The Asylum Kitchen

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

The kitchen always looks exceptionally clean, even when it is fully staffed, which is not often. There are only a few regulars that come just about every day to work in the kitchens, and because of this it always seems like a chaotic place. Too few people and too many meals to prepare. At the heart of the operation is Maria, she's the head chef, and when she isn't barking out orders to people who aren't paying attention she's either cooking or inspecting ingredients. Mary can almost always be found in the kitchen area doing something, even late into the evening.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Dark eyes glanced up at the small clock on the wall and Mary huffed passively to herself. It was 1:30 and here she, Mary, head chef at Global Asylum, had her sleeves rolled up, gloves on, and was currently washing dishes. She mused quietly to herself where exactly her new help had wandered off to. The dark skinned woman rolled her eyes, and scrubbed harder on a particularly stubborn spot of grease. This always happened. Every time she convinced the administration to heir another young thing to help her, said young thing always ended up working somewhere else, not with her. This new girl wasn't even qualified to be working with patients! She was a small pretty little thing, perfect fodder for some of the more dangerous patients. Mary had hoped that because of this the nurses wouldn't bully her into helping them, but obviously that was not the case.

There really was nothing for it, she was sure that where ever Angelique was, the young girl was working hard. Something told Mary the minute she saw the young woman's application that she wouldn't be the type to be playing games or watching TV in the living area. She might need a stern talking to when she showed up again in the kitchens, but it wouldn't be severe by any stretch.

At the moment Mary remained the only attendant in the kitchen, right after the lunch rush most took their lunch breaks to eat and socialize, but Mary was never one to dilly dally. Dishes needed washing and dinner had to be started soon if it was all to be prepared in time. She scrunched her eyes for a minute, thinking over what she was making this evening. She remembered Alfred's hamburger of coarse, that was a given, the poor thing needed as much meat on his bones as she could give him! But what else? She remembered many orders for ravioli, quite a few for chicken tacos, and a few pizza requests for the younger patients, though she knew that there were many more as well.

Finishing one of the larger pans she placed it down on a towel and craned her head over to her makeshift desk to take a look at the ingredient tally she'd made up for the day. Mary prided herself on being versatile, she enjoyed cooking just about everything, and when she took over the kitchens she'd gone out of her way so that patients could request certain dishes that they preferred. Granted, it was quite a bit more work, but she was an artist of food, and it was a welcome challenge. If one day she was able to open her own restaurant as she wished, she'd be dealing with a similar environment.

She gazed over the list, and nodded softly to herself. Some of the items would need to be started soon because of the bulk of requests for them. Mary turned her gaze back to the dishes and hummed to herself as she worked. Once these were done she'd start on dinner. If she was lucky her hired help might even show up eventually to help, though Mary doubted it. Not many of her staff seemed to take this job seriously. She didn't expect Angelique to turn out like that, but the nurses were relentless. She might not even get to see Angelique for quite a while if things kept going as they were.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Thu Nov 18, 2010 2:02 pm

The hallway outside the kitchen was silent except for the dull thumping of oversized shoes and erratic panting of the facility’s newest intern. Raivis Galante had only just moved into his room last night, and already now, on his first day of work, he was having a panic attack. Why…why was I so stupid?! I can’t believe I messed up already…They’re going to kick me out of here for sure!

He had a good reason to be freaking out. The boy had only been given one major task that morning, and it had been delivering food to a few of the less-dangerous patients, usually a nurse’s job, but Raivis hadn’t minded taking it up when he heard they needed more help in the kitchen. There was so much to learn, and Raivis had liked exploring the building and meeting some of the people there. Somewhere during all that bustle, however, he had managed to lose his keys. He knew it was possible someone had taken them from him, but he believed it was more likely that he had just dropped them somewhere. He thought about going and reporting it to Hei Wang, who was the head of the security here, but Raivis hoped against hope that somehow he’d be able to recover them himself before having to resort to that and admitting he’d lost them. There were few things Raivis hated more than getting in trouble, and unfortunately for him, it seemed to happen a lot.

He shuddered as he stood before the door to the kitchen. He knew the head chef would probably be in there, and Raivis wasn’t sure if she’d be any less intimidating than Mr. Wang was. He had only met her once that morning, briefly. He remembered she was small, but so was he, and she was the kind of person who liked being in charge and was good what she did, whereas he always needed to rely on someone and was only good for following orders. And sometimes not even that.

Raivis took a deep breath and pushed his way through the door. He looked around the room nervously. There she was - just as he had expected - leaning over the sink and washing dishes. He shuffled uncomfortably, adjusting his large jacket as he his eyes continued to scour the kitchen, and disappointed at not seeing anything that resembled his keys, stared down at the floor dejectedly.

“Um, I’m sorry, Ms…” Oh no - he’d forgotten her name! “Err, ma’am…P-please excuse me. I d-don’t mean to bother you, but- have you, by chance, seen some keys around here? I, I think I might’ve dropped them this morning after I finished the breakfast round.”

He quivered anxiously. He hoped by some crazy miracle she had found them and was just holding onto them for him somewhere out of sight. Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

When Mary had heard the kitchen door softly open and close she had almost been finished with the dishes from lunch time. Time was a wastin, and she had to start dinner soon. So Mary simply continued working on the task at hand, she needed them finished in a timely manner any way. But she did take the time, with her hands wrapped around a foamy skillet, to order the new person in the room to work

"Start a large pot to boil, please." In response Mary heard some slight mumbling from the door, and tilted her head in confusion, but didn't turn. It was far to soft for her to hear.

"Speak up, I can't hear you like that. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to mumble? And why are you still standing there like a bump on a log? Boil the water, please."

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Tue Nov 23, 2010 5:36 pm

Raivis stared at the head chef helplessly. He couldn’t refuse an order. It had been ingrained in his mind that he must always do what he was told, no matter what the situation was. The boy had a strong fear of authority, and while the same fear tormented him for not recovering his lost keys, the same drive moved his feet towards the sink where he grabbed a large, clean pot and began to fill it with water. He brought the heavy pot over to the stove and turned it on. The chef still hadn’t looked at him, even though he had been standing at another sink not far from the one she was using. Vaguely, Raivis wondered if maybe she thought he was someone else.

“E-excuse me. Ma’am?” he tried again, this time, raising his voice higher. It still came out as a bit of a squeak, but with slightly more confidence than before. “I’m sorry, but, have you seen any keys around here?”

He could feel sweat forming at the back of his neck. He really didn’t want to get in trouble. Please, please, let them be here. I won’t ask for anything else ever again. But Raivis knew this probably wasn’t true. He always needed someone to bail him out. This wouldn’t be the last time he was praying for a favor. The chef certainly looked focused on her task. Raivis waited patiently for her to answer him, trying not to fidget too much as he did so.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary finished up the last dish just as she heard her little helper stumble over to one of the stoves. She took the times to wash her hands again, though they were now the consistency of prunes and far to wet for her liking. Once cleaned she dried her hands and took the time to put the pots and pans away. During that the other girl spoke again, and though this time it was louder, Mary still couldn't hear it. It would have to wait, she was a busy woman.

"I told you to speak up when you talk. No one is going to listen to you if you don't speak clearly, mija." She finished her task and turned to look at who she had forced into servitude for the moment. To her surprise it was a young man, she almost blushed at that, but covered it with a clearing of her throat. He sure sounded like a woman when he'd first spoken. Mary at least hoped he didn't know what she'd called him, though if the dejected look he was giving her was any indicator, he had understood.

"Well, whatever you were doing, your mine now. I'll not be having the nurses stealing my hired help if I can't do the same. Now come over here and help me with the potatoes." Mary smiled sweetly to herself when the young boy - cause he looked around 16 to her eye - looked even more lost, but he didn't up and leave.

She moved to the store room, and when she came back out she had a basket of fresh potatoes with her. She placed them down on a counter and pulled out one of her many wooden cutting boards. She placed it in front the young boy, and grabbed a knife from one of the racks on the kitchen's island.

"I'll peal, you cut. Think you can do that mijo?"

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Thu Nov 25, 2010 9:57 am

Raivis wasn’t sure if he was more frustrated or distressed. It was probably an equal mix of both. He didn’t want to make anyone upset or disappointed, but there was really no way he could win. What would happen if someone found out he had lost his keys? What if a patient got out of their room because of him? He could get fired and lose his scholarship and have to leave and…no! He had to stay calm. The boy wasn’t happy about having to shuffle around the kitchen instead of trying to recover his lost item, but he couldn’t bring himself to openly complain. This lady was his superior; he had to listen to her.

He watched her with a worried expression as he stood by the stove and frowned when she replied to him with what sounded like a feminine endearment. When she actually turned to look at him for the first time, she seemed a bit flustered. Raivis tried not to look too annoyed or impatient. He had a small voice that he wasn’t used to raising. The doctors had always told him to speak up during therapy too, but Raivis was too afraid that he’d sound like he was yelling. He had never been assertive in his whole life, and this often made it difficult for him to get what he wanted or even communicate sometimes.

“I was working for the nurses,” he tried again, but he wasn’t clear enough for the lady to take the hint. Instead, she claimed him for her own kitchen empire and decided to put him to more work. The chef didn’t know how much she was upsetting him, but at least her warm smile was almost able put him at ease. Almost.

Raivis glanced around the kitchen one more time and walked towards the counter obediently. He waited while she went and fetched the potatoes. After she brought them back, she set down the basket down and placed a cutting board before him. That was the first sign of trouble. Raivis flinched and locked his eyes on the wooden surface, already dreading what was coming next. Sure enough, when he turned to look, the chef was holding up a knife, only inches away from him. He let out a startled cry and shrank back, his body already beginning to tremble as he fought to compose himself.

“I, I-!”

He stared at the blade in her hand with wide eyes. Deep breaths! Remember, Raivis, stay calm. Knives are used for cooking. They’re used for cutting vegetables too, not flesh. Well, yes, okay, I know you can use them to cut meat fairly easily. But don’t be afraid! They won’t cut you. Not if you’re careful. You’re going to have to get over this eventually if you’re going to be working in the kitchen. Now go help the nice lady out. But no matter what the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his former therapist said, Raivis was still terrified of that sharp object. Similar weapons…tools in his own hands and in the hands of others had given him the scars in the past, and now even looking at one still made him quake.

“S-sorry!” he croaked, mortified with embarrassment. “I’ll do it…”

He winced and held out a shaky hand to receive the handle.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary watched with a raised brow as the boy took one look at the knife and wilted like a flower deprived of water. He looked quite a bit paler and was shaking all over the place. It was really something to see. Mary gave him another funny look and watched as his trembling hand extended to take the knife. She sighed inwardly and took it back.

"Sure you're not a patient mijo? Oh well, if you can't chop potatoes I'll just show you how." With the ease of someone well used to life in a kitchen Maria pealed one of the potatoes with record speed and placed it in front of the boy.

"Alright, this is how you hold it correctly." She grabbed the young mans hand and forced the knifes handle into it, shaping his hand to how she thought it should be. Then she came up behind him and placed her hand on his.

"And this is how you cut. Make sure you don't hurt yourself, keep your other hand away from the blade." Gently she steadied his hand and brought the knife down to chop the potato in half. She continued this until they were in nice little chunks, ready to be tossed into the bowl.

"There, see? Don't be so skittish."

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Tue Nov 30, 2010 11:21 am

Though his face was bright red in embarrassment from the display he was making, Raivis couldn’t help but sigh in relief when the head cook retracted the knife. Maybe she wouldn’t make him handle it after all. Her question stung him, however. He didn’t need to be reminded that he really had been a patient not too long ago. He often felt like he still was one, only taking up the guise of a “normal” person in his self-denial. It was so depressing...He was distracted from his sulking, however, when the cook, like some sort of kitchen ninja, took a potato and with a few flicks of her wrist, removed its skin almost instantly.

“W-whoa…” Raivis breathed, impressed.

He stared at the naked potato, expecting her to cut it into pieces too, when suddenly, the cook seized his hand and shoved the handle of the blade into it. Raivis yelped and almost dropped the knife, but the cook held his fingers in place firmly. Raivis’ mouth hung open in protest, but he bit his tongue before he could say anything or make any more embarrassing noises like the whimper he had let out when he felt her press against his back. Thank God she’s a woman, was all the boy could think as she held and moved his hand. He would have had a panic attack if a man had been standing behind him right now, so close, hand gripped around his tightly, controlling him. Raivis shut his eyes tight, trying to rid himself of the thought.

The chef was saying something to him, but Raivis was distracted by the commanding voice in his head. Open your eyes. If you don’t calm yourself down, you’ll only end up looking pathetic and then they really will lock you away. Leave the past in the past and just do your job.

He peeked in front of him and saw the potato lying in small chunks from the motions the chef had made him do. It felt awkward and unnatural, especially with his hand enclosed in someone else’s. Raivis had never been trusted to cook anything, and his diet until now had mostly consisted of pre-made frozen dinners and other instant food. He had been so pleased to learn that the institute would be providing his meals for him, but he hadn’t realized that he’d have to help prepare them himself.

Raivis frowned at the cutting board and tried to peer at the chef out of the corner of his eye. She must have thought that he was such a coward. Raivis was trying so hard to change himself, to become more confident and function around normal people, but his nervousness and insecurity made it difficult; he felt himself becoming more and more intimidated by the second in this strange place. He had to try to be strong. Talk to her. Make some sort of effort to communicate, and show her you’re not afraid.

It was dangerous, he knew, but Raivis did what he had to- he opened his mouth.

“I’m really sorry!” he told her, talking quickly in a slightly louder voice than normal. “It’s just that the last time I held a knife, I almost cut a finger off, and the last time someone else held a knife like that so close to me, they almost cut one off for me too! I’m sure you’d never do something like that on purpose, though, Ma’am, but after seeing what you did to that potato, I'm just kind of nervous. I don't mean to seem like such a wimp, but you see, I have a hard time trusting people, especially from other countries- ah! Not that I mean to be racist or anything! Please don’t take it personally! I really do like seeing people from all over the world here, even if their accents are funny, and I don't always understand what they're saying. I must have a funny accent too, huh? I know it’s going to take a while for me to get used to this place, but I’ll try my best to adjust quickly, so please don’t get impatient with me!”

As soon as he was finished, Raivis groaned inwardly, feeling sweat run down the back of his neck. The reason he was so terrified of talking was that his mouth had the tendency of running ahead of his brain, and this had often had painful consequences in the past. At least he had blurted it all out without stuttering. Raivis wasn’t sure how much of an accomplishment this was, though, especially when his body was still quivering out of his control like it was as the lady stared at him.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary waited for some sort of response when the potatoes were finished. She could feel when he had tensed, how his muscles had wanted to stop moving all together, but she had forced him. Because if the poor thing couldn't chop a potato then he needed to learn. She wondered if he had ever cooked anything for himself and scoffed at the idea. Any parent who didn't at lest teach their child how to cook for themselves shouldn't be gifted with them at all. She had a hard time believing that people who didn't actually cook at all really existed. Cooking had been a constant joy in her life, and now that it was part of her livelihood she very much enjoyed her job. There was no way she could sit there and let this kid get away with working in her kitchen and not knowing what to do. She might have to request this boy for her assistant again. If he couldn't do such a simple task, Maria was sure she could do him a lot of good.

But he refused to speak, he just whimpered helplessly as she forced his hands down, and looked at the now evenly sliced potato. She couldn't see his face, he was taller than her and she had to angle her head over his shoulder to see anything, let alone his face. She could see a bit of his face from where she was if she angled her self more, and shover her face in his, but she felt that might be a little to much of a breech in personal space. She'd already manhandled him significantly, he might just start crying and run off if she pushed him any farther. So Maria waited, wondering if the flood gates were going to open or if the young man would run.

It was the flood gates that happened. Mary felt him tense up involuntarily, she was close enough to feel enough of that at least, and then his mouth opened and words were just tumbling out mush faster than she could understand. His accent was strange, and it made it difficult to understand what he was trying to tell her. She probably would have had a hard time with it normally, but with his mouth running a mile a minute there was no way she could keep up, so she didn't much bother. The way he spoke blight that he was incredibly nervous and edgy, something that his body action had already confirmed to her. As he continued she tended to catch a few things here and there, but they did little to make any sort of cohesive thought. She let him continue without any interruptions, thinking that it would calm him somewhat and she seemed to be right.

Once he had finished his form visibly sagged and he stared at the little potato chunks in a way that made Mary feel that he was very much a kicked puppy. Trying to be reassuring she patted his shoulder and twirled around to face his front, leaving the knife in the young males hands.

"That is how you should speak mijo! Speak your mind! Even if your mouth runs off with you. Talk with umph like that all the time and I'll think about listening to you next time!" She smiled back at him, an accomplished look on her face.

"Even though your all in a tizzy, you chopped that potato. Not by yourself, but your body knows how to do it again. Bet if you try again it'll be easy. And the more you do it, the better you'll be! I'll keep a close eye so that nothing happens."

She looked at him for a few minutes bristling with confidence that she hoped he would pick up, but she couldn't be sure if it had done any good.

After a time Mary moved back to the stack of potatoes and grabbed another one. She took another knife and made quick work of peeling it and placed it in front of the male. "Do it again, mijo."

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Fri Dec 03, 2010 4:55 am

Raivis held the knife weakly in one hand and stared at the chef as she came up before him and started yelling at him. Well…it wasn’t really yelling –more like forceful, excited talking– but it was loud.

He had to clutch the knife with both hands when she implied that she hadn’t been listening, and his face dropped in disappointment. He hung his head miserably as she spoke to him with encouragement in her voice.

Even though he knew she meant well, what she was asking him to do was close to torture. He didn’t want to hold this knife; he didn’t want her first impression of him to be that he was a disaster in the kitchen, totally useless and helpless. He had barely even touched a raw potato until now. Before he knew it, there was another bare tater in front of him, and the lady was watching him expectantly.

My body knows how? He doubted it. Without her hand around his, Raivis was a clumsy mess, holding the slippery potato with an unsteady grip and grasping the knife awkwardly in the other. They both moved forward and back as he tried to keep both hands still. Not knowing how else to keep the potato in place, the boy dug his nails into it, feeling its hard flesh press painfully against his skin. He knew it probably wasn’t the right way to do things and that his nails were short, but at least it kept it from sliding around the board quite so much…at least until he tried to bring the knife down on it. Raivis’ fingers quivered and slipped, the knife nicking one of them and then slicing crookedly through the potato. The smaller half of the spud went flying off the cutting board and disappeared somewhere under the stove. Raivis stared at the knife and his bleeding finger for a moment in silent shock and mortification. Then, his lip trembled, and he began to sputter.

“I-I’m sorry!” he cried.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary rolled her eyes. This child was really very jumpy and he obviously had no self confidence or control. That was no way for a man to act as far as she was concerned. How was he to run a house hold and be a reliable husband one day if he couldn't have confidence in slicing a small, unimposing potato? No, what he needed was a strong, imposing woman to not only put the fear of life in him, but also to get his life in order. That woman might just be her. Mary wasn't about to accept anything else, she'd whipped boys much smaller and punier into shape before. This wasn't going to be any different as far as she was concerned.

She set her face into a disappointed, yet motherly look and placed her hands on her hips. She wasn't taking no for an answer simply because this little boy was afraid of hurting himself. Either he'd get better with the knife or he'd lose a finger. Then he'd really get better with the knife. "Well? Go clean it off and get back to work. It's only a nick, and working in here you'll be lucky if that's the worst you get! Now stop being clumsy and wash off that cut. There's a first aid kit under the far sink. Get to it while I peal the rest of these potatoes."

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Thu Jan 13, 2011 12:01 am

Raivis frowned at the chef miserably. He hadn’t expected her to fuss over him, but a tiny bit of concern would have been appreciated. Instead, she was ordering him to take care of his cut and go right back to doing what had caused this injury in the first place. The wound really wasn’t that bad, not nearly as deep as Raivis had feared when he had felt the blade slice though his skin, but the intern hated the sight of blood, no matter how small, and it took another moment of fear and self-pity before he could get himself to move in the direction of the first aid kit the woman had indicated.

Treating himself was easy. Raivis had suffered much worse at the hands of his foster father, so he spotted the right ointment and appropriately sized bandage right away. After he had fixed himself up, he glanced back at the chef reluctantly, not in a hurry to go back to doing her bidding. Part of him considered sneaking out while her back was turned and coming up with an excuse later, but his fear of authority was so strong that he found himself rooted in place. Raivis always did what he was told, no matter how much he hated the idea of it.

He dragged his feet a bit as he made his way back towards her. The speed and ease of her potato-peeling still impressed him, and Raivis wondered how long it had taken her to get that good. Her comment about the worse injuries that would surely come from working here put him on edge. He really would like to keep all of his fingers, thank you. Just the thought of more blood made his stomach churn. Maybe this kind of work really wasn’t suited to him at all.

He approached the chef, trying to raise his voice and make himself clearer, but he couldn’t help but shake slightly as he stuttered.

“Um, ma’am?” he started, unsure if how to convince her to let him go. “I-I’m really sorry. I know you’re very b-busy and need a lot of help, but I don’ think I’m very…very good at this, so if it’s okay, can I just…go back to looking for my keys? Please?”

He tried not to sound like he was begging, but it was hard to keep the whine out of his voice. He’d give anything to avoid another sharp knife getting close to his skin, and it didn’t matter if the chef though he was a coward…as long as she actually listened to him this time.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Fri Jan 14, 2011 10:28 pm

After dropping Mr. Carriedo off at the Group therapy, Angelique had been as stealthy as possible, rushing to get to the kitchen without being spotted. This meant, that she'd been unable to stop at the lounge, or even the bathroom to give herself a once over. She knew her hair had to be a tangled mess by now, and she made a mental note to braid it tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Oh god, the very idea that she would have to be back here tomorrow was terrifying. She tried to remind herself, as she slipped down one hall, head down, practically pressed against the wall, that the money was good, and it wouldn't be so bad once she got into the kitchen.

She knew her way around a kitchen, she could cook, for the most part, and she wouldn't be running back and forth. Stopping just in front of the door to the kitchen, rather amazed she hadn't caught the attention of another nurse or patient, or someone. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the door and pushed, walking in.

Her eyes locked on Miss Castillo, her actual boss, and then on the blond boy, who looked around her age. She didn't recognize him, and decided it didn't much matter. What mattered, was that her boss know it wasn't her fault she was late, and didn't fire her.

Crossing the kitchen with quick strides, belying her mild exhaustion from all the running she'd been doing, she stopped next to the blond. “Miss Castillo?”

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary listened slightly to what the boy had to say, but never turned to face him. She'd be damned if he got away that easy. His complaining was wasted, as far as she was concerned. All of this was really in his own interest, there was no way he'd ever go anywhere if he was this flustered about simple tasks. Mary was about to turn and reprimand him when someone else called her name, someone who sounded much more familiar. Mary whirled around and found her adorable little new hire, Angelique. The poor think looked rather unkempt, but that was not of any great importance. She'd escaped the clutches of the nurses, and here she was, ready to work. Mary couldn't help but smile at that, sure that Angelique had already had a trying morning as well.

"I'm happy to see you, Angelique, late or not. But the next time it happens I might not be so forgiving! Now, as you can see we have a new friend here. Do me a favor and give this boy some direction, goodness knows he needs it. I trust you know your way around a kitchen, right? You're in charge of the potatoes, both mashed and fried. Get to it!"

She patted Angelique on the shoulder in a reassuring way, and offered her a warm smile before turning to start chopping vegetables. She trusted that Angelique could handle some small unimposing little boy. She was woman, after all.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Fri Jan 21, 2011 7:41 am

She wasn’t going to listen to him. Raivis could tell by the way she wouldn’t even turn around to take what he was saying seriously. He hung his head low, subconsciously tip-toeing his way to the door. She wouldn’t chase him if he ran for it, right? He could always get halfway down the hall and then just pretend he didn’t hear here if she called out after him…but even as he plotted this in his head, he knew he didn’t actually have the gall to do it. And it sure wouldn’t do him any good to lose his job if a superior staff member became unhappy with him. Raivis stood there, trembling, waiting for another lecture that he was sure was coming, when suddenly, the door burst open.

Raivis jumped, startled by the sound and turned his head to see…an angel. An angel with disheveled hair and a tired face, but an angel none the less. She was a beautiful girl; Raivis could see that even if her current appearance disguised it slightly, but the thought that she might take his place here and give him an easy way out made her his savior. He managed a nervous smile in her direction and turned back to look at the cook hopefully. However, it seemed luck really was not with the boy today, and even the heaven-sent one wasn’t going to fix that.

He opened his mouth to protest when “Miss Castillo” told the new girl, Angelique, to guide him, but he thought better of it. At least if there was another person with him, the job would get done faster and he’d finally be able to leave. The intern knew he’d never be able to look at another potato after this was over. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, fighting back a blush. It would be nice if the whole institute didn’t think he was a coward, so he tried his best to look confident and nodded shyly in the girl’s direction.

“Nice to meet you…My name’s Raivis.”

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Sun Feb 06, 2011 6:02 am

She'd nearly jumped when Miss Castillo turned so quickly. Her expression dropping to one of fear when the woman mentioned the 'not be[ing] so forgiving' the next time around. In Angelique's mind that meant 'if you're late again, you'll be fired'. As much as Angelique had wished she hadn't taken this job earlier, she wasn't willing to risk losing it! She needed the money, so very, very, badly. She didn't want to end up as a waitress again. The tips were horrible, and it was hard to keep up sometimes. Not to mention, to keep from slapping unruly customers, [s]or loudmouthed co-workers[/s].

She nodded, instantly, when the order was given. “Yes, Ma'am!” Her eyes slid away from Miss Castillo, as she turned back around, and over to the boy. Blond, and looking to be around the same age as herself, he looked so nervous. It was almost cute, she gave him a weary smile, and motioned for him to follow her, as she moved back towards where the potatoes were.

“My name is Angelique, C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Raivis.” As they moved to stand before the potatoes, she grabbed a peeler, and a knife, handing the peeler to him. He looked about to start shaking, and there was less chance of him cutting himself with the peeler than an actual knife. She picked up one potato, and began to slice the skin from it as quickly as she could, without risk of cutting herself. “You do know how to use that, oui?”

((Translations;
C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Raivis. - It's a pleasure to meet you, Raivis.))

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Thu Mar 10, 2011 9:51 am

Raivis resigned himself to his fate as a potato-chopping slave and followed the girl over towards the counter where the accursed spuds were waiting for them. She introduced herself, and Raivis was surprised to hear that her name did indeed sound angelic. Angelique. He had never met someone with such a beautiful name before, and he found himself smiling a bit despite the nervousness he felt. His face fell again, however, the moment he was offered the potato peeler. He took it with a trembling hand and stared at it as if it were some foreign object never before known to man. By the time he was done gawking, Angelique already had a naked potato in her hand. He jumped a bit in surprise. Was everyone here some kind of potato-peeling master?! Being practically useless in the kitchen, Raivis was easily impressed. He stared at the potato as the girl spoke, and when he realized that no, he hadn’t a clue how to use this thing because he had never handled one before, he felt his cheeks burn self-consciously. He gripped the cooking tool tightly, trying to hide his fear and embarrassment the best he could. This was still only his first day- he didn’t want everyone here thinking he was a wimp the way the chef surely did by now. This was a chance for him to start over- to make other people think he was a stronger person on the outside than he felt like within.

“Of course,” he managed to choke out without stuttering.

That alone was quite and accomplishment. His hand had even stopped shaking to boot! The confidence he had started to build diminished quickly, though, as soon as Raivis ran the blade over the potato with barely a nick to the spud’s brown skin. He frowned at it and tried again, slicing harder and faster this time, but to no avail. It only snagged and took out a small chunk in the middle of his target as Raivis grunted in frustration. There has to be some kind of trick to this…He tried angling the blade a bit so it wasn’t flat and scraped at the potato again. This time, he got a nice long strip of brown skin, revealing the off-white flesh underneath. He looked up at Angelique with more triumph in his eyes than intended and peeled the potato some more, dropping the shavings onto the cutting board. It was slow-going at first as he struggled to get the hang of the motion, but wow, he had done it, and for the first time since Raivis had entered the kitchen, he felt the warm glow of pride within him- the pride that came from finally getting something right.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary had just finished chopping the mushrooms and carrots when she heard Raivis state boldly that he did know what a potato peeler was. She almost giggled at it. Mary had her suspicions that he actually didn't, and if the fumbling he could hear after words was any indication than she had perhaps been correct in that assumption. But after what sounded like an initial slip up Mary started to hear the soft shearing sound and the occasional clatter of the potato peeler.

She gathered up the vegetables and moved to the stove, where she had some pots boiling. She deposited the vegetables in their respective areas, and stole a glance at the young pair. Raivis, for the first time, actually looked pleased. He was getting the hang of peeling, and the accomplishment that simple task gave him was written all over his face. That, had been her exact intention, and seeing that it had been successful, Mary allowed a smile to spread across her face as she headed off to the walk in fridge.

So the idea she'd had of making Angelique teach him had been a success so far. It was fairly obvious that the young thing had a lot more patience than Mary herself did, and it didn't hurt that Angelique was a young, attractive woman. Besides, Angelique had a passive sort of personality that seemed to blend with the fidgeting little Raivis. Mary had always been fiery, to the point, and abrasive at best. Angelique seemed more like water, adaptable and calm.

It could all be her imagination, these assumptions weren't honestly helping anything, but the thought was one that confirmed to Mary that she had made the proper decision in heiring young Angelique.

Convinced at her own ability to judge character and she she had made a wonderful choice, Mary grabbed the beef she was going to prepare for the coming meal and wandered out of the kitchen humming to herself softly.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Sun Apr 17, 2011 10:39 am

(continued from Group Therapy)

Lovino’s heart beat fiercely in his chest as he dashed down the halls of the asylum. The guards were already hot on his trail, though Lovino had managed to lose them during the initial part of the chase. It hadn’t been too difficult- the Italian was twice as fast when he was terrified, and now that he had fled the scene, the only thing left to do was to decide where to go. Fuck… What had he done? His behavior wouldn’t go unpunished, he knew. He had to hide and figure out a way to get out of this place. Not that there’s fucking anywhere to go. Inside or out, Lovino was still trapped.

His eyes darted to the left and right desperately. Lovino felt pathetic. He was running away, just like the rat that brat had called him. Lovino had wanted to turn around and punch the kid, but of course, escape had been much more important at the time. His retreat from group therapy had been successful, but he didn’t have a damn clue what to do next. What would happen to him if he left the asylum? Would they send someone to track him down and drag him back? Would the Carriedos possibly take him in again? Would he be able to find…Toni? He couldn’t forget the face of the man he had left behind in the room.

Dammit…It wasn’t Toni! It couldn’t have been! The man he knew would never act like that! He wouldn’t hurt people, he wouldn’t lose control of himself…and Lovino had never seen anyone break down and cry the way he had. He denied having down such things himself. But then, no one except Toni had ever held him the way that man had either. His voice- it had been so familiar, but the man who looked like Toni had never once said his name, so how could the Italian be sure it was really him? Just a trick, Lovino thought, though he was starting to believe that less and less.

The Italian could hear voices down at the end of the hall. The footsteps behind him also told him that his pursuers weren’t far away. His only option left was to open one of these doors and hide in a room. As he tried to enter the nearest one, though, he turned the knob only to find it locked.

“Shit!” he hissed and tried another. No luck. The voices were getting louder now, and Lovino was growing more and more panicked. The intense pain in his useless wrist was distracting and made the situation so much worse. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as his eyes leaked with fresh tears. Dammit, dammit, dammit…

Finally, he reached a larger door further down and shoved his way in, closing the door swiftly behind him and staring wide-eyed at the space before him as the aroma of cooking vegetables reached him. He had found the kitchen, and there were people here, staring back at him after his rather sudden entrance.

One was a blonde boy, small and fragile-looking. He appeared to be even weaker than Lovino himself, though Lovino was still wary of him as a stranger. The boy was holding a disgusting-looking potato that Lovino immediately wrinkled his nose at, reminded of the nasty dishes and potato-infested sides he had been served before during his stay here- part of the reason why he was still so damn skinny. His stomach twisted with nervousness and disgust. He had to get out of this place. Before he could turn around, and make another retreat, though, he locked eyes with the one other person in the room- a young lady with black pigtails and a very familiar face. Lovino suddenly realized that he recognized her from earlier that day. Angelique!

He stared at the girl uncertainly for a moment before the voices in the hall reached his ears once again and his mind snapped back to attention. He had to hide. Not seeing any other way out, he bolted for the only other door in the room. Fucking mistake. Now sooner had the Italian rushed through the doorway that he crashed into another person standing in there, knocking the meat she was holding right out of her hands. Lovino cried out loudly and stumbled away, gripping his wrist that had been sandwiched between them during the collision. He closed his eyes and bumped into something hard behind him- it felt like a shelf- and losing his balance and coordination, he fell down to his knees. Damn, that had hurt! He winced and squinted from his position on the floor. Looking around, he found himself faced with rows of shelves stacked with food- a freakin’ storage room.

“Fuck!” he whimpered, and shrank towards the corner of the room, clutching his injury lightly. He gazed up at the short Hispanic woman he had ran into with wide, terrified eyes. Usually he felt more comfortable around women, but this person had an air of authority that would have intimidated Lovino even if he hadn’t currently been a fugitive. What would happen now? The Italian didn’t have a fucking clue what to do. This time, he really was out of options.

Posts : 24 Join date : 2010-11-15

Mary was humming to herself softly. She’d set up some tin foil on one of the shelves inside the pantry, and had wiped her hands off on her apron, before turning to the back end of the pantry. She usually kept the spices on the higher selves, which generally was a pain. Usually she would have someone significantly taller than she was go get the various spices and fresh seasonings she needed. But today was different. She had her two new employees – Raivis included, as far as she was concerned, because she’d already sunk her claws into him and there was no way she was letting him go that easily – working up front together. And to her absolute delight, they seemed to be getting along quite well. It was a relief, to some extent. Raivis was a cowardly thing at best, he certainly didn’t look the type to stand much chance around here if one of the more violent patients showed up. The boy probably wouldn’t realize it till much later – if he realized it at all, he didn’t quite look the bright type – that she had done him a huge service by keeping him in her kitchen. Despite not knowing him very long, Mary was sure that he would need some extra help in this business, and even if she wasn’t able to keep him here indefinitely, this would be a sort of sanctuary for him. Or, at least as long as Angelique was here. Mary smiled knowingly at that one. Oh, she was too good to them, really she was.

Despite how wonderful of a matchmaker she saw herself to be, the fact that both were enthralled with one another left Mary on her own when retrieving the spices from one of the top shelves. It was a pain, to say the least, but one she would forgo to give her new employees a little bit of space and alone time.

At first she looked up at the offending shelf and huffed slightly at it. Since no one was looking, she balanced on her toes for a second. She checked her bearings and placed an extra hand on one of the other shelves to steady herself before looking up once more. She huffed louder to herself and swayed back onto her heals once more. Even on the tips of her toes she wasn’t tall enough to even attempt grabbing at the garlic and basil that she wanted to get at. She glared slightly at the shelve once more, and pursed her lips for effect, before turning around again.

Somewhere she had a stool that she often used to obtain these sort of things, but the last time she’d used it she didn’t remember where she’d put it. She searched around the small area, sure that it had somehow hidden itself behind something. Sure enough, when she moved over a large jug of tomato paste she found it sitting there forlornly, a thin layer of dust on it.

She was bending over, reaching for it when the door to the pantry opened. The sound was a jerking, frantic sort of motion. Not one that she would have expected from someone that belonged here. It wasn’t something she’d initially been able to pick up on, but a few years working in the asylum had made her pick up on the smallest hints of force, agitation, and fear. Such a simple action as the opening of that door told her right of the bat that this was someone who wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Either someone who was going to corner her, or was running from something. Mary assumed the worst. She was whirling around, shoulders squared and imposing aura at its highest use when whoever it was slammed into her. Mary had been prepared for an assault of some sort, and despite being larger than her, she didn’t give much. When he slammed into her she doubled backwards a few steps, but once she got a hold on him, she used the momentum he had to shove him back off of her.

This boy - now that she could see it certainly was a boy, one in a man’s clothing perhaps, but still a boy – was certainly larger than her, but she had had a few close calls in her time, and he was nothing in comparison to those ones. He took her in with wide terrified eyes, and as she glowered down at him he shrunk in on himself. He backed into a corner as best he could, covering one of his hands as if it was injured.

He was out of options, and he knew it. This boy was now in her territory, and she had every right to do what she liked with him. But he was so frightened; his eyes were watery and uncertain. He was confused, and probably horribly disoriented, but really he didn’t look like any harm to her. Perhaps she was getting cocky in her age, but he was far from what she would call intimidating.

With a calm grace that she had perfected over the years, Mary moved towards the door of the pantry, and leaned against it. She saw the boy shrinking away from her again, but was not entirely surprised. What was it with the skittish ones today?

Once she had angled herself between the boy and the door, she turned to him with that imposing look in her eye.

“Boy, whats your name, and what are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question. An order was a more accurate description of it.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Tue Jun 07, 2011 9:25 pm

Raivis was cute, in that kicked puppy kind of way. Angelique just wanted to give him a hug, and tell him he would be okay. She just didn't know if he would take that all that well. So, instead, she gave him a reassuring smile, and went about starting to peel potatoes on her own. Just like she'd been taught years ago by her mother. When he looked up, looking so very proud, she had to bite back a giggle, and kept her smile in place.

So busy watching Raivis as he fumbled and got the hang of peeling a potato, Angelique hardly noticed anything that Miss Castillo did. In fact, she was so busy focusing on Raivis, and the familiar rhythm of peeling potatoes, Angelique jumped when one of the patients came bursting into the room.

The potato and knife she held both fell to the floor. One with a wet thud, and the other with a clatter. She was wide-eyed as she looked at the patient, remembering him from the Group Therapy room. He looked at her long enough for recognition to flash through his features, and then he was gone, nearly knocking Miss Castillo over in the process of getting into the pantry.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, much to the Seychellois horror. As Miss Castillo leaned against the door and stared down at Mr. Vargas. Angelique heard the voices outside, footsteps, most likely an orderly or two, she was a bit too focused to really pay attention to the number of footsteps.

Crossing the room to the pantry, she hovered near Miss Castillo for a moment, then ducked forward, not passing Miss Castillo, but making sure she was seen. Mr. Vargas had not struck her as dangerous, and he looked so frightened, sitting in the pantry, curled up like a terrified child. He clutched his wrist, and she had a feeling it might be hurt. “U-um, excusez-moi, Mademoiselle Castillo, mais je le connais pas.”

She raised her hands to let Mr. Vargas know she didn't have anything on her that could be used to hurt him, and very slowly inched forward, ready to jump back at a moment's notice, but wanting to get closer so she could at least take a look at his wrist, “M-Mr. Vargas, I'm not sure if you rememebr me, we spoke just a little bit ago, my name's Angelique...”

((Translations -
Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle Castillo, mais je le connais pas. - Excuse me, Miss Castillo, but I do know him. ))

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Fri Jun 17, 2011 11:29 am

Raivis was feeling very proud of himself as he showed Angelique his successfully peeled potato. Maybe he’d be able to do it even faster next time! Angelique’s smile was making him blush too, and the boy was trying to think of something to say when suddenly, the door burst open and a stranger ran into the room. Angelique dropped her potato and knife on the floor loudly, but Raivis just froze, holding his prized spud tightly with one hand as he stared at the intruder. It was a man, not very tall and awfully skinny. It seemed like his clothes were a bit too big for him and hanging off of his frame slightly. His hazel eyes were wide and afraid, much like Raivis’ own at the moment. He was grasping one of his wrists and wearing an I.D. band around the other that gave him away as a patient. Was he a psycho that had come to kill them all?! Raivis squeaked and instinctively hid behind Angelique as the man glared at him (or was it at the potato?). The small blonde looked around the kitchen frantically, wondering where the rest of the knives were. That was sure to be this assailant’s choice of weapon. The patient didn’t seem to be interested in stabbing them, though. Instead, he ran for the storage room, where the cook was. Raivis opened his mouth to should a warning, but no sound came out. Angelique moved towards the door ahead of him, and Raivis put his potato down on the counter and followed her cautiously, clutching his potato peeler for safety.

There had been a thump after the stranger had disappeared into the room, and, peeking warily around Angelique, Raivis saw what appeared to be the results of a collision. The patient was huddled in the corner of the room on the floor, looking up at Miss Castillo with fear in his eyes. Raivis didn’t blame him- the cook was scary- but it seemed like the man was frightened in general, of something that had nothing to do with anyone in the kitchen. What could have happened to him?

Now that Raivis was closer and over his initial shock, he could see that the man was cradling his hand very protectively against his chest. He saw the swollen skin and knew right away what kind of injury it was- a sprained wrist, or maybe even a broken one. Most likely caused by a bad fall. Raivis had experienced it himself, twice, both when his adoptive father had thrown him to the ground in a drunken rage. The blonde shuddered, not envying the man’s pain. Angelique was talking to him now. It seemed like she knew the man. Raivis leaned back slightly, trying to remember what you were supposed to do for sprains. R.I.C.E.- rest, ice, compression, elevation… Quietly, he slipped back into the main part of the kitchen again and began looking for the first aid kit.

Subject: Re: The Asylum Kitchen Sat Jun 25, 2011 6:16 pm

The Italian’s back pressed against the shelves in the corner of the room as the woman loomed over him. He was terrified and still in a lot of pain. Lovino cradled his arm protectively against his chest and gritted his teeth in frustration and anger when she addressed him as “boy.” He wasn’t just some brat, dammit! He was twenty-three years old! Lovino couldn’t stand being talked down to or treated like a child, even if he acted like one sometimes. In response to her question, he muttered a barely audible “fuck you.” The Italian trembled, expecting some kind of punishment for his brash conduct, when suddenly, Angelique appeared and approached him.

Lovino’s heart skipped a beat- both from relief at seeing the familiar face once again and also anxiety since he would now have to face her and probably be forced to explain himself and how he had gotten there. He leaned away from her, watching her warily. Hearing her call him “Mr. Vargas” was a good start as far as settling his nerves went, but he still found it hard to relax. Usually Lovino was not much one for formality, but it was still better than being called anything demeaning. He also saw her empty hands a sign that she wasn’t going to try to threaten or control him and let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He still wasn’t sure if he could trust her completely, but he could at least listen to her without shaking so much. In the back of his mind, he was still afraid this could all be a trap. Angelique was part of the staff after all, and her duty to her job came before anything to do with him. In response to her question, he nodded hesitantly.

“Y-yeah…I remember.”

He didn’t dare say anything else. Whatever was going to happen to him, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He could only guard himself the best he could and hope that he got out of this without further pain or trauma. Please…please don’t make me go back.