Escape {Open}

[Jessica Air]

Jessica snuck into the laundry room, relieved when she saw that the quiet room was empty. She wasn't in the mood to see anyone; she was here for a reason, and the bag of dirty washing over her shoulder wasn't it. That was just her cover. A few of the machines were already on, mostly the ones nearest the door. She wanted to be far away from the door, where she wouldn't be seen if someone was to enter, looking for her. It took only a few seconds to cross the room, crouching behind the rows of rumbling machines in the furthest corner to the door.

Should she exercise first or wash her clothes? She decided to half-load the machine; then, if someone came in, she could stop dancing and pretend to be loading her clothes in. Congratulating herself on her plan, Jessica poured all of the clothes onto the floor, sorting them into piles. She had never technically done this before; washing. Usually, she just put the clothes in a basket outside of her room and they would appear, clean and ironed, in her wardrobe and drawers, the next day. On the side of each washer, there was a small booklet, a guide to using the machine. Pulling the folded paper out, she laid it out in front of her and frowned as she tried to decipher the wriggling words.

Damnit, she needed a purple cover. The pieces of transparent paper she carried from class to class with her; if she laid them over the paper, it seemed to...settle the words. Hard to explain, but something that had been suggested to her when she was younger by the freak - special needs - department. Jessica knew she wasn't dyslexic. She just didn't like reading, that was all. She would have argued about getting her diagnosis, but she got a laptop, and extra time in exams, so it wasn't all bad. As long as people didn't find out about it.

Frowning at the paper, she looked instead at the line-drawings on the side of each block of text. Damnit, this was complicated. Pushing the booklet aside, she decided to go with what she had seen on Friends once - whites in one machine, colors in the others and underwear in the last. Should be easy enough. Although... What did you do with different colored underwear? Just stick them all in together? Deciding that she would use four machines - just until she was completely sure - she began stuffing clothes into different machines. It was quite therapeutic; almost relaxing.

When she was half way through, Jessica stood up and rested her hands on the machines beside her. Too low to use for a barre, really. However, there were clothes racks at the end of each aisle of machines; they seemed the perfect height. Crossing the room, she rested her left hand on the cool, rounded metal and began stretching her legs out. Not ideal, really, but it would do. If she managed to get an hour of dancing in now, that'd be around three hundred calories. Almost one meal. In no way enough, but it would have to do, she supposed. Realizing at the last minute she had left her pointe shoes in her dorm, she cursed, but continued her stretching. She could still burn calories, and that was the ultimate goal.

As she rolled her shoulders from side to side, Jess began thinking about her roommate, and how...well, how she was an evil bitch, mostly. It was stupid, two dancers having to share a room, because she would have hated anyone she shared with by default. But especially another ballerina. That just made her feel more competitive... At least they were the only two dancers in the school. Except for Morph. But he didn't do ballet, so he didn't count. Glaring into thin air at the thought of both Yvonne and Morph, she resisted the urge to kick something. Preferably one of the other two dancers, if she was honest. But that could lead to pain. And loss of hair. Closing her eyes again, Jessica concentrated on moving her legs through the positions quickly, adding in a few simple movements as she worked. She was slightly clumsy, due to not wearing her school uniform rather than a leotard, but she could still do basic stuff.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla shifted the bag of dirty laundry from one shoulder to the other, singing softly to herself as she made her way down to the laundry rooms. You guarantee that he will be made... Into a saint... A martyr of the free word The words just didn't have the same impact when they weren't backed up by guitar, drums, and bass. Guitar, at least. Layla's fingers itched to get hold of her old ibanez electric, but she hadn't been able to bring it with her. She could use the ones here, but they just didn't have the same familiarity as her mahogany guitar. She swung the bag off her shoulder as she reached the laundry room, flicked her pale hair out of her eyes, and made her way to the back of the room, where less machines were in use. Someone appeared to have shoved a handful of clothes into each machine, then abandoned them.

Glancing around, she saw a blonde girl, apparently stretching on the clothes rail at the end of the rail. Layla dumped her bag on the floor and wandered over. "Hey, I was wondering," she began conversationally. "D'you mind if I use the same machines as you? It's easier than us all using four each. I'll do all the controls and you carry on stretching, if you like." As she spoke, her eyes skimmed up and down the frail body of the other girl; thick blonde hair, sunken eyes, so skinny she was translucent; she was wearing clothes several sizes too big, and although it was only the school uniform, she seemed the type who was constantly dressed fashionably. She also had two of her top buttons undone, showing an awful lot of collarbone, pale skin and the top of a lacy black bra.

Layla herself was wearing her favourite outfit- white skirt, reaching halfway down her thighs, black leather boots and low-cut black top. Her wrists were covered in bangles, and she was wearing a silver choker around her neck. She smiled warmly at the other girl, leaning back against the rail and crossing her legs, resting her elbow on the metal bar and letting her other hand flop down by her side. After a few seconds pause, she added, "Layla Whitney, by the way. You?"

As Layla waited for a reply, her mind wandered. She was still frustrated about earlier, the girl in the chatbox calling her a freak. Fucking hypocrisy. This was a mental hospital, for christ's sake. And that just made her even more angry. She itched to get her hands on the little bitch, but right now, she had stuff to do. She turned her blue eyes back to the other blonde, still waiting for an answer.

[Jessica Air]

It felt nice to be able to stretch without her roommate being there; Yvonne was in all her dance classes, and whenever Jess tried exercising in her room, security or Yvonne would show up to ruin it. She'd have to come to the laundry room more often, it was quiet, and the humming of the machines was vaguely soothing. Hopefully, there were no cameras in here. If so, she'd be yelled at and made to eat disgusting, fattening food pretty soon. For a moment, she paused. Was it worth the risk? She decided it was, and continued, her legs aching already. She was already beginning to lose all the progress she had made after she'd gotten out of the (last) mental hospital.

Jessica was so wrapped up in her movements that she failed to notice Layla entering the room, and jumped when the other girl spoke. Spinning around, she sighed in relief when she was a. not Morph and b. not security (or Yvonne). She was slightly concerned that it could be c. "Layla Whitney", the freak that had threatened her in chat, but she doubted it. Although she didn't recognize her, she had assumed that the girl would have found (and possibly murdered) her by now, if she had really been trying. Besides, the offer of someone showing her how to work the machine was too tempting to turn down, just in case it was a girl that wanted to rip her skin off.

" That's fine. " Reluctantly, she carried on her exercises, hoping that she wasn't being watched. Her clothes were too baggy to show off the true extent of her fat, but she still didn't look great. When she noticed the girl leaning besides her, she pursed her lips, but didn't stop. Didn't stop until the girl introduced herself, that was. Then she froze, for a second, before continuing and hoping that the pause hadn't been too obvious. So, this was Layla. What should she do? Lie about her identity? The girl looked about the same height as her, and Jess was sure that she was stronger. After all, she did dance.

Raising her eyebrows, she leaned against the bar, facing the other girl with what was hopefully a casual posture. " I'm Jessica Air. Wondering if you'd turn up. " Last time this had happened - and it was sad that there was a last time - Jessica had just walked away, and that...hadn't ended well. Hopefully, she'd scare Layla away.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla nodded when she agreed, went back to her bag and started unloading it into each washer: whites, colours, underwear and so on. The girl had carried on stretching when she'd introduced herself; maybe it wasn't Jess? She had seemed the type to panic when faced with someone who'd just threatened to force-feed her her own skin. And Jess hadn't mentioned anorexia. Then again, Layla hadn't mentioned IED, but she was fairly certain Jess had worked that out, unless she was a complete idiot.

She finished loading the machines, shut them, and pressed the buttons. By this time, Jess had spoken again, and was now watching her carefully, looking as though she was posing for a fashion shoot. Layla grinned at her as she shut the last machine and pressed the buttons. "Relax. If you're trying to look relaxed, you actually need to be relaxed. It doesn't work very well, otherwise." She hoisted herself up so she was sitting on top of the machines, crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands, smiling slightly at Jess. "You were waiting for me? I'm flattered," her smile grew slightly. "What did you think I was going to do to you?"

Layla's smile faded slightly as she regarded Jessica with bright blue eyes, wondering what she would say next. They were a good few metres apart; Jess should feel safe enough. She also had a clear run the exit, if she wanted to leave. Layla wasn't being threatening in the slightest. She bent her arms, so she was now leaning back on her elbows, a position that would have been provocative if she'd been wearing trackies and a hoody, let alone a short skirt and tight top. She wondered what was going through Jess' mind at that moment. Was she wondering whether to run? Would she stay? Layla sat still, waiting for her to speak.

[Jessica Air]

Jess rolled her eyes. This girl was a total freak. Although...maybe she shouldn't voice that thought. But really. She couldn't just go around, telling people that they didn't look relaxed! Glaring, she stayed in the same position, wondering what she'd do if Layla tried to kill her or something. Should she run? It'd be humiliating, sure, but she was worried about the eating her own skin threat. Sounded...painful. And there were probably lots of calories.

On the other hand, she reminded herself, the last time she'd tried to run away from a freak that had threatened her...well, that hadn't ended well. Actually, it had ended with her pinned against a wall, being blackmailed, which was not something she particularly wanted to happen again, if she was honest. " Whatever. " She hesitated. She'd stretched enough, for sure. It was probably time to start dancing, but not in front of a stranger. It was bad enough dancing in class; she had to wear a leotard there. But what if Layla laughed at her?

At the blatant innuendo, Jessica relaxed a little. These were familiar grounds. That reminded her; they were both hypersexual. Maybe they'd get along better than she'd first thought. Layla looked like a whore, her favorite type of girl. With some bitterness, though, she remembered that Morph was also hypersexual. And they didn't have fun. Well, that was't true - Morph seemed to have fun. Jess curled her fists slightly at the thought, trying to stop herself from hitting things. " Maybe what you threatened to do on IM? Freak. "

It didn't cross her mind that calling Layla a freak was maybe not the best idea; she was pissed off and determined to upset someone. Preferably, someone who wasn't Morph, and who couldn't murder her. The other girl was skinny enough - so not strong - and she sure didn't look like Morph.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla's expression was thoughtful, slightly predatory; a faint smirk, combined with a contemplative pout, waiting for the girl to move. As she sat there, she hummed softly to herself. 'our reward for all the blood we've ever shed...' She didn't sing aloud, but hummed the gentle melody softly to herself, almost unconsciously, as she watched Jess rolling her eyes. Well, that couldn't be a good sign.

Her nails tapped against the top of the machines; they'd been cut short when she'd arrived, but they were still long enough to make a faint clinking noise. Her foot twitched lazily to the rhythm only she could hear, both movements completely unrealised. She raised one hand to brush a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. Jess was taking a long time to reply. She seemed to be switching between interested, afraid, and angry. Layla almost rolled her own eyes. Make your mind up, you silly bitch!

The lyrics Layla was humming to herself changed abruptly as Jess spoke. From '...never be the way to our destiny', the words became sung out loud, gently, caressingly... 'so you make, the simplest mistake... Layla sat up straight, uncrossing her legs as she moved, and jumped off the machines. She sauntered towards the skinny girl, blue eyes fixed on hers. On thumb was hooked in her belt, the other swung loosely at her side, the hand curled into a fist. When she reached Jess, she stood at about the same height as her, looking directly into her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was sickly sweet. She stood close to Jess, too close for comfort, glaring at her with frightening intensity. "Maybe I'll just have to, then. You so obviously want me to."

[Jessica Air]

Just because Layla was a singer, she thought she could just go around humming and singing. It was irritating. Jess didn't just wander around dancing, did she? Secretly, she was slightly envious of the other girls musical talent, but there was no way she'd admit that to herself, much less to Layla. It took a few seconds for the meaning of her softly sung words to sink in; the girls were far too close for her liking when she realized that the mistake was probably calling the other girl a freak.

God, people here were touchy. Jessica edged away as best she could, before her back hit the metal rail. Shit. This probably wasn't good. Still, better than insulting Morph by calling him by...that. She didn't let herself think it; too afraid that she'd slip up when she was actually with him. His last threat still rang in her mind, ' you call me that again and I swear I'll make you fat. '

Biting her lip, she wondered if she had any chance against Layla. Luckily, the two were the same height, but Jess didn't particularly feel like risking it. " Obviously want you to what? Make me 'eat my own skin'? " She laughed. " Right. " Surprised at how genuinly relaxed she sounded, she raised her eyebrows, hoping her disdain for the other girl was clear. Ah, well. If she did get attacked, she'd be in the medical room for a while and Morph wouldn't be able to touch her.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla leaned in, almost casually, placing her hands deliberately on the bar either side of Jess, trapping the skinny girl, pulling herself slightly closer as she did so. The two were now touching, Layla's arm brushing against Jess', her nose scant inches from the other girl's.

Damn, but this one was a pain in the arse! Layla didn't think she'd ever met anyone so utterly clueless before. You call someone a freak, they threaten to rip your skin off and feed it to you, what do you do? Not call her freak again, that was for sure. Unless you were Jessica Air, in which case you had a right to do what you wanted and no-one was allowed to get angry with you.

Well, crap. The girl had more balls than Layla had given her credit for. She smiled slightly, and purred, "You've got guts, I'll give you that. want me to make you eat them?" She let go of the bar and grabbed Jess' hand, digging her nails into the base of Jess' own fingernail. Layla knew from experience just how painful that was, and hoped that her newly short nails still had enough strength in them to break the skin.

Glancing down, she saw a bead of blood welling up around Jess' nail, and carelessly brushed it away with her thumb. She forced Jess' hand up so it hovered between Layla's face and her own, and growled, "You want me to make you eat this? 'Cause I will. And you know how many calories there are in a single drop of blood, or you can guess." She hoped her guess at the anorexia was right. If not, she'd just look an idiot, and that would only make her even more angry, something Jess would not want to do if she had any sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

[Jessica Air]

Jessica stayed very still as Layla - or Freak, as she was now known in her head - stepped closer, her arms effectively cutting off her escape route. Not that she wanted to escape, or anything; she wasn't scared. Just...slightly nervous. The two were close, close in a way that made her slightly worried that she was going to get raped. Although...maybe that'd be the best ending to this scenario. Getting raped, rather than getting murdered. All of her previous, Morph-related desire to kill anyone who annoyed her had gone, leaving her with an angry girl that wanted to rip her skin off, apparently. And make her eat it. Which was never good.

There was a sudden, sharp pain on the base of her thumbnail and she looked down instinctively, swearing when she saw Layla's nails digging into her skin. Maybe if she pretended it didn't hurt, she'd let go. Jess let her hand relax, keeping her face expressionless. " Wow, so that's skin and guts? Ambitious. " Slightly surprised at how sarcastic she was being (maybe it was something to do with being around washing machines?) she raised her eyebrows and lent back against the bar, resting her other elbow on the cold metal. " So, gonna give me back my hand anytime soon? "

She looked down at the same time Layla did and tensed when she saw blood. Crap, crap, crap. It wasn't like she was a wimp or anything, but blood tended to make her...throw up or pass out. Puking wouldn't be too bad - in fact, it'd be nice to get rid of all the calories - but fainting would be bad. Unconscious, with this girl near her helpless body? Taking deep breaths, Jessica looked back up at the other girl, trying not to think about the blood oozing out of her fingers. It was just as she began to relax again that Layla chose to shove the blood in front of her face, making her close her eyes. At the threat - God, organs, skin and blood? - she whimpered slightly, shaking her head. Blood had calories? She kept her eyes shut as tight as she could to ensure that no tears leaked out at the idea. Why the fuck was everyone here trying to make her fat

[Layla Whitney]

Layla pushed the hand back so the bleeding finger brushed Jess' mouth, leaving a small, violently red smear across her lower lip, watching her for her reaction. "Yeah," she purred. "It's ambitious. But I'm fairly certain I can manage it. After all, practice makes perfect, right? If I get it wrong now, I'm sure there'll be enough left for another try later on."

Layla didn't bother to answer her next question. She could work that out for herself. The other hand stayed where it was, pinning Jess against the metal bar, Layla's body pressed up against hers. Someone walking in now was more likely to think they were having sex than a fight. Which suited Layla perfectly well, thank you very much. The punishment for sex was probably less than the punishment for trying to force-feed another student her own blood.

Well, fight wasn't quite the right word. Layla was forcing the girl to drink her own blood; the girl was whimpering because of the calories. Not what you'd expect, but still. Not something that was generally smiled upon. And she was whimpering now, he eyes squeezed shut. Layla smiled savagely, and decided that now would be a good time to interrupt. "So, I expect by now you've realised that calling me... that, or anything along those lines, isn't a good idea. But just to make the message sink in..." She began to force Jess' arm back towards her mouth.

As she did so, a song crossed her mind. I'm an addict for dramatics, I confuse the two for love, you can tell me that you don't care... Liar, liar, if we're keeping score... It seemed oddly appropriate, and Layla began humming to herself again. Suddenly, she stopped moving her hand, tilted her head to one said, and told Jess, "Maybe if you apologise, really nicely, I won't make you do this. It's up to you."

[Jessica Air]

It took a lot of effort to stop herself fainting as she felt her own hand be forced across her lip. The bleeding hand; she could feel the warm wetness, although there wasn't a huge amount of blood. Just enough to make her feel like throwing up. To be fair, however, enough blood to make her want to throw up could be the result of a prick from a needle; generally, the vile liquid made her feel ill.

She didn't respond to Layla's response to her comment about being ambitious; she was starting to regret her sarcastic words. As nice as it was having wit, even just for a moment, it seemed to cause pain. And blood drinking. Jessica had the urge to laugh as she suddenly realized how completely ridiculous the situation was; she was being pinned to a wall (for the second time in one week), and a girl was making her drink her own blood. Only at St. Dympha's.

Surprisingly, the amusement was taken over by fear, slight pain, and nausea after just a second, and Jess opened her eyes, instinct making her want to see her attacker. And holy crap, was she enjoying this? She was smiling, seeming...savage. Predatory. Too late, she realized that opening her eyes had released the flood of tears she'd been hiding, and blinked furiously.

Deciding that it would be best to listen to the scary freak who was apparently stronger than her, Jess forced herself to concentrate, shrinking back into the bar. She struggled against the other girls grip, pushing with all her weight against her arm, but didn't seem to get any grip. God, that bitch was strong.

Was this girl a sociopath or something? Jess' legs began to shake as Layla began to hum, seeming almost...casual. At her words, however, she looked up, hope in her almost-fainting eyes. Apologize really nicely? Now, that could be interesting. Having sex with another terrifying freak wouldn't be fun, but Jess didn't mind that much. Leaning forward, her entire body still shaking slightly, she stuck her tongue out and gently traced Layla's lips.

[Layla Whitney]

She ignored Layla's comments. Well, that was only to be expected, really. She was being forced to eat her own blood. Not even Layla would be willing to wind up someone doing that to her. And when she opened her eyes, the tears came flooding out. Layla really didn't blame Jess, but she shouldn't have called her a freak, especially since she obviously didn't like it. She held the hand still, hovering millimeters from Jess' lips; one sudden movement, and she'd have her whole finger in her mouth. Layla was really rather enjoying herself. There was always something about these situations that excited her, made her feel very sensual. What was the word? They were aphrodisiacs to her. That sounded about right.

She could feel the other girl trembling, and that served only to increase her enjoyment. She wondered what Jess was going to do. Would she get her apology? Or would she get more of the unexpected wit? Layla looked down at her victim as she wondered what was going to happen next. But then... well. That wasn't what she'd meant. In fact, it was better than what she'd wanted. Letting Jess' hand drop, she returned the kiss passionately, wrapping her arm around the other girl's waist and pulling her closer, if that was possible.

After a few seconds, she pulled away, and looked curiously into Jess' eyes. "That wasn't quite what I was after, darlin'," she told her, her voice husky. "But if you'd rather it went like this, I'm all for it..." she let the words trail off as she examined Jess' face; one arm still pinned the skinny girl to the rail, the other was wrapped tightly around her waist, preventing any kind of movement. Although she was willing to let Jess go for no more than an apology, it probably didn't look like that from the other girl's perspective, which suited Layla fine. If she chose that option because she thought she had no other choice, it wasn't like Layla had lied to her or anything.

(I'm bored, so I'mma summarize all the songs in this thread in order of appearance.
Martyr of the Free Word - Epica
Safeguard to Paradise (x2) - Epica
Simplest Mistake - Seether
Liar - Taking Back Sunday)

[Jessica Air]

Jessica relaxed as her hand was released; moving it around Layla's waist, she stroked up her back and let it rest at the base of her neck, stroking the blonde hair gently. This was much better. She felt much more relaxed when her own blood wasn't being forced into her mouth. She knew that there were a few smears on blood left on her lip and shuddered. Layla was practically drinking blood now. Gross.

She happily let herself become unattached; it wasn't like she was attracted to Layla. She just didn't want to get murdered. And, she supposed, the sex part wouldn't be too bad... God, who was she kidding? ' I am not sleeping with that freak. ' She smiled at the other girl, trying to appear relaxed and happy. Like she wasn't about to run and hide somewhere. Damn, her washing would be left behind... Jess bit her lip, but decided she could come back for it later.

" Mmm. Or I could just tell you to go fuck yourself, freak? " She was unsure why exactly she was trying to set Layla off. It wasn't like it was fun. Before the girl could react, Jess slammed her fist into the base of her neck, hoping the sudden force would knock her off her balance, so she could jump up and run. Where would she go? If Layla knew that she was a dancer - and had seen her - it wouldn't be that hard to hunt her down. Which could be...painful. And possibly involve blood, or other parts of her, being eaten. And that was bad. Tensing all her muscles, Jessica prepared to either shove the girl away again - knocking her over, preferably, before running - or being tortured.

((Personally, I think that it's gonna be the second one. xD))

[Layla Whitney]

She seemed to relax for a few seconds, but Layla could practically hear her mind changing. Jess' fist clanged down on the back of her neck; it hurt, but not enough to unbalance Layla. Neither was the shove; the girl obviously wasn't as strong as she though. Layla grabbed her hair in one hand, keep Jess locked close to her with the arm around her waist. Glaring at her, she yanked down hard on the handful of hair; so hard, several strands came away in her fist. Layla's face contorted with anger, and she growled at Jess, "Listen, you silly little bitch. I gave you a chance; I warned you not to call me that again. But you did. So maybe it's time I made sure you can't call me that, hm?"

Unraveling her arm from the other girl, she grabbed her collar, and used it to slam her back against the bar, hard. With the other hand, she waved the few strands of gold hair in front of Jess' face. "Since I'm a nice person, I'll give you the choice. Would you rather eat your own hair, or blood? It's up to you." She didn't mention the fact that she'd probably do both; Jess would find out in due course.

Waste, really. She wasn't a bad kisser. A bit on the skinny side for Layla's liking, but still. It would have been nice. She hadn't had a decent shag in days, and right up until that point, Jess' prospects had looked good. Ah well- Jess was missing out more than she was. At least Layla got some kind of satisfaction from this situation. All Jess got was calories, and she was fairly certain that wouldn't give satisfaction. Which pleased Layla; the girl was an idiot. Frankly, she deserved everything she got, and more.

[Jessica Air]

Jess froze in fear when she wasn't freed immediately. She shrieked as she felt some of her hair come out, bending her head back in the direction Layla was coming from, too late. Bitch. She began shaking again, her bravado from a minute ago vanishing fast. At the girls words, she shook her head, tears continuing to drip down her face. " Please, I won't do it again, I promise, " she whispered, her voice shaking.

At the girls next threat, her legs literally gave way and she had to cling to the bar behind her for support. Was she serious? She had to choose whether she wanted to eat her own hair or her own blood? Pulling her head back, she closed her eyes again. " Don't, please... " She began to shake, keeping her mouth firmly closed and bringing one hand up in front of her to cover her lips.

With as much force as she could she began struggling, thrashing from side to the side in Layla's embrace. She kept her lips tightly closed but took her hand from her mouth and used it to hit at the other girl, flailing her hand in the general direction of her face. Her legs were still shaking and refusing to support her properly, so she still had to hold onto the bar with one hand, making it slightly more difficult to attack. Her breath was coming unsteadily, almost hyperventilating one second and not being able to breathe the next, making her become more panicked and desperate for air. There was no way she was picking between hair and blood.

Blood. The thought crossed her mind quickly. It was easier to swallow, less of a taste, and...less gross. Plus, she might pass out, which was sounding better and better. But no! She was not picking, and Layla couldn't make her. She refused, on moral grounds. That was a legal defense, right?