun towards his lips. It was at that moment she discovered she liked the taste of him. Or perhaps it was the taste of death, she'd come to lust for. Nevertheless, it was clear he was the one who had become the object of her attention--living or dead.
"You locked the door," she whispered. "No one's going to walk in and see us if that's what you're so screwed up over." Mac kissed him again, lacing her arms around his neck.
Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
"Never in the century that I’ve been here has anybody found my antics to be as interesting as you do," he stated, slipping his chair a bit closer to the edge of the desk where she sat. "You know, I will always be the most successful head of medicine this hospital has ever seen. That mortal knows nothing about how to deal with patients properly, she thinks that a quick sedative and preventing fights will solve anything," he stated, obvious disapproval in his tone before a hand moved to the bare leg that was on the arm of his chair, gripping it slightly while his fingers moved across the flesh.
When she brought up the fact that age didn’t mean a thing to her since she was legal, it made the man start to wonder about this girl, moreso made him very curious about just what she was wanting to happen, then of course there was a part of him that wanted to take part in her intentions. “As for inflicting pain on other’s, that’s not exactly my intentions. My methods of healing are much more unorthodox, mainly because the methods from my time period were more long lasting that what is given in this day and age,” he pointed out to her statement. “There are certain patients however, that I enjoy torturing without physical means. As for you though, I’ve not quiet decided which treatment I want to try on you,” the male stated as he looked from her eyes down to her arm and then to the leg in which he was gripping.
"Of course, some patients require treatment that medicine can’t offer, stuff that only other means can give,” was the last thing that left his lips before falling silent, not really certain what the meaning behind what he said was.Â
Mason had sent a shiver up her spine the moment he laid his hand on her leg, and God did she love the feeling of it. Mac listened to him as he spoke and explained the differences in his personal method of treatment as apposed to Andrea's. Honestly, she preferred his to hers. Mac snorted at the subject of Andrea. "That bitch," she said under her breath, just before removing the pack of Marlboro's from her pocket and withdrawing two cigarettes. After lighting one and inhaling a long drag, she offered him the second. "I'm just waiting for the moment another patient stabs her or something. God, I'd love to see her blood all over that goddamn floor."
Mac took another drag, just as she listened to Mason make his statement about which method of treatment he'd consider experimenting on her with. "Do you honestly think I need fucking treatment?" Was the first thing she asked, before coming to the decision it was more or less the wrong thing to say. Standing to her feet, she moved to crawl into his lap, hips straddling his waist. This offered her a better ability of seeing him closer.
Gently, she ran her free hand through his hair, loving the feel of it beneath her fingers. After exhaling the smoke, Mac spoke again, this time offering him something he may have preferred hearing originally. "You can do whatever you want to me, Doctor Hathaway." She paused to take another drag, then continued. "As long as I get to watch these insects squirm."
Other than self-inflicting pain on herself, sadism was something that brought Mac pleasure in more forms than one. It was the main reason why she had been sent to Pennhurst in the first place. But just the idea alone of performing something so obscure on someone with Mason at her side--it was a dream she'd never thought would exist.
you can fuck me, you can play me
you can love or you can hate me
miss me, miss me. now ya wanna kiss me
Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
When Mac closed the distance between them, Mason began to truly wander if there were more than medical reasons in which she joined him and soon, that was confirmed when he listened to everything she had to say. With her leg on the arm of his chair, the male couldn’t help but spare a glance to it before returning to look at her where she sat on his desk. “And just why would you want me, Macaria? You know little about me and not to mention, I’m am much older than I am sure think I am,” he spoke in a casual tone.
It was flattering, nonetheless, that she was interested in him, seeing as the majority of the other’s moreso feared him for his actions and reputation that the walls held. If walls could speak, there would be more knowledge of his actions when he was alive than most any of the patients knew. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not objecting to the fact you want me, just seems a little off. Most anybody else that knew of my history with this hospital are afraid of me.”
The fact that Mason had yet to deny her near advances was taken as a positive sign. Mac curiously wondered how far she would manage to make it before he finally asked her to stop. But of course, until that moment presented itself, she would press on. "Age doesn't mean shit when you're legal, Doc," she responded with a devious grin.
From the back pocket of her shorts, Mac withdrew a brand new scalpel she had stolen from the Head Doctor before her arrival at Mason's office. "You caught my attention from the moment I saw you," she said, rolling her eyes, "as disgustingly cliché as that sounds." With a sigh, she studied the blade in her hands, carefully playing with the tip while she spoke. "I asked around about you. Turns out you have a pretty grusome rep." The grin only returned within that moment, as Mac finally returned her ice blue eyes to him. "I think that's pretty hot."
Mac pulled back the sleeve of her shirt and turned her arm around to reveal the marred flesh from years of self-mutilation. "You like to inflict pain on others. . .like I do. You enjoy watching them squirm beneath your touch and beg for mercy. . .like insects. That's all they are, anyways. Pitiful, worthless insects." Silence eventually fell between them. After a few lingering minutes, Mac at last placed the scalpel on the desk before him.
Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
"Calm yourself, sweet heart," he said while locking the door after she’d sat down. "If I wanted to have you sedated, do you think I’d be in here alone? Besides, I promise you, you could harm me anyways," he stated before moving towards the desk and sat down opposite her, his eyes moving from her eyes and automatically catching how much cleavage was being shown, and if he hadn’t learned how to control his emotions in the Century he’d been stuck in the hospital, he’d be very noticeable that he was slightly interested in it. His eyes did not remain there for long before returning to her eyes and then picked up her folder and dropped it into the bottom drawer of his desk.
"As for being stuck here forever, I promise you, that is not something you want to claim, life has a tricky way of twisting stuff around on you," he told her before bring his pipe back to his lips and taking a puff of the tobacco inside before flashing her a smile. "What I want to know, is what exactly you needed to see me for? You don’t seem like the type who would want to receive treatment willingly, so what is it you want out of this appointment?"
Ever so carefully did Mac sit back in her seat, studying the man before her intently. Interesting, the way he responded. Mason Hathaway wasn't one who would so easily be played into her deck. Precisely the reason for her setting the appointment in the first place. He was different than the rest. And from the moment she laid eyes on him, he had somehow captured her attention fully. Something no one has had the ability of doing so before. He offered her the words she needed to hear, yet spoke nothing of what she wanted him to say. Nevertheless, his reply was exactly what she expected it to be.
"That's a good question," she responded at last, keeping her bright blue eyes locked onto his. "Why would I make this appointment? Though I'm pretty sure the answer is obvious. Doctor Rostin is the head psychiatrist. Why would I come to you--willingly, that is--instead of seeing him?" Mac rose to her feet and slowly approached his desk, taking one lingering step after another, closing the distance between them still. A hand absently glided over Mason's name plate, just before Mac invited herself to sit on the edge of his desk.
"I don't want your treatment, Mason." She continued, moving to extend one leg, resting her foot against the arm of his chair. Mac had always been the one to speak her mind, no matter the subject. Never had she been afraid to be blunt and honest, despite brutality. "I want you." She finalized, at last answering the question he had asked.
Exploring Insanity || May & Mac
May eyed the girl in front of her with disdain. She wore black from head to toe, May had to admit at first glance the girl intimidated her. But the feeling was fleeting and didn’t last more than a moment. “The little kid who thinks he’s dead? Was that supposed to be a threat?” she asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow and leaning back as she folded her arms. This girl didn’t scare her. Yet.
May watched as the blonde girl pulled out a pack of cigarettes, eyeing it with lust in her eyes. She smirked to herself and thought, Maybe this girl isn’t so different from me after all. Still. She seems like a total bitch. "Nice t-shirt," May nodded her head at the girl’s black Sex Pistols shirt. "I’m more of a Stones fan myself, but I can stand God Save the Queen." May continued eyeing the girl’s cigarettes, biting the side of her cheek.
Was that supposed to be a threat?
This one truly was careless. Taking a step closer, Mac stood less than two inches apart from the other, staring directly into her eyes. "I don't make threats," she stated. "I make promises. And I can sure as hell promise you'll regret waking up this morning if you fucking cross me again." Mac stepped back, turning only halfway and taking another drag before searching around the corner.
"There's no thinking involved when it comes to Sherlock," she continued, turning back to the other girl. "He's as dead as his body in the goddamn ground. Trust me, I know." Mac simply ignored the comment she stated about her T-Shirt, really not caring for the other's musical interests. Or anything, for that matter. But something that did catch her attention however, was the way she studied the cigarette Mac held in her hand so intently.
How interesting.
A devious grin appeared within that moment. "What's this?" She asked, taking the pack once more from her pocket and withdrawing a second cancer stick, offering it to the other girl and lighting it for her, then quickly turning again to make sure no staff were gazing about or watching them. After Mac was certain they were in the clear, she introduced herself. "Name's Mac. I don't give a shit if you remember it or not. I most likely won't remember you after we're done here."
Exploring Insanity || May
Well damn. Day two and I’m already bored out of my fucking mind.
May sat there with her back against the cold concrete wall, her legs pulled in to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. A curtain of hair fell across her face, and she gave an exasperated sigh as she rolled her eyes and tucked the strand behind her ear. She looked around lazily, taking in her surroundings.
I hate it here. Why the hell would my aunt send me here if there’s nothing wrong with me? I mean sure I’m a schizophrenic sociopath, but hey, at least I’m not homicidal like some of these freaks.
She had heard rumors about secret passageways and rooms around the renovated asylum, she figured trying to scope these places out would be a good use of her endless time. She stuck a cigarette in her mouth, damp from the cold, and cupped her hand around it as she attempted to light it. An orderly walked past and scolded, “Hey no smoking for the patients.” May looked up without moving her head and gave him the middle finger behind his back. The cigarette failed to light, and she cast it aside, muttering “Fuck”.
She was in the act of standing up when all of the sudden, another body bumped into her, almost knocking her off balance. “Hey why don’t you watch where you’re going? Damn it.” She looked up to see a pair of eyes meeting hers.
The beginning of a new day had always been possibly the most boring event to take up Mac's time. And due to the current weather conditions, she needed to dress properly today. Ripped black jeans were tucked into her most favored pair of combat boots while a black Sex Pistols T-Shirt was covered by her studded leather jacket--Mac's signature piece of clothing. A brand new pack of Marlboro's were picked up alongside an unused lighter and hidden within the left inside pocket. With her make-up done and hair a usual mess, she was at last ready to spend her day doing absolutely nothing.
Fucking wonderful.
She stepped from her room into the hall and wasted no time heading towards the nearest exit. Mac desperately needed a smoke in order to survive being surrounded by losers all damn day. Pushing open the door, she denied eye contact to any and everyone who tried speaking to her as she passed them. Within a matter of seconds she was around the corner and certain she was out of view from the babysitters--until she ran into someone.
The girls words were the first thing Mac heard, before she saw her face. But that didn't matter. Whoever this bitch was, she'd messed with the wrong sociopath. "Better watch who you're talking to," she warned, carefully eyeing the girl from head to toe. "We wouldn't want to end up like Sherlock now would we?"
Mac couldn't take it any longer. She didn't care whether another patient or student saw her. Removing the pack, she took the first of twenty cigarettes out and placed it between her lips, setting the cancer stick ablaze. The first drag at last calm her racking nerves, then she was able to respond more properly.
Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
Mason had not expected such a welcoming now that he was back in his position. Seeing as the young woman seemed dead set on meeting with him, the former doctor vanished from sight in the basement only to reappear in his former office, right next to Andrea’s. It had taken some time, but he had finally got it fixed up nicely.
Part of Mason was questioning what the young woman’s intentions for him were, but who was he to object somebody that seemed to need medical attention, even if his methods were a bit… unorthodox to say the least. With a simple though, the ghost changed his wardrobe to a casual look before picking up his pipe off the desk and packing it with some menthol flavored tobaccoo before lighting it and sitting at his desk, looking over the file of the girl who was on her way. Of course, he’d swiped it from Andrea’s office, but they were now coworkers and both head of Medicine, though she was the head of the living and he the dead, so they had to share information, at least as far as he was concerned.
Just as he was reaching the end of Mac’s file, he heard a knock and the door and stood up, placing the folder on the desk and heading over to the door, fixing his jeans and shirt before opening the door. “Ah, Ms. De Santis, please, come in,” he said, looking towards her before stepping aside to allow her entry.
The moment Mac heard the turn of the knob, a winning smile hiding just a little ounce of seduction beneath it appeared on Mac's face. Though she didn't say thank you for his invitation into the office, she did politely close the door behind her before taking the seat across from his own. Immediately she noticed the folder on his desk--the only folder--and assumed it was her own.
Sitting back in the chair, Mac crossed one leg over the other and turned her eyes to watch him. "See anything in that folder you like?" She questioned with a small grin. "Let me guess, typical sociopath with a broken childhood who really has immense Daddy issues and a slight inability to play well with others. She's not really a danger to the world, just herself." Sarcasm was Mac's strongest suit, and a card she used more often than not. "Dope her up on some medication and send her to bed. She'll be better in the morning. Is that what you're thinking?"
Mac crossed her arms over her chest and began rocking her foot back and forth. "I can tell you all my secrets, Doctor but it wouldn't mean a fucking thing. I'm stuck here forever." A devious smile formed, just as the young girl shifted to move closer, sitting on the edge of her seat and staring directly towards Dr. Hathaway. "Ask me why I don't want to leave."
Doctor's Orders | CLOSED
Despite the limitations on wardrobe at Pennhurst, Mac made her best attempt at dressing up, wearing remotely the same drag she wore during her first arrival. A green and black flannel shirt covered a pair of small black shorts, thigh high stockings covered most of her exposed flesh along with a pair of black Demonia platform boots. Mac had darkened her sky blue eyes and fixed her platinum blond hair to her personal liking.
She paced down the halls of Pennhurst Asylum, passing several patients and students along the way. Most of them barely offered her a glance, but there was the occasional deviant who stopped, just to stare from her near exposed chest to the rest of her slim physique. But none did she bother any attention to. Her mind was solely fixed on only one person, the handsome doctor with a dark past and a twisted mind; Mason Hathaway. Despite the difference of a decade set between them, Mac intended on making him hers--something she's never bothered to do before.
Having scheduled an appointment for a visit, it was where the young girl now headed, just a few more feet ahead. She could see the door already, and her heart pace quickened with excitement and anticipation. Coming to a slow stop just outside his office, Mac took a deep breath, reclaimed her adult-like persona, then casually knocked on the door. While waiting for an answer, she placed the senses of many corpses surrounding her towards the back of her mind. Remain focused, she told herself. Don't bring them here. Her gift was sometimes something she couldn't control, but today, she didn't have any other choice.
Is that so? Well, what can I help you with?
I don't know. You're the smart one here. What can you help me with?
For anybody that needs to schedule an appointment to see the Doctor, there is a sheet outside my office with times for the rest of the week. I expect to see some names on the list later.
I need help, Doctor.
...
No thank you.Â
She shrugged, placing it back into its pack. Suit yourself. Calms the nerves.
Feisty lil' brats are getting on meh nerves
See you? See ma fist? Ah umnae feartie gowk. If ye step outta line, I will make sure ye pay for et. Understood?
Is that a promise?
Would you rather sleep with that crazy psycho Mac or stab that poor child Zachie to death
I think that is an incredibly unprofessional question. And I can’t answer this because I haven’t met anyone by the name of Mac yet. Unless I have and don’t know his name. So technically, can’t do either. Score one for the doctor.
Probably deserved that for the mix up, but regardless. Poison isn’t kept here at Pennhurst. I’m a doctor, I help people. Not take life away from them. Any reason why you’re already showing a strong dislike when we haven’t even officially met yet?
Because I don't like anyone? But you should feel special, Doc. I have a certain dislike for you. Maybe you should look more into your patients before making an assumption of gender based on their name.