Being lonely was a foreign sensation to her. For years at a time, Poppy Davenport had been showered in love, often with generations coatings of love and affection clinging to her frail, freckled skin. And to think— after no more than four days of being under the watchful gaze of, well, whoever was nosy enough really, the blonde was already sickened by the company she kept inside the walls of Stonefield Psychiatric Hospital.
It was nearing the evening, and the sun had retreated from the melancholic sky. Poppy had always envied that. How, when the sun no longer wished to be seen - it wasn’t. Like a vanishing act or Houdini on steroids, it was astounding. But with the absence of light to illuminate the atmosphere surrounding the prison hospital, the absence of her short-lived freedom was robbed also. After spending her limited time to ‘wander her environment’ to adopt the role of her childhood hero Dora, Poppy had discovered that no place quite beat the ‘lounge’ area. Sure, the leather couches would have been at their prime in the eighties, and the DIY chess pieces didn’t scream authenticity - but the subtle ring of the music and the giggles and obnoxious conversation at a minimum - it did her just fine. “Who is it?” She cooed, having heard something - or someone - further down the hallway. If there was one thing she hated more than the thought of interacting with somebody - it was the thought of being watched, observed, listened to, all without her consent. “C’mon, I don’t bite. I know— I know you think I’m crazy but trust me vampirism is for Stoker, 19th century shit right there.”
Wandering had become a favorite pastime of his, but he would admit that he preferred to do so alone. The security guard, and by extension, the rest of the faculty, didn’t seem to approve of this though and because of that he had been followed around by some lazy security guard and forced into deal with annoyance. It had taken a liking to spitting fire every few minutes, clearly to remind him that it was, in fact, still lurking about — along with his special little witness, of course. Part of him was tempted to cause trouble just to give him a reason to need to fight him off.
But of course that would ruin his little plan of being a compliant prisoner, of giving himself the means to reacquire his energy, and he would admit that being shoved back into an isolation unit wasn’t the most tempting of fates. If he was going to escape the facility in a timely matter (though to him time wasn’t a much-understood concept) he would need to make more intelligent choices, and unfortunately that meant finding other ways to shake off his follower. Success didn’t come easily for him but he had managed it this time, and it influenced pride to send a jolt through him.
Inevitably, they would find him, but for the moment he let himself bask in the knowledge that he had shaken off his pursuer — that he was free. Keeping an eye out of his least favorite witness, he continued on down the hallway and toward the recreation room, where he could hopefully hide in plain sight. It wasn’t a perfect plan and he knew they would find him, but it might have ended up giving him a precious few minutes of peace. A voice made him pause at the doorway, curiosity shoving itself to the front to make itself known. How unfortunate. “You couldn’t bite me if you wanted to,” he answered, lifeless as always, “but who wants to know?”
