Asylums are for the Mad (Kenzi only)

[Alec Harrison]

Insane Asylum? They were for the mad. 
I'm certainly not mad, am I? he thought.

Of course you are, you got us into this mess. Let me take over and get us out before-

The orange-eyed Djinn was distracted by thoughts of his lamp. Where had he left it? How had he left it? He believed it was a bottle of soap. Terribly embarrassing, he was sure someone up there hated him. 

All it would take to be summoned was someone washing their hands. Of all the places for his lamp to follow him... With his luck he'd be stuck with some mad hatter for the rest of their lives... 

Nicholas stood up and leaned against the stone wall. 
I don't belong here, I don't belong here, I don't belong here.

It was useless. He could grant the wishes of others, but by a sadistic twist, never himself.

This was going to be interesting.

[Archetype2]

She sat there, in the empty room that currently belonged to only her, dressed in a long white dress that reached the floor, she'd torn up the clothes they'd given her, she hadn't liked them...they were too hospitally to her taste so she'd wormed her way into getting the still hospitally dress like thing...it was thin though, and she was cold.

"I need..." she looked, stared at her hands for a moment and saw one thing, one thing that normally wouldn't be there, blood, her blood. Shaking her head a little she shot up and moved to the door. Swinging it open, she moved to the nearest bathroom and found, to her joy, a new soap bottle. Picking it up she smiled, the old one was still there but she hated to use it. It was used by mad people and madness might be contagious.

Looking at the soap, she pushed the little soap spray thing to try to get the soap out. "This place is lame...so freakin' lame." she stated bitterly. "I didn't even do anything wrong to get here!" she told herself, continuing to try to make the soap come out.

She stood there, in front of the mirror in frustration, long black hair strewn down her small oddly thin and pale body. She wouldn't normally be this thin, she'd be close but for different reasons. Exhausted sky blue eyes watching the soap bottle as no soap seemed to come out of it.

[Alec Harrison]

Nicholas felt himself being whisked away, and he shut his eyes. This was never comfortable...

In seconds the Djinn was in a room with a red-head, looking over himself to make sure he hadn't lost any limbs.

He knew by instinct that this was his new master, and cleared his throat nervously.
"Excuse me?" he inquired.

The Djinn wasn't sure how she would react to the man from the soap dispenser, but bravely for him he took a step forward.

"I am a Djinn, and you are my new master."

[Archetype2]

She blinked in confusion as something emerged from the soap bottle. A frown plastered on her face as she stared at the bottle then back at the man that had apparently come out of it. "How?" she muttered to herself. Then, to her interest, the man stated that she was his master. "A master is a dude, I'm not a dude...or I wasn't the last time I checked." she jokingly explained as she fidgeted with the bottle a bit.

"K well, if this is seriously happening then tell me something. Am I like the other guys in here? ya'know nutzo-psycho? Wait....you can't catch crazy can you?" she asked putting emphasis on the word Catch.

"Sooo...what exactly can you do?" she asked, beginning to exit the room and headed toward and into her room, motioning him to follow her.

[Rio Keâts]

The Djinn lowered his head, ignoring her comments about her gender for now. The kind, warm-honey orange eyes dimmed. “No,” he said quietly, looking up at her. His smile exposed sharp canines, and now there was an irritated, predatory spark in the sharp orange eyes. “You certainly aren’t a dude,” Nicholas agreed, taking a step closer to her. His eyes focused on the way she was handling his Lamp, and his upper lip twitched petulantly. “Manhandle my Lamp and I will hang you by your spleen. Do you understand me, mistress?” he asked pleasantly, an edge of darkness to his voice. He returned his gaze pointedly to the soap bottle.

“K well, if this is seriously happening then tell me something. Am I like the other guys in here? Ya’know nutzo-psycho? Wait… you can’t catch crazy can you?” she asked.

“You ought to be careful what you say,” he said, focusing sharp eyes on her. “The nutzo-psychos don’t like to be called names. In fact,” he said, shifting closer to her, “most of the patients in here? Why, I’m sure they’ve killed for less. Personally, I know I have. For much, much less.” He gave her head a small pat, running his fingers through her dark hair. “Catching crazy? As for that, you’re being naïve and showing your vulnerability. That’s something you want to avoid when dealing with me. Just a heads-up, my little chicken.”

He placed his hands behind his back, the cruel smile never leaving his face. “Sooo… what exactly can you do?” she asked, motioning for him to follow her.

“Anything you want for me to do, and things that you don’t want me to do. Of course, it depends on which of me you get,” he said, brushing aside her comment. Orange eyes flickered to the man in the next cell; the cells were akin to large cage – each of them were around a meter away from each other. “See him?” he asked, kneeling down. He gripped the bars in his hands and grinned at her. Dark energy seeped from his fingertips, looking rather like a moving shadow.

The shadow enveloped the man, breaking off from Nicholas. The man began to convulse wildly on his bed, screaming out. The human fell off the bed with a sickening thud, the agonized screams echoing around them. Almost as immediately as it began, however, the man stopped convulsing. The shadow retreated, returning to the Djinn. Nicholas shuddered. He knew he needed to stop using his energy to torture and kill; although it was effective, it shortened his lifespan rapidly. He’d outlive even the healthiest and luckiest of Time Lords, but it’d still be early for a Djinn.

He looked up at Kenzi, standing up slowly. “I’m a Djinn. I grant your wishes and I protect you. If you want, that is. But you should know… if you decide not to have me, if you reject this contract of ours…” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “Well. Let’s just say that I like to dispose of things that waste my time. It’d be in your best interest, therefore, not to waste my time.”

“Now. Won’t you tell me your name, mistress?”

[Archetype2]

She listened to the man become somewhat angry at the way seh handled his lamp, she was nervous. He did something, involving shadows, or energy that looked like shadows when it came out to another inmate, made him scream and fall off his bed.

"Oh, I think we'll make great friends." she said happily. "As for my name, I'm Kenzi, nice to meet you." Another thought crossed her mind. "Hey....so do you like to cause chaos where its needed? if so wanna mess with some people a little?" she asked motioning to the entire building aroud them.

[javvie]

Nicholas was not at all amused by this girl. She had displayed a pretty healthy amount of fear at his earlier rampage when she was manhandling his Lamp, but now that he had shown her the amount of damage he could do, she was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it. Unless, of course, she had taken his advice to heart about not showing him any weakness. He stood to his full height, glancing over his shoulder at the man dead on the floor. He tilted his head, returning his sharp, light-orange gaze at the girl. “Oh, I think we’ll make great friends,” the girl said happily. He arched an eyebrow.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t make friends. You’re our mistress, and we’re your Djinn. Don’t get us confused with ‘friends’,” he told her bluntly. He took a step closer to her, practically baring down on her.

“As for my name, I’m Kenzi, nice to meet you.”

“Nicholas Sunder,” he said simply. It was Djinn protocol to tell her all the basic facts: the limitations of wishes, the fact she could rename him, choose what he looked like, and all those other technicalities.

“Hey… so do you like to cause chaos where its needed? If so wanna mess with some people a little?”

He stared at the girl. “If it is needed, it isn’t really chaos is it?”

[Archetype2]

Kenzi stared at Nicholas for a moment then smiled. "Ok, you make a good point, chaos isn't planned but...we can always help it along right? You know give it a little nudge in the right direction to speed things along." she said, sly grin still plastered on her face. She watched him for a moment then looked at the dead man on the ground. A sigh escaped her lips as she thought. "Ok, well I think, we should leave, fastest way possible right?" she asked, hinting for him to get them out f there.

Truth be told she was beginning to get annoyed at this whole being captured thing. First she'd been in a freaky lab somewhere near New Mexico or something like that...she didn't quite remember, Now...she was here, in a sanity chop-shop with a magic alien...best day EVER. This place wasn't a chop shop but it might as well have been, they were allowed some freedom, not much and she felt if she stayed for too long then...she might just join the ranks of the mentally gonzo.

[javvie]

Nicholas's eyes brightened and he lost his smile.

"I-I'm sorry, I have...p-personality changes." he explained

He frowned, offering a handshake. What had he done in his last lapse?
"I'm Nicholas Sunder, though you can name me as you please."

"What is your first wish?"

[Archetype2]

She watched him closely as he seemed to change somehow. Taking his hand she shook back and smiled. Well, I think I'm ganna call you Nick, not ganna change your name but nicknames work." she explained simply before thinking. "Ok, for my first wish lets get out of here shall we? Can you like... poof me or something? Place is your choice cause I don't know where to go."

[javvie]

His eyes dimmed once more, and he stared down at their hands. Nicholas’ upper lip twitched in disgust and he wrenched his hand away from hers. “Well, I think I’m ganna call you Nick, not ganna change your name but nicknames work,” she said. Nicholas rubbed his temples, chiding his ‘other self’ for being too kind-hearted. Why the hell would he offer the opportunity to call him anything other than Nicholas? It was his name. It wasn’t as though he were going to go around called her Ken. Nicknames were most definitely not going to work around him. His name was Nicholas Sunder.

“Nick won’t work at all,” he said, not really caring that they weren’t supposed to contradict their masters. “Not around me. The other guy? Call him Nick until your toenails fall off. But me? Nicholas. Or Sunder,” he told her, wiping his hand off on his suit. “Understand?”

“Ok, for my first wish lets get out of here shall we? Can you like… poof me or something? Place is your choice cause I don’t know where to go.”

Excellent. He was going to escape from this asylum. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had been brought in – something about skinning people and making them into coats, or maybe it had even been about the way he had tried to teach small children how to juggle with sharp knives. Whatever the reason was, he was sure that it didn’t have anything to do with insanity, but rather his… ‘questionable’ stance on entertainment.

“Poof?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. He sighed and shook his head, bursting out into a mass of glowing, gray energy. He covered Kenzi tightly, purposely trying to make it hard for her to breathe. He shut his eyes and ‘teleported’ to a large field on the outside. He morphed back into the form of a human, straightening his tie irritably. “There. We’re here.”