Room 133 - Feliks' Room

Feliks, as essentially a charity case, has a simple room with few luxuries besides ample closet space. Since he’s not labeled a suicide risk, there are no limits to his permitted wardrobe, but it is kept locked and he must ask the staff to open it for him. He’s told it’s to make sure the other patients keep out, but Feliks knows they just want to force him to talk to them. He was provided with a few carefully chosen books, which he keeps in the nightstand. He finds them mostly boring, but reads them anyway to improve his English.

There was a quiet tapping at the door, before a voice called out, the accent possibly making it obvious which member of staff this was.

"Feliks? Are you awake yet?"

It was 8am, and the morning rounds for breakfast had already began. Of course, Toris had almost overslept and so his breakfast had consisted of stuffing a bread roll into his mouth as he slid his jacket on. Feliks' breakfast was different, here on the tray the wannabe-doctor-turned-nurse (hey, everyone had to start somewhere right?) was holding - some toast with marmalade portions, an apple, some orange juice, and on the catering tray he was pushing around, some black coffee.

"Feliks, I have your breakfast here..."

Feliks was laying stretched out on his back on the meager bed, his head resting on his folded arms. According to the cheap plastic clock screwed into the wall, he had already been awake for a couple hours. His room was windowless, save for a small square of opaque glass on the door to his room. This served as his only source of light at the moment. He could have switched on the overhead light, but no, then everyone would know he was awake and then they might not leave him alone. The darkness was well worth avoiding forced socialization in his mind. He contented himself to staying there on the bed for as long as he could get away with it, reflecting and elaborating on the fragments of his dreams that he could remember from the previous night.

He was startled out his daydreaming by the sound of a push cart outside his door. He saw the shadows of movement from underneath the door and he held his breath, his heart racing. The push cart meant breakfast and a staff member to accompany it, and the staff meant more counseling and therapy and trying to force him to take pills and interact with all the strangers and weirdoes they kept locked up in this place…!

When he heard the quiet knock and the voice from the other side, he heaved a sigh of relief. It was Toris, the one staff member he found himself able to stand. More than that, really, he actually liked Toris. His mood perked, Feliks hopped out of bed and bounded over to the door in his lavender cotton PJs. He smiled wide when he opened the door.

“Ah, Toris, it’s you!” His eyes fell on the tray. “Cool! I was hoping for something sweet today!” Well, the whole truth was he had been hoping for a pastry, but he could work with this. Feliks hit the light switch next to his door and stepped aside to let Toris enter.

The Lithuanian smiled back, watching him flip the switch.

"Ah, sorry... Were you sleeping? I know 8 is kind of early... How are you feeling today?"

He brought the tray into Feliks' room, placing it on the end of his bed - there wasn't much else to place it on in such a minimal room. Hesitating, he pulled out a small staff notebook and looked over it, before checking the notice stuck to the door - the medicine checklist. Although Feliks wasn't one of the 'worst' patients in the asylum, his social anxiety appeared to have been severe, and two medications were written down under his name, propranolol and paroxetine. These were both to control the Pole's symptoms and mental state, but he knew Feliks hated taking them. Toris supposed that if he really wanted to become a doctor, he'd better get used to getting patients to do things against their will.

Finally, he took out two small pill bottles from his pocket, placing them on the tray.

"You need to take those before you eat...? One of each... And I need to check your blood pressure, too..."

Toris was fond of Feliks, he had to admit. The hard part was that the blonde was growing on him, and Toris was finding it hard to treat him the same as the other patients. Maybe it was the fact that their home countries were neighbours; in this mismatched place, that made Toris feel a little more at home. In any case, he watched Feliks, hoping for him to take those pills without any resistance.

ooc: No idea if those pills are okay, I have anxiety disorder irl but I'm not on pills so I had to rely on google o3o

“No, I was awake, bro,” Felix replied. He sat down on the bed next to his tray while Toris was examining his papers. Felix wasn’t sure why he had clicked with Toris. Maybe it was because they were from similar backgrounds. Or maybe it was because Toris was so nice. And not nice in that fake “we’re just here to help you, now take your pills and go to group therapy” kind of way. He was actually genuinely nice.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still a staff member, though. And as such, Feliks knew there were some things Toris couldn’t help without losing his job. So when Toris took out the pill bottles, the look Feliks gave him wasn’t one of surprise, but it was an unhappy look nonetheless. Feliks begrudgingly opened the bottles and took out one out of each. He flashed the pills in his hand (so Toris could see he hadn’t taken more than he should) and popped them in his mouth before taking a swig of his orange juice. He just hoped Toris wouldn’t notice that he had stashed the pills on the side of his mouth, between his teeth and gums. Even if it was for Toris, Feliks really didn’t want to take those meds if he could avoid it.

"You were lying awake in the dark?" Toris looked concerned, going to write down something on his notebook before hesitating and stopping, putting his pen away.

The brunette watched Feliks take the pills, but perhaps not close enough as he didn't notice that the other male didn't swallow. Feeling a little bad, he smiled and thanked Feliks. He really wanted to tell the blonde that he didn't have to take them. but it was his job after all, and Toris had been taught that the pills would make Feliks better. He was just rather uncomfortable with making others do what he said, being used to being ordered around himself.

"Do you want me to leave while you eat your breakfast? I can come back soon? There's something I want you to try today, Feliks."

“Yo, it’s no big deal, yeah? It was peaceful.”

Feliks spotted a napkin with his breakfast tray. He didn’t want to leave the pills in his mouth too long lest they dissolve or Toris get suspicious. But how suspicious would it be if he spit into it just after taking his meds? He should try to eat something first. He picked up his toast and took a careful bite, chewing slowly, very mindful of the pills. He swallowed cautiously. So far, so good.

When Toris asked if he should leave, Feliks was conflicted. True, it would make it easier to get rid of the pills, but he enjoyed the company. Toris was the only company he enjoyed lately… “No, you can stay, bro! Unless you, like, have some more work to do or something….”

He nodded, finally putting away his notebook. He wasn't really taking notice of Feliks eating, instead he was going through his checklist of duties in his head. He seemed a little relieved at being asked to stay, and stood awkwardly near the door, feeling like he should be doing something. Feliks was the last patient on his round to receive breakfast from the food cart - like Toris had intended. He didn't want to rush his visit in case it made Feliks feel like he was avoiding him or anything. And so instead the young Lithuanian had set it up so that Feliks was last, more convenient, and he got to spend more time with his favourite patient - not that he should take favourites.

Thinking of Feliks as a patient was something he didn't like... that meant that one day Feliks would be released and Toris would probably never see him again. It made something feel uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach, perhaps nausea. He had been warned about getting too attached to patients.

"I'm done for now, it's my break after this..." He sounded tired, and took out a band from his pocket, tying back his hair, something he usually did when cleaning. As indicated, he headed back out the door, stacking up the trays on the cart and removing the trash into a bag at the side, before checking it over again and coming back in, closing the door behind him.

He glanced at Feliks again, and then the tray, noticing that not much had been eaten.

"I know the food here isn't the best... It's all mass ordered, we don't have any real cooks..." He frowned, looking a little frustrated, before adding, quietly. "I could cook better."

"It's better if you eat it though.."

Toris was probably the lone force in this place keeping Feliks from going mad. Well…more mad than they thought he already was. Not that Feliks really thought he had a problem. So he didn’t like being around people he didn’t know? What was the big deal about that? And as for that bipolar thing… They just didn’t feel as strongly as he did, that’s all. Is it a crime to get anxious or depressed? Especially in his situation? Feliks thought not.

He took the opportunity to spit the pills into his napkin when Toris turned his back. He stashed it under his mattress to flush later. He quickly returned to his previous position before Toris looked back, closing the door behind him.

“You cook?” Feliks asked, grabbing the apple to make the other happy. “Bro, you should make something for me sometime!” He took a big bite of the apple and chewed. It was sweet and the juice ran down the side of his mouth. Damn, he wished he had another napkin… He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand instead.

[ooc: Sorry for slow reply]

Toris seemed to light up when he was asked about the cooking. "Yes I do! I... really enjoy it, I like trying new things!" He grinned again. "I'd love to make something for you! What type of foods do you like?"

The brunette watched Feliks take a bite from the apple, noticing the mess it made, and rushed back to his trolley to fetch some more napkins, handing them to the blonde.

(ooc: No biggie ^^)

"Oh I like anything sweet, bro!" Feliks replied excitedly. "Cake or pastry would be, like, sooo cool if you could do it, Toris! It'd be nice just to have something other than the stuff they give us here."

He accepted the napkins and wiped his mouth properly. "Thanks," he replied, glad Toris didn't ask what happened to the previous napkin. He continued on with his breakfast, munching on his toast. "You sure the doctors won't get mad at you for being in here with me?"

Toris had been so scatter-brained recently it was so wonder he hadn't noticed the previous napkin missing - in fact, if he did he probably would have just assumed he'd forgot to place it there. Pressure from the psychiatrist he was training under, Doctor Braginski, seemed to be driving him a little mad himself.

"I can make those... I can bring some in next time I come in... i-if it's alright with my boss" He added, at the end. "I'm sure it will be..." Looking a bit fiddly for a moment, he quickly snapped out of it when Feliks spoke again.

"Ah... No, it's alright... This is my break-time for the morning right now..."

Feliks bristled at the mention of Toris' boss. Dr. Braginski was Feliks' doctor and the man was large and imposing and made Feliks especially nervous. He asked probing questions and made his assumptions and it was him who was making Toris give Feliks those horrible pills. He hated that doctor and the power he had over him in this hell-hole.

The mentioning of the doctor brought another unpleasant thought to Feliks’ mind. “I’m glad you’re spending your break with me. You didn’t have to do that, yeah?” He was silent for a minute while he pondered ruining the peaceful moment with his next question. Alas, he needed to know. “I have an appointment with the doctor, today, don’t I?”

Toris' green eyes, not too unlike Feliks', looked away, knowing that Feliks really hated Dr.Braginski, and he didn't want his newly found friend to have to see him if he could help it. "You do. At 3pm." He looked bad at him, noticing the change in expression on the blonde's face. "I-It's just an assessment, to see if the pills are working okay and everything, it'll be over before you know it..."

Hating to be the bringer of bad news, Toris attempted to change the subject back to their previous one, picking up a spare napkin and folding it up - an acquired nervous habit of his. "I like spending time with you... It takes my mind off things." Including hunger, he thought. He was, of course, sacrificing his breakfast meal to be here right now, but he'd grown used to skipping meals when he studied a lot back in Vilnius.

Feliks' face fell when he heard he was if fact, scheduled for an appointment. It was several hours away, but that seemed worse because now he had all day to dread it. He frowned, anxiety already building up in him. The doctor would somehow be able to tell he hadn't taken his pills, Felix knew it. Maybe he should take them after all...But they were all sticky and probably broken in the stashed napkin and what good would that do him?

He attempted to hide his fretting from Toris, resumming munching on his toast. "Yeah, I imagine any break from this place would be nice. Though if I were you, I'd probably want to use my break to get away for a bit. They have all kinds of crazy people here," he said, laughing a bit. "At least you get to go home at night, right?"

Feliks may have attempted to hide his fretting, but Toris could see through it pretty easily. He dealt with Dr. Braginski on a regular basis, after all - not as a patient, but as a student. It was obvious from the awkward atmosphere in the room at that moment that the intimidating Russian man wasn't the most well liked psychiatrist in the asylum.

Toris unfolded his napkin before folding it a different way, creating more creases. "Well... I don't mind being here with you. And... my home is a bus ride away and the staff room here isn't... too great." That, and he didn't want to bump into a certain doctor. He shrugged a little at the last question, gazing at his perfectly folded napkin again.

"Sometimes I do... a lot of the time it's so late when I finish my shifts I have to stay over... You know, so I'm not late for the morning?" Of course, he'd usually be unable to sleep, which was a possible attribute of his anxious disposition. Looking a little uncomfortable about the conversation, he moved awkwardly towards Feliks. "D-Do you mind if I sit down for a little?" He gestured at the bed, there didn't seem to be anywhere else to sit. Maybe he should have slept for just a little while last night, or so he thought from his lightheadedness.

"Ah, no of course not! Have a seat," Feliks said, realizing for the first time that Toris had probably been on his feet all morning. He scooted over and made room on the bed for Toris to sit. Feliks laughed a little nervously. "Yeah, I don't think I would want to hang out in the staff room either...The staff here sometimes seem crazier than the patients...Er, except you, of course."

His breakfast was mostly gone, just one last half a piece of toast and a bit of marmalade but he had had enough. He sipped idly on his orange juice and tried not to think about his appointment with the doctor later or any of the other "therapies" he was likely required to participate in that day. He tried to focus on something else to take his mind off of it and noticed Toris playing with a spare napkin. Well, not really playing with it so much as folding it over and over in a way that seemed too precise to be merely something to do with one's hands. "I've seen you play with napkins and paper like that before," Feliks said. "Do you do that a lot?"

"Thank you..." he responded, taking a seat and sighing a little. "I'm sorry though... it seems really rude of me..." Still, he silently agreed with Feliks. He didn't feel like he should comment in case someone was listening; which might not be all that unusual in a controlled environment like this. Shaking off his paranoia, he began to fiddle again with the napkin. At Feliks' question he looked up, seeming surprised.

"Umm... Yes, I do... I think it's just a... bad habit?" He wasn't sure how to describe it, or how it had become a nervous habit. It wasn't like it was his only one, either. Whatever kept him feeling sane, he supposed.

Feliks chuckled. "I'd hardly call that a bad habit, bro. I've seen far worse. It's more, like....a quirk maybe? It's kinda cute, actually." He smiled warmly at Toris, swinging his legs as they hung over the side of the bed. He was going to be depressed when Toris would eventually have to leave him to go back to work, but right now he was happy he was there and that he didn't treat him like he was sick like all the other staff members did. If Feliks had to pick his favorite thing about Toris, it would probably be that. He treated him like any normal person, with respect and kindness.

He grinned wider as another thought occured. "Ah, Toris, before you leave you can unlock my closet for me, yeah? I don't want to wear my PJs all day."

Toris blushed slightly at Feliks calling his undesired habit 'cute', finally putting the paper away in his shirt pocket, feeling a degree more self-conscious. The feeling about leaving was mutual, he wasn't looking forward to the lunch rush, or going around delivering more pills. Toris felt that made him seem like a bad guy to many of the patients, and he disliked that role. Still, his goal of becoming a doctor had to overcome his problems right now, and so he would tolerate anything and everything that came his way. Even if it meant occasionally yelling at himself in the confinement of his own room.

The brunette turned to Feliks as he asked the question, nodding and heading over to the closet. He pulled out some keys from inside his shirt, suspended on a long piece of string and wore around his neck at all times. There was a few different looking keys, the one to this closet was long and silver-coloured with a small white label, the number 9 written on it in a browning black ink. Inserting the key, Toris unlocked the closet, before heading back over to the bed, stopping short of it.

"Shall I leave you to get dressed now?" he asked, smiling politely. "Or is there anything you need?"

“No, you don’t have to leave,” Feliks said, hopping off the bed and walking over to his now unlocked closet. “I just wanted to get something for me to wear out of it while you were here. That way I don’t have to ask any of the other staff, yeah?” Most of Feliks’ clothes were expensive and fashionable things he’d brought from his home in Warsaw. Or at least they were prior to his time as a homeless street urchin. He’d kept them in as good a condition as he could, but they’d lost much of their original glamour. They were still better than the standard issue clothes the asylum provided, though.

Several of his articles of clothing were not what one in this country would typically consider appropriate for a male to wear. Feliks’ liked feminine clothing. He felt they involved so many more options and more opportunities for creativity. He wouldn’t wear some of his more…excessive items in this place, for fear of attracting too much attention from the patients and doctors, but they still held sentimental value and he was sure one day he would get to wear them again. He pulled a mint green tunic shirt out of the closet along with a pair of skinny jeans and shut the door back. “I’ll just wait until you have to leave to change. I don’t want to rush you out of here

"Okay.... but if you want me to leave any earlier, just tell me, alright?"

He smiled again, noticing Feliks' clothes. The things he'd seen the Pole in were always very nice looking and colourful, much better than the dark depressing things some of the other patients often wore. Toris was currently unaware of Feliks' more... unusual clothing, but had at least noticed the blonde's interest in more feminine clothes. Toris didn't mind it at all, though he felt it was inappropriate and not to mention unprofessional to comment on a patient's clothing. Even if he did look rather nice in some of those clothes, and perhaps it made the Lithianian question his feelings.

Pulling himself away from thoughts of seeing Feliks in other clothes, he went to sit down again. Not knowing what to say, Toris attempted to get a conversation going again.

"Your clothes are very... nice, did you get them from your home?"

Oops. He was hoping to steer away from that topic.

As if he would want Toris to leave. Feliks knew he would have to at some point. Then he would probably be forced to go to group therapy or to socialize in the rec room before his dreaded appointment with the psychiatrist later. He wasn’t going to end this bright spot in his day before he had to.
Feliks went through a series of emotions when asked about his clothes. At first it was excitement; he loved to talk about clothes and he especially loved when his were complimented (he loved any compliment, really). Then his heart sank as he was reminded of home. He didn’t even really remember the fight he’d had with his family the day he’d left. Probably something about how he needed to stop playing dress up and find a wife, or something to that effect. Even if he could get some new travel papers, they would never let him out of here until he was deemed mentally stable and who knew when that would be. And then would his parents even let him come back? Did he really want to go back? He wasn’t sure. Often what seemed like a good idea one day didn’t seem so the next.

He’d paused for too long for what should have been a simple question. He hoped Toris didn’t think him slow or simple for it. “Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral so that Toris wouldn’t suspect the emotional rollercoaster Feliks was experiencing. “My folks ran a clothing store. Real chic stuff, you know? I always got first pick of the new lines when they came in. I used to have a lot more but I couldn’t bring it all when I moved.”

Toris did notice the prolonged pause, but he didn't question it. Actually, now he was regretting mentioning Feliks' home. He didn't know much about it, a lot of patient information was confidential, after all, but he had a rough idea from bits and pieces that Feliks had told him. Despite how he came across, Toris was good at piecing bits and pieces of information together, and also had a good memory. Perhaps he had all that past studying to thank for that. Whenever he got panicked though, he'd tend to become a lot more scatterbrained, a quality he hated about himself.

After the blonde had spoken again, Toris attempted to keep on topic (even if he really wasn't sure what the word 'chic' meant). "Wow, really? And that's a shame... about leaving them, I mean." Toris paused, thinking what to say next, without coming across as really weird. Which he probably was already, he thought.

"Umm... So what types of clothes do you like to wear? I don't really... know much about them but..." he trailed off. Toris really wasn't sure why he was asking, but if it counted as socialising with the Pole, maybe it was okay to ask?

“Oh I like anything flashy and with, like, lots of color!” he said excitedly, latching onto the subject and running with it. “Some say my tastes are too gaudy, but I like to make a statement, you know? Like, why be drab when you can be fab, yeah? Especially since I can pull off just about anything and look just awesome!” He rambled on, faintly aware of the fact that he was getting carried away but not feeling the need to stop himself. This was Toris, so why worry about hiding his personality quirks which all the other doctors felt the need to diagnose. He was confident Toris wouldn’t run off and tell Dr. Braginski that Feliks was “getting manic again” or whatever. He wasn’t sure why he was so sure about that….Dr. Braginski was Toris’ boss. But Feliks trusted that feeling.

He looked back at his companion, who looked a little confused. He smiled at him. “I’m sorry, bro, did I lose you in all that? Ha, I do that sometimes. I just think clothes are fun!”