The Rec Room

There's always something happening in a place like this one. Accordingly, Kristoffer's job had the potential to be hectic and taxing, on some days. That wasn't always the case, though. There could be slow-paced times with little trouble, as well, such as this one.

In such times, Kristoffer would gravitate towards quiet. It brought him to patients he did not usually see in situations that required him: mediating fights and the like. This tactic was meant to help him get an idea of the patients who didn't demand attention, but today it brought him to the usually-sociable Francis.

Perhaps this was a problem, or perhaps the man finally wanted a moment of peace. Curious over this matter, Kristoffer quietly made his way into the room and had a seat next to him, and idly paged through a magazine without paying a bit of attention to it.

"How's it going, Francis?"

Mathias would normally be shut up in his room or sitting in the cafeteria, eating anything vaguely tasty, but today, after a rather long nap, he's on his way to the rec room to watch some TV. Granted, it'll probably be some boring show without any action or gore or anything, but at least it's TV. He is, after all, just a regular guy with some episodes.

That's what he tells himself, but he can't help the pang of depression and anger at the fact that he's stuck here.

He settles on the couch nearest the TV, not even glancing at Francis and Kristoffer. He would say hi to them, but he doesn't really feel like it.

"Yup. 'snice." He nodded at Francis's observation. Talking to him, just for short intervals of time, is always interesting. Informative, even. Kristoffer didn't speak a lick of French, but it was easy enough to learn from context, and he was even picking up a bit of it just from paying attention. Some basic phrases, as well as, on occasion, some choice words he'd probably never use unless a Frenchman happened to really set him off. Mathias, he left alone for the time being, offering only a wave and a bland "hey," seeing as the man wasn't exactly looking to be in a talkative mood.

"Mm-hmm, probably. If you're lookin' at somethin' 'sides ceiling, that is." His eyes scanned the room for a short moment, just to double-check that everything was where he recalled it being, then went back to the magazine in his hands. It was full of pictures of women modeling the latest fashions. They looked disquietingly false, and he rummaged around on the side table for an outdoor hobby magazine, or something of the sort.

Mathias listened to their quiet conversation halfheartedly, pouting a bit at the TV. There was nothing on. They censored the TV way too much for anything except children shows and some harmless sitcoms.

"Hey. Um."

He would ask why Francis was staring at him, but he would rather not know. Mathias was friends with the Frenchman, true, but it was a little weird to be told that there was something around that didn't really exist.

"How are you guys doing?"

Forget being antisocial. He was too bored for that.

"Doin' fine, Mathias. 'S a nice day." He lowered his magazine to give the patient a curt wave. Kristoffer was familiar with his predicament, having seen just how terrible the selection of television channels was the first few times he got the idea to slack off during his shift and watch something with the patients.

"Sorry the TV sucks. I've been tryin' to get 'em to put a movie channel on there or somethin' decent."

"It does kind of suck. I mean, I get it, but it sucks."

Mathias stands, stretching, and sighs as his back cracks satisfyingly.

"There's nothing going on today, is there? No activities or anything?"

He's gotten to that point. His boredom is immense enough that he would consider actually going to the therapy he never went to- after all, he was normal, at least in his mind. Mathias considered himself above the others, at least a little bit. Unlike poor Francis, he...he didn't see things that didn't exist.

"Might actually go if there is one."

He should have went to the group therapy. Should have went to his doctor. Maybe he should have stayed in his room, attempting to sleep the day away. No, he decided to skip therapy, dismiss his doctor, and venture from his assigned room. He didn't like it here one bit, the person roomed next to him was too loud, seemed to have night terrors. How was he expected to sleep atnight with that screaming its head off? He had no idea.

Pushing open a door, Christof looked around, clutching the pen and notebook he had, and went inside of the room. Looking at the sign, it read 'Recreational Area'. So, it was the Rec Room he had heard two of the nurses talking about the other day. All was quiet, no one there, and Christof liked it. This was how it should be. Nice, and quiet. Going over to one of the chairs, the mute sat down in it, clicking his pen a few times. He leaned back, reclining in the chair, and stared at the ceiling. The blond closed his eyes, letting out a loud breath through his nose, and reopened them. 

He heard voices, footsteps, too. Were they coming to reprimand him? Was he not supposed to be here at this time? He wasn't doing anything wrong, nor did he see a sign that said specific hours. So, he should be safe.. Right? Gulping, the German started to write in his notebook, drawing his name in Diploma type font. He moved his hand precisely, keeping the nib at certain angles, and silently prayed that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He had only been there for what, a few weeks at the most? Christof didn't want to get in trouble this early, he didn't want to even get into trouble at all! 

Christof listened to the voices stop in front of the Rec Room door, the footsteps having stopped, and waited for the actions of the others. He could make out muffled words such as 'Medication', 'Creepy', 'Patient', and then lastly a 'Good-bye'. The footsteps soon started again, leading away from the room, and Germania smiled to himself. Now he didn't have to worry, to say in the least, since he didn't hear anyone else coming down the hall.

Marcus had been bored out of his skull being in his room reading all day. Perhaps now was time for him to stretch his legs, and perhaps talk to the other patients? Well there were some patients that he did know already but, there were always new faces to get to know. Heading down the long hallway the dark haired man smiled at a few nurses, and then headed into the large recreational room. His amber eyes scanning the people he decided to take a seat near the television. It was at that moment his gaze fell upon a quiet, stern, and rather pretty looking blonde haired man. A pretty man? Why with the way his hair was you would've thought he was a stand in for Lord of the Rings. Being usually out going the Italian man leaned forward, and tried to get the attention of the more serious looking fellow.

"Hey, hey there I'm Marcus!" He exclaimed trying to be friendly.

Christof didn't pay attention to the sound of someone else coming in, lest he be scolded if it were a nurse. He looked out of the corner of his eye, though, when he guessed that it was a patient, the other having sat down in a chair. The brown haired man.. Looked familiar, but Christof couldn't place it. He'd probably seen him around the place, group therapy, maybe.

Christof raised his head when the other spoke to him, blinking a few times. He raised an eyebrow and nodded to him, writing down his name.

'I'm Christof,' he wrote, 'it's nice to meet you.' He ended, holding it out to him. Christof fixed his hair, pushing it out of his face, and smiled some. He wanted to seem polite, right? No use in just having no facial expression what-so-ever.

Marcus had eyed the man curiously as he took a piece of paper to write on. Oh right, he was that mute fellow that he had seen before! Therapy sessions in a group with him were always odd, and he recalled the man never spoke. Of course Marcus had to laugh to himself as to how anyone could give help to a man who didn't talk. Then again he had never been one to try and understand many of the other patients. Not so much out of being a bastard but, he just was not too interested.

"Christof? That is a pretty cool name, it is a pleasure to meet you too. So, why are you in here all by yourself?" Might as well keep the conversation going the best he could. Though it was a little unnerving having someone who did not speak to you.

The german man eyed the other, slightly apprehensive. There was a reason he didn't like being alone with other patients, he didn't trust any one of them. Scooting back in his chair, Christof swallowed the saliva forming in his throat before drawing random symbols on his paper.

Why was he in here all by himself? Christof looked at Marcus, raising an eyebrow, before writing down his answer. I wanted peace and quiet. Didn't want to go to therapy, it's useless for me anyway. Very tedious. He wrote. Holdding up his notebook to the other, he waited for him to read it. After a few seconds, he pulled back the paper and wrote down a question. Why'd you come here? Bored? He held out the notebook again, licking his dry lips.

Marcus had always tried to go into these rooms precisely because he loved being around people. There was not a day that went by where he wasn't trying to talk someone's ear off. The older man supposed it was the curse of being an Italian; you talk and talk...and talk some more. A fact of life that usually drove people far and away from him. This man though he felt might tolerate him if even just a little bit, and that would have been a little appreciated.

"Yea, this place can get pretty boring you know? On top of the fact well the staff are really the only people you can really talk to ...uh well if you talk. I mean other than that I am afraid some of the patients will go Schizo on me." The brunette man ended the sentence with a chuckle, and then sat back more to get comfortable.

After ten minutes of more talking Marcus had finally decided to be quiet, and looked over towards the television. Resting his arms on the table he laid his head down on them, and focused his attentions on the program. Man, this guy didn't even talk much at all! It was talking to a brick wall he was pretty sure. Too bad he did not have telepathy or this would be so much easier. Glancing over after a moment he furrowed his brow and wondered, just wondered. Did the guy think he was annoying, did he not mind him, it was frustrating not knowing you know? Sighing he turned his head again to watch the sitcom that was showing, he had seen this one. All Marcus knew was that he hated the main guy, and the main woman was really not all that pretty.


"Got any kids?" Pretty simple question, harmless, and all that.

Marcus took the paper and slid it closer to get a better look at the writing. Nodding a bit he slid it back over towards Christof.
"Don't know? Yea, sometimes that happens you know so I can understand. Not that I'm saying you slept around or anything, but sometimes a girl doesn't tell you when you break up with her." The dark haired man scowled slightly at the end of that sentence. Not that he thought he had any kids he should be aware of, but all the same it irritated him how some women were; vindictive. Apparently the only women he knew from his former lifestyle were nothing but a bunch of vindictive, nasty, and rather unlady-like waifs. Maybe there would be some nice woman at this place, the nurses were hot some of them.

"I always thought if I had kids I'd want them to be boys. Girls are fine however I heard they are harder to raise." He chuckled a little bit.