They'll Come For Me (Open RP)

[Winifred Miller]

(OOG NOTE: I've had computer problems (aka: dropped my laptop down the stairs, and then the one I got from my insurance was the wrong type of laptop, and then they sent the proper one to my old address, and my old roommate had to send it to my new one). I am so sorry it took this long for my first post!))

Winifred sat on the bed in the cold, dimly lit room she was brought to upon entering the Asylum. She was told she'd only stay there for a day or two, as her room wasn't ready yet. Winnie didn't mind, though. This whole thing was all a big misunderstanding, anyway. Her parents would come before tomorrow, right?

As she heard rodents scurrying beneath her feet, she brought her legs up on the bed and hugged them close to her chest, ignoring the noises she could still hear. Winnie closed her eyes, trying to imagine her parents house, where she hoped she would be soon. Her pleasant thoughts of home were interpreted by awful, terrifying ones. 'What if no one knows that I'm here? What if everyone believes Victor and thinks I'm actually crazy?' she thought, suddenly afraid. She opens her eyes, trying to see the room around her. There had to be a way out of here. There had to be a way to tell a doctor or a nurse or someone that she must alert her parents of where she was. It didn't seem likely, though, as the door appeared to be locked from the outside. Still, she slowly crept up from the bed, eyes searching the floor as to not step on any of the rats beneath her, and walked over to the door. Just as she feared - it was locked. As panic set in, Winnie began banging on the door. "Hello! Is anyone there?! Please let me out of here!" she cried out loudly, praying someone would hear her - that someone would come for her.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

((OOC: I quite understand :3 nice to have you with us!))

"Mm do I hear another little rat squealing from the walls?" Sneered Doctor Edward Bramsfield as he eyed up the girl in her cage, pleading desperately to be set free. Her eyes were large as saucers and he had to say she wasn't unattractive. Poor little wretch. On a whim, he leaned against the doors, the tails of his surgeon's jacket hanging down and brushing against the tips of her fingers that clung to the bars. He, and perhaps the jacket, smelled richly of opium and musk, almost too heady for one to bear, if he'd not enjoyed so the smell of his favourite drug

He looked down with feigned pity on her and curled his thin lips into a smirk of sorts. "And how exactly do you plan to get out, eh? Climb through those bars? Kill yourself? Beg for mercy? Ha. Come now. Surely by now you've realized you won't ever be leaving this place?"

He clasped his fingers around the bars of the door when she shook it and did just the same, pulling his gaunt face into a pained expression "Oh dear gods let me free!" He jested before pulling away. His mood swings had been coming much more frequently in the passing days than he'd liked, and soon he was victim to yet another change. "But really," he said, looking more innocent through those emerald eyes than he'd looked in ages, hunkering down and stooping at her level "You're just plain silly. See? You can't get out." His voice held something of a peaceful nature to it.

[Winifred Miller]

At first, Winnie just stared at the man, frozen. She backed away from the bars a few feet, back towards the shadows, when his coat brushed against her. The scent he carried was strong and unpleasant. As he spoke, she remained silent and just listened, utterly confused. What on Earth did he mean by all this - that she would never be let out? The possibility sent a shiver down her spine. As he continued to mock her, she examined him. He was tall - much taller than she was. He could probably snap her in half, if he so desired.

When he got down to her level, she stood up almost instantly. As she walked closer to the bars again, she cleared her throat and straightened her back. "Excuse me, Sir, but this is all a misunderstanding. My name is Ms. Winifred Miller. I shouldn't be here. I'm not crazy, I swear. You see, my ex-husband put me in here. I have to tell my parents where I am. They'll come get me," she said, voice confident. She knew she couldn't show that she was scared - it would make her look weak. "So, if you would just unlock the door and let me write a letter to them, I'd greatly appreciate it. I'd hate to take up space in this fine institution if I'm not in need of any help. It already looks pretty crowded, and there were about six more girls waiting to be admitted when I was." She smiled softly and looked the doctor in the eye, hoping he would believe her. "Please."

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

In a split second he was back to his old self again. "Ha. I don't see why not." he shrugged. Oh, but if she only knew his plans. He summoned a chaser who clipped manacles on her wrists and Doctor Bramsfield grabbed her himself. He led her to his office himself, where he sat her down roughly at the table. "Go ahead and write. Write to your heart's desire. I'll pack it up and send it myself, eh? Sound good to you?"

His sincerity was fake and feigned as he grabbed a leaf of paper and a pen for her. "Write away, my dear" he said as he returned to his desk and occupied himself with some paperwork. He looked up periodically to watch her write, smirking at the pretty girl. Yes, she was his type, definitely. If only Amelia hadn't been in his life....

[Winifred Miller]

Though Winnie did not appreciate how rough Doctor Bramsfield was handling her, she kept a smile on her face and thanked him profusely as he walked her to his office. She wouldn't be there much longer, she thought, as her parent's house wasn't too far away from the Asylum.

She struggled to write with the shackles on, but didn't blame the doctor for not fully trusting her. In a place like this, you couldn't trust a patient, she knew. Her handwriting wasn't nearly as neat as usual, but it was mostly legible. She figured she should keep it short, and to the point. She wrote silently, feeling the doctor's occasional gaze up at her. She read it over when it was finished.

"Dear Mum and Dad,
Something tragic has happened. I have found myself locked in the local Asylum. I need you to come and sign me out of here. You see, Victor and I had an argument. I'll explain further when I see you, but he went absolutely mad and dragged me here. I believe it is called The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls. Regardless, you know I am perfectly sane. Please, don't believe anything he may have told you. It is urgent that you come get me as soon as possible. I'm scared. I'll see you soon.
Love Always,
Winnie"

She figured that would do the job, and she stood from her seat and walked over to the Doctor's desk, keeping her air of confidence and her voice steady. "Excuse me, sir, I'm done with the letter. You will send it, right?"

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Oh, yes, yes" he said, drawing out the words, "Most certainly." He snatched the letter away from her, read it over a few times, and had to struggle hard to keep from laughing hysterically, but he certainly did not laugh. For that, he was glad. Maybe she deserved some form of respect for keeping so calm, so composed in a place like this. Maybe she deserved something back for not giving him a hassle.

"Would you care for some tea?" He asked, approaching her and sitting beside her in his favourite high-backed chair. He took a deep breath and calmed himself from his manic state before continuing. "Perhaps some tea or a crumpet?" He suggested, waving his hand idly and shrugging off the offer as though it were commonplace and average. He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he'd hosted certain women in here, and chuckled.

[Winifred Miller]

Winnie smiled at him, a bit confused. Did doctors often have tea with patients here? It didn't seem likely, but stranger things have happened, so she shrugged the thought away. "Yes, thank you. That'd be lovely," she said quietly. This would keep her out of the cell for just a bit longer.

She examined the doctor. He was a fairly good looking man, tall, and his presence was rather intimidating. His strength was evident in how he held her arm while bringing her into his office. He could hurt her, and she was afraid he would do so for a second. 'He's a doctor. He helps people, he doesn't harm them,' she thought to herself, as the doctor, with his closed eyes, looked a tad distracted in his own thoughts.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"It's not often I do this for young ladies, you know. Most of the poor wenches here aren't worth my troubles. You seem complacent enough, though. And though I enjoy a good struggle once in a while, I don't mind a few good girls who like to relax around me."

With this, he stood from his chair and sauntered off to collect two tea cups, setting a kettle over the fire to boil, as he had no better method of warming at the current moment. After it had boiled, he prepared a pot himself with his favourite brew before offering her a cup with a small biscuit perched on the saucer. "Take as many biscuits as you like, as I don't see you earning this kind of treat very often." He said quietly, tapping his fingers lightly in no sort of rhythm on his teacup as he sat and wondered about things idly.

A sharp cry from his bedroom distracted him momentarily, and he grumbled. "I'll be right back." He said quietly, setting his cup down as a sudden tenderness overtook him before he could hide it. He took off for the room at once and returned a few minutes later, a warmth and a smile in his eyes alone, not to mention the dimples that had overtaken his serene expression. "I do apologize. My son..." he trailed off.

[Winifred Miller]

Winifred nodded in response to his speaking, and sipped her tea quietly. It was quite good. She stayed as silent as possible, afraid to say anything that may seem rude or out of line. After all, he did say he didn't do this often and she knew well enough that she shouldn't abuse the freedom she'd been given.

When he excused himself from the room, she grew curious, but stayed put and waited for him to come back. When he did, and said he had a son, her eyes lit up and she finally spoke.

"Oh, you a have son? Oh, I love children. How old is he, if I may ask?" she asked excitedly. Winnie did adore children, even though she knew she would never be able to have her own.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Aeodhan is going on three years old." He said softly, imagining the day his son could walk freely the upstairs halls which were free of inmates and live a happy life as a child, old enough to be set free of his confined office space.

Lo and behold, a small toddler came bustling in like it was some big to-do and hopped immediately onto his father's lap. "Why do you leave?" He asked innocently, pawing at Doctor Bramsfield's gaunt, freckled face. "I was lonely, papa." He said.

"I'm sorry, young one." He brushed the hair away from Aeodhan's equally freckled face softly and kissed his bare forehead. "Do you want a biscuit?" He asked, taking one from the coffee table and offering it to the grasping hands of his offspring.

He hummed in satisfaction watching Aeodhan, entirely distracted from his guest as he occupied himself stroking the boy's tiny head. "His mother left me the day of his birth. She's only just returned recently." He said softly.

[Winifred Miller]

Winnie nodded in understanding, figuring it would be inappropriate to ask for details. She wondered how a mother could ever leave her child. Thoughts of how she would never know what it's like to be a mother and thoughts of if her mum was missing her right this moment came to mind, so she ignored the thought instead focused her attention on the little boy in the room.

"Hello, Aeodhan. I love your name," she said to him softly, a warm smile in place, and she watched the small child munch on the biscuit. She thought to herself how Doctor Bramsfield looked like a very good father, but doubted an asylum was the best place for a little boy to grow.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"Hello...you're not Other Mother" said Aeodhan absentmindedly, munching messily on his biscuit and pawing for another, which he got from his father immediately. Edward was not one to deny his beloved son a snack. He smiled lovingly down to the boy and rubbed his back vigorously.

"So...tell me about your stay here..." he said. No, he did not want to hear about her experiences, per se, but it was idle chatter and he was good with that. He would listen to her as long as she spoke without much complaint, as he didn't have much else to do. Aeodhan stared transfixed at the woman across from him and giggled "Pretty" he said excitedly.

[Winifred Miller]

Winnie was confused at the little boy's comment, but didn't put too much thought into it. Children said strange things sometimes. "Thank you," she said when he called her pretty, and then she turned her attention to the doctor's question.

"Well, I was brought here very early this morning, before the sun was even up. The employees at the front desk mostly talked to my husband - sorry, exhusband - and I just sat there. Then, they took me to that cell you found me in. I was only in there for a few hours. I shouldn't have been there at all, though. See, I'm not mad. My husband and I just got in a stupid little fight. He's the insane one for bringing me here," she explained, speaking more quickly than usual. She didn't want to acknowledge where she was or how she got here. All she wanted to do was get out of here and forget about it all.

[Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield]

"I see. Well. I can tell you most casually and sincerely that you are indeed in need of our help. Who is to blame is not of any importance. You are here, and therefore require our help, my help." He said sternly but softly. "Aeodhan, go run back to your room and play with your toys, alright? It's late, but I give you my permission to stay up for a while. Get me when you are ready to be tucked in, alright sweet one?" He said, kissing the child's forehead and sending the toddler off softly to his room, walking him part of the way there.

He turned back to his guest and sat back down, tossing back his endless coils of ginger hair, again stirring the scent of opium, which had died down to something a bit more pleasant and poppy-like. He looked to her with his emerald eyes and squinted them, losing his tenderness now that his son had left his company and his thoughts. "You certainly need are help," he reiterated, "It is only a matter of time before you realize that you do..." he sneered bitterly for a moment before swapping moods entirely.

"Would you like some more tea?" He said cheerily in his very slight, very distant Irish brogue, his Queen's English outruling the deeper gaelic roots that he was raised with.

[Winifred Miller]

She stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. She wasn't completely sure of what's just happened. It took her several moments to respond to his question. "Um, no thank you... " she said, trying to regain her confidence. Once she did, she decided

"So, what was that about me needing help? Because, sir, trust me, I don't. Come on, you must see that I'm perfectly normal. You're a doctor, right? You must be able to spot a sane person and an insane one," she said, a bit of anger in her voice. She didn't quite like being accused of being crazy.