InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Promissa."

Ted (i_worknumbers) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-01-02 00:27:00

Entry tags:

charlie crews, in arkham, ted earley

Good Friends and Good Pills (Charlie)
Things had been weird. Ted felt weird. If he turned his head too quickly, things started to tilt. It wasn't quite being dizzy, he knew that feeling. But it definitely wasn't what things should normally do.

It had been a while since he'd lost count of the days. Counting had been automatic. He'd been locked up before, he knew that. He hadn't liked it before, he knew that too. But this was different. They gave him jell-o here. They let him have a nice bed. They let him roam around. The food wasn't horrible. He had little slippers that were fuzzy and warm, and a pair of jammies that were comfortable. On the days when he was cold, he had a nice warm fuzzy robe to wear that matched the slippers.

He couldn't be sure what he was doing in this place, however. He recalled no trial. He didn't even remember being brought in. Just that he was here. The days passed, and he was still here.

A few times he thought he recognized people. But he was never sure enough to go introduce himself. Or ask them. Mostly, he just looked. Ted watched, and he kept to himself. That seemed like the best thing to do. Safest. He was abnormally concerned with safety, he realized. Nobody else seemed to be as worried about certain things as he was. He'd ask if certain things were safe, or if he was going to have a guard when he did some things - like shower, and they obliged him. Though it didn't seem to him that they took him very seriously.

Ted sat in a chair in the cafeteria where he ate his meals every day and watched other people while he ate a bowl of red jell-o. Thinking about being in this place. Thinking about not being in this place. Thinking about getting some more jell-o.

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i_zen
2011-01-02 08:46 am UTC (link)

Charlie remembered something. Or more, he remembered that he forgot something, but he could never remember what it was he had forgotten. Something was wrong, and he couldn't place it. He couldn't place himself in his reality, and he was having a problem placing his reality in himself. The fact that he thought in this type of pattern was comforting, yet he got the feeling some of the orderlies who caught his ramblings didn't care for it. In fact, they seemed a little put off when he would ask if they loved or were loved, what was love, anyway?

Charlie remembered a smell. This place smelled like that smell, only it was different. He remembered a smell that made him want to find something, but he wasn't sure what. He remembered a smell that made him angry, or made him feel as if he should feel angry, but he couldn't really work himself up into a state to actually find angry. Maybe the smell was what he was having such a hard time remembering to remember.

It had taken sometime before the orderlies had let him shamble around, mumbling about his existence. They had gotten used to his momentary lapses of staring out of windows when he could or staring at bright colors, especially flowers and fruits. They seemed more than happy when he found a routine, settling in during jello time. Charlie didn't eat the jello very often; the wobbly mess bothered him. It reminded him of something he couldn't really remember too. Especially the red jello. He never touched the red jello. But, they usually had an apple for him to enjoy, especially when there was red jello.

So, he sat down in his usual spot with the apple. He'd been good lately. Honest. The marks on his arms from the fighting before were fading. He could take his medication on his own. Usually. When they didn't try to hold him down. He sat in front of the jello counting man and ate his apple.

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i_worknumbers
2011-01-02 08:53 am UTC (link)

Ted looked up from his jell-o. He looked at the man with the red hair. Not red like a fire engine. Red like a carrot. Why were they called redheads when their hair wasn't actually red? He supposed some of them were actually red haired, but a lot of them looked more orange. Like this guy.

This guy.

Who seemed... familiar.

Ted narrowed his eyes at the guy. Very familiar. He not only had a feeling of familiarity, but of home, oddly enough. How a person could feel like home, especially when he knew he wasn't in his home, or anybody's home for that matter, maybe a home in the sense of where you put the elderly or infirm... was he really that old?

Ted returned from his thoughts to the man in front of him. There were strong feelings there. He couldn't deny them or push them away. He wasn't sure he wanted to, really. This was the first time he'd really felt something different since he'd been here. He felt... glad and yet sad to see this man in this place. Why? He wouldn't be able to say.

"I know you." He said, softly. Very softly. If he'd been looking at the jell-o instead of the man, it was very likely it would have been assumed he'd been talking to the dessert.