forum The Drug (Asylum/Lab RP) [closed]

Started May 24, 2018 by @_sleeby_rat_

tune

Kaz's eyes flickered over to Vaughn. "You know how to pick a lock?" he asked, spreading himself out a little more on the bed as he felt his body begin to slowly stop hurting

Vaughn shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with the cuff of his suit jacket. “I’ve done it once or twice. Why, you thinking about breaking out or something?” He asked in a deep sounding tone. That was the most he had spoken the whole time he had been there.

"I've got a lockpick, and seeing as I currently can't move, I'm willing to give it to you so you can scamper out of here," he said, reaching up to his ear for the metal bar through the top half of it. "There's just two things. One, bring me back some pie. And two, you tell me your name."

“You are actually insane. You think they would have that shit here?” Vaughn said, eyes narrowing at the boy.

"Cafeteria on the left at the end of the hall. I heard one of the staff say they had leftover pie and they were going to give it away to whoever wanted it," he answered, pulling the bar out of his ear. Tapping the bottom of the bar a small lockpick slid out of the other end, and he waved it in the air. "Now, you want this or not? Just gotta tell me your name."

Vaughn glared sharply at the other, sighing heavily as he ran a hand over his face. “Vaughn. Now give me the goddamn lock pick.”

Kaz smiled, tossing the pick to him. "Name's Kaz. Now go get me pie," he said, grinning smugly to himself

Vaughn caught it, flipping Kaz off before turning and crouching down. He took a moment to pick at the lock before tossing it back to him. He stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He snuck down the hall, glancing around as he kept his head lowered.

Kaz smiled, putting the bar back in his ear as he stretched out on the bed. A little nap couldn't hurt, could it? Especially when the small high the meds had given him were fading? His mind told him to go to sleep, and he listened to it for once, dozing off before he could stop himself

After about ten minutes of searching around, stopping to sneak some of his meds, and get Kaz’s stupid pie, he made his way back into the room. He shut the door behind him softly, looking over at Kaz. Was he seriously asleep?

The door closing jolted Kaz awake, and he near fell off the bed again. He winced, his arms hurting from the sudden motion. Damn. Cut down to the bone once and you've suddenly got arthritis in everything. He rubbed at his eyes, squinting at Vaughn. "Pie?" he asked, voice a little rough from sleep

Vaughn stepped over, setting it on the sheets next to him. “Yeah, now quit your whining,” he muttered, sitting on the edge of his bed. He pulled out a filled syringe that he had stolen from the medical office.

Kaz sat up, taking the pie gratefully. He hadn't expected Vaughn to actually get it for him, he had just thought the other guy would grab his meds and come back. Or just run. "Thanks by the way," he said before taking a bit of it, trying his best to not look at the needle Vaughn held. He hated them. They reminded him of the multitude of hospitals he had practically lived in the first 12 or so years of his life

Vaughn simply grunted in response. He got up and stepped into the bathroom, looking at his neck in the mirror as he tilted his head to the side. He really hoped that he was doing this in the right spot as he stuck the needle into his throat, injecting the clear liquid into his system.

Kaz stared down at his pie, already wishing he had more. His meds were still fighting his body so he could actually move, but it looked like he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He debated taking more pills, but he knew he had to ration them. The prescription the asylum had him on was weaker than his old meds, and they lacked the small high they gave him. If he hadn't accidentally built up an immunity to the euphoric effects from the multitude of overdoses he probably would have been eating them like candy

After the liquid was completely drained from the syringe, Vaughn slid the needle from his neck, setting it down on the sink. He decided to keep it an hide it somewhere. Could be useful in the future for defense.

Finishing his pie, Kaz folded the plate and set it in the trash before walking into the bathroom. He winced a little at the pain the movement caused, and he reached over to the sink to rinse the fork off while trying to stay as far away from Vaughn as he could

Vaughn held the syringe, glancing at Kaz warily before brushing past him and back into the bedroom. He stuffed the syringe carefully into his bag, hiding it among his clothes. He sat done on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing from the sudden energy boost that he had from the medicine. It usually made him feel a bit lighter, mentally that is. Almost the same effects as alcohol.

Kaz finished washing the fork, walking back out and hiding it in his bag. He laid down on the bed again, arms propped beneath his head as he stared up at the ceiling. The doors should be opening any time soon, shouldn't they?

Vaughn’s shoulders relaxed as he slowly began to feel calmer and more relaxed. It was an amazing feeling, and he mentally clinged to it.

Kaz looked over at Vaughn, chuckling a little at how relaxed he suddenly seemed. "What'chya high on?" he asked, a little curious. If it did this to Vaughn, maybe he could get it for his pain in the mornings

“Buspirone, which is supposed to make you calm and tired, and Alprazolam, a heavy sedative,” Vaughn answered in a casual tone, leaning back so he was laying down.

Kaz arched a brow. "You got any more? That stuff sounds like it'd kick my arthritis in the ass for a week," he said, running a hand through his still tangled hair absently

“Not on me,” Vaughn responded, resting his arms under his head. “I doubt I’d be able to get you any, anyways. They keep it locked up all nice and tight. I think I’m only supposed to have that at night…”

Kaz pouted. "I'd trade you half my painkillers for like, a centimeter of that stuff. Or a pack of cigs if they hadn't been taken from me," he said, reaching up to rub at a cramped spot near the base of his neck