'oh hey visitation [ALEKSEY!]

[HOLLOWAY MARIE JONES]

Priceless. The feeling of escaping surveillance and roaming around alone in the middle of the night was simply priceless. Most teenagers would have their hearts racing a mile a minute by now, but not her. She was so use to breaking the rules that it came naturally and calmly. Her calm blue eyes gazed around the hallways before crossing over on to the boys side and walking down the line of doors. 501. The room sounded quiet, motionless. There was no need to break down a door to a boys room unless she was going to find someone or something interesting going on. It was odd how they put so many children into one room. Weren't most of these kids attracted to the same gender? Was that not obvious to the staff? If it was ... were they not quite concerned with their sexual ongoings? It was quite an odd concept, but perhaps this place simply didn't have the luxury to build enough rooms for everyone. Whatever. Holloway rolled her eyes and walked down the hall a bit farther. 502. There was laughter. A sign of life inside the walls of the boys dorm. An uneven grin pulled at the side of the girls mouth. She could have just licked her lips at the thought of trudging in on some unsuspecting boys in their tighty-whities. That's cute. 503. No words spoken nor snores uttered, but there was commotion. Someone was moving about in there and because of her curiosity, the girl chose this dorm. In the back pocket of her rather right skinny jeans the girl carried a staff members credit card. She could have chosen to charge the card and buy all sorts of horrid things, but instead she used it as a way into the unsuspecting boy's dorm room.

With a click, the card slid through the tiny crack between the door and the wall. With another click, it was unlocked and the girl slid inside, quietly shutting the door behind her. The room was dimly lit by a light in the corner over a small area filled with stuff; and a boy. Holloway smirked at the site as she slid the card back into her pocket and crossed her arms, leaning back against the door she just came through. "What're you doin'?" She spoke loudly and curiously, making it known that answering was highly suggested, but not a requirement. She wasn't going to beat the poor kid up if he didn't answer a simple question. She wasn't that much of a bitch. The girl pushed herself off the door and approached the boy slowly and calmly, a friendly smile plastered upon her face. She was here just to entertain herself for the evening, not to be a rebellious little demon child. When she got close enough to see his odd expression of slight fear, she cringed. Something was wrong with him. Something ... on the inside. The girl sighed and lowered herself to the ground to sit criss-cross next to the boy, watching what he was doing. She wondered how his mind worked, and if he could talk. She hoped he could talk.

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[ALEKSEY HENDRY VASILYEV]

COME AND RESCUE ME
im burning cant you see

Aleksey was known for being alone in his dorm, the way he silently stayed at night was relatively creepy to his roommates, as was his rather obvious sexuality. So it was 3 in the morning, the others were out, doing whatever the hell they did, leaving the brain dead Russian to his work, which to them consisted of sitting in one spot, legs tied together, staring at the wall while the IV forced nourishment into his undeserving body. If anyone deserved to die, it was him.

But here he was, alive... at least. As the brush pulled the watercolors down the canvas, fed by the tiniest bit of water he could get from the sink, his mind was finally relaxed. It was only in the wee hours of the morning when his mind wasn't racing. Not many people knew that, though his body didn't work, his mind was racing to solve difficult math equations in his mind, he would recite the digit Pi silently to himself, after knowing it to the 2,000th digit. As the brush pulled the colors down, Aleksey was...

Smiling. He never smiled when he was around other people, and for the first time in ages, he was willing to share his knowledge to the world. Unless someone asked something he didn't know the answer to... then they'd have to wait until that same time tomorrow.

His wide, brown eyes shot to the girl that entered the room and moved around, and suddenly the smile was replaced by a deep frown. A look of utter shock, if there ever was one. After stuttering for a bit, instinctively saying his name, he realized that she wasn't introducing herself. Well, fuck. What was she asking? He ran through his list of things in his mind... it sounded like doing... AHA! She wanted to know what he was doing! Not what his name was, silly boy.

"Am.. painting" Wasn't it obvious? He had a canvas sitting on his broken legs, a brush in hand, and a huge mass of water color tubes on the bed next to him... damn right he was painting.

........
Outfit: here
Words: lazzzy
Tagged: holloway~
Lyrics: rescue me . tokio hotel
Notes:sofuckingcute
Aleksey's emotions: does aly even have the capacity for emotions?
Credit: RAWR?! of cautionalso known as kali of nevermore. do not remove credit.

[HOLLOWAY MARIE JONES]

The girl smirked at the way he spoke. He was surely challenged in some way, and the more she observed him, the more she realized how far gone he truly was. Holloway let her faded blue eyes drift down to the canvas he painted on, but could not quite make out what it was he was trying to portray through the watery colors. She tilted her head a few ways and even squinted a bit before deciding that questioning the child might be a better solution to the problem of her curiosity. "What is it?" She spoke clearly, but no slower. He was going to have to keep up, even if he worked a bit slower then she did. Hell for all she knew his little mind could have been full of wondrous ideas that he just didn't know how to express, but she didn't know. As she awaited his answer, she studied his clothing. The style seemed to be a bit gothic, black and purple were classic goth colors in the eyes of the girl who rather chose the scene style. Her long hair framed her face rather well, making her light eyes stick out against her tanned skin and dark hair. She enjoyed being beautiful and it truly was something that she put much time into.

So at least this child wasn't scared of her and wasn't going to throw some sort of freak tantrum because she had broken into his room. Maybe he would later on, but hopefully not. Holloway had no idea what would happen to her if she got caught in here, and she didn't really want to find out quite yet because she knew the god damn staff would watch her every move then since all trust for the girl would be lost. Holloway rolled her eyes, annoyed at the fact that she had ended up in this stupid place. There was no way on earth she could ever call this home, not after where she had lived before. So what, it had been a simple normal town house. She had a pink room thanks to her moms painting and refusing to repaint. She had little friends, thanks to her attitude and history. And she had little to do with her boring life, but she had a bed that was rather comfortable, food that was delicious, and her dog that she missed dearly. That was why she wanted out. She wanted to go back to the life she hardly had. Did this kid want out? Wait ... what was his name? "What's your name sweetie?" She questioned softly, hoping her voice was comforting to the boy as he painted away.

[/size][/font]

[ALEKSEY HENDRY VASILYEV]

COME AND RESCUE ME
im burning cant you see

Aleksey looked at her intently, listening to her words, noting how they looked as they left her mouth. They reminded him of how Russia looked. Rich reds and golds everywhere, made beautiful by the presence of Beau, the child he held so close to his heart. Some said that he suffered from ESP, but that was a lie. Aleksey Vasilyev enjoyed every moment of his “disorder,” how the words looked, how numbers sounded… especially the number Pi. A lovely melody, full of crashes and bangs… and the most relaxing number, the one that put him to sleep the most often when he lie awake, his eyes closed. 7,375,927,931. The distance in kilometers from the Sun to Pluto at its furthest distance. Repeated, that number would put him to sleep. 7,375,927,931… 7,375,927,931… 7,375,927,931… He heaved a dreamy sigh before looking at the girl again.

Trailing his eyes back to the artwork in his lap, Aleksey loaded his brush with a muted blue-black, splattering it up the bottom, doing the same with reds, oranges, yellows and even a light blue on occasion, all flaming up to frame the white, boy shaped mass of white, held by fire colored lines acting as tentacles, ready to pull him apart, bit by bit. He looked back up at her. Did she want to know what it was called, or what it was about? He hadn’t titled the painting yet, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to do it in English. Instead, he rattled off something about it in his native language. Russian. After all, if he didn’t come up with something, his mind would break.

”Akt otchayaniya, zavernutyĭ v ogne… smertʹ moya pervaya lyubovʹ.” As he moved the canvas off of his lap, pushing the watercolors into the drawer on his nightstand, setting the tiny cup of water on the arm rest to his wheelchair, and moving into a more comfortable position… laying down. He hated to sit up, no clue why. He hummed the relaxing melody from his second most favorite number, looking up at the girl. She had asked his name, and then said something else… an insult? He ignored it, looking at his broken feet. It was now obvious why he wore those pants, they kept his legs still. It was near impossible to keep them in plaster, otherwise they’d e unable to monitor him. And that would be bad.

”Ya Aleksey… vy mogli zamedlitʹ? Angliĭskiĭ ne yavlyaet•sya moim rodnym yazykom, i ya vas ne ponimayu.” And there he was, being a smartass. He rattled off quickly in Russian, a difference from his slow English, proving to her how important it was to speak in a way everyone could understand. After all, she wouldn’t look like an idiot speaking slowly to him. He had troubles understanding words if they weren’t in his native tongue, and by god, she would have to understand that.

........
Outfit: here
Words: lazzzy
Tagged: holloway~
Lyrics: rescue me . tokio hotel
Notes:"An act of despair, wrapped in flames. The death of my first love."
"I'm Aleksey... and could you slow down? English isn't my first language, and I can't understand you."
Aleksey's emotions: does aly even have the capacity for emotions?
Credit: RAWR?! of cautionalso known as kali of nevermore. do not remove credit.

[HOLLOWAY MARIE JONES]

Holloway waited calmly for an answer, watching his movement as he loaded the brush with a new color and ran it over the canvas. It was intriguing, watching someone else paint. The girl wasn't easily amused by much, but watching the distinct way people went about doing simple tasks made her mind think about it even more. Her thoughts were interrupted when suddenly words spilled from his mouth, stuck together and highly non-understandable. Holloway let her mouth hang open rudely for a few moment before closing it and thinking for a bit at what it was he could have possibly said. So that's why he had an accent. He was from a different place. Holloway had never really looked into other languages, therefore she had absolutely no idea what it was he was speaking. Whatever he said must have been a description of what it was he was working so intently on. The girl decided to leave it at that. He obviously didn't quite know how to put it in English words and she wasn't about to force him into it. After her next question, she waited again, watching what he was doing. The boy adjusted himself so that he was laying down instead of sitting up. Whatever made him more comfortable was fine with her. Once again, the boy spoke and Holloway was instantly confused. Okay, so his name was Aleksey. That was manageable. But what the hell else did he say? God she hated it when people spoke in a different language around her. For all she knew he could have been throwing insults at her in some distance language. Stupid, why had she never taken a language in school. Oh right, it wouldn't have mattered. She was always out so freaking much anyways.

The girl sat again for a few moments, thinking of what to say before opening her mouth to reply. "I don't understand what you said." She spoke slowly this time, saying each of her words clearly. So not only was he challenged but he was foreign. She'd give him the benifit of the doubt and take it slow and easy for him. She wasn't up for being a bitch this early in the morning. That just wasn't quite how she worked. "Where are you from?" She was genuinely curious at where this boy had come from since his accent and language were highly unknown to her.

[/size][/font]

[ALEKSEY HENDRY VASILYEV]

COME AND RESCUE ME
im burning cant you see

The Russian's eyes turned down for a split second and he bit his lip, moving to put his painting in his wardrobe. It wasn't hard for him to do, the huge thing was near his bed. He didn't look back up at her for a few moments, he was too busy thinking.. as he always was. Not Aleksey's fault, his mind constantly had to move, else it would shut down for real and he would need workers with him all the time to ensure that he was still breathing.

"Am from Russia. Is lovely place." He smiled, pulling out one of the many notebooks full of memories. Without those, he surely would have forgotten about his mother country in his periods of mental exhaustion, constantly being filled with numbers, counting games and equations that only Aleksey would find fun to do in his mind.

He opened up the book, careful not to smear the old ink pages as he flipped to one without any photographs taped to it. "I.. help kids learn reading and math long time ago." Clearly he couldn't do that anymore, his mind was too advanced in one aspect, too deteriorated in another... in many. His body didn't work right... according to the doctors here who never saw him eating, as was made obvious by the IV drip near his bed, hooked to his arm, forcing vitamins into his body, which in reality was making life easier for the somewhat young painter. He didn't have to take time out of his day to force himself to eat, and he wouldn't waste away to nothing.

His eyes didn't leave the pages and he bit his lip, fighting the desire to read it out loud. "A-and you?" He swallowed hard, looking up at her. "Where... are.. you from?"

........
Outfit: here
Words: lazzzy
Tagged: holloway~
Lyrics: rescue me . tokio hotel
Notes:
Aleksey's emotions: does aly even have the capacity for emotions?
Credit: RAWR?! of cautionalso known as kali of nevermore. do not remove credit.

[HOLLOWAY MARIE JONES]

Holloway nodded as the boy spoke. So his broken self had been sent here all the way from Russia. Wow he must have way too many problems for the foreign doctors then, because the doctors here weren't real good at whatever it was that they were trained to do. Holloway smirked as he spoke of what he use to do. So he was a tutor over in Russia. He must have been really smart then, since he was a tutor so young. Then again, maybe he still was smart and she just didn't understand the way he worked. It was as if the girls eyes had just opened when she noticed the large dresser behind him. That was where he was setting his painting for the moment. So he was going to be done and was going to talk to her more? Oh how lovely. Maybe she could teach the boy a thing or two about making eye contact instead of constantly staring away from the person he was talking to. He was making a rather nasty habit of it already and it was beginning to slightly annoy Holloway. The girl smiled at him when he actually looked up at her and asked where she was from. Hell, where was she from? She had been in this damn place so long she had practically forgotten all about her past. Holloway thought it was a cool little idea of Aleksey's to keep a book of memories like the one she supposed sat in his lap. Maybe she would try that. Keep a journal or something of memories that she missed from home. Maybe she could even get her mom to send her a few pictures of her and the few friends she had. Then again ... now that she thought about it ... her mom wouldn't send any pictures. She wasn't going to give Holloway anything to make her feel better. She wanted the girl to suffer so much that she straightened out. That was her way of thinking. That was her method to her madness.

Holloway shook the thought of her mom from her mind and focused in on Aleksey's question. Where the hell was she from. "I'm from a place called Green Castle." The girl spoke slowly and clearly now out of habit from being around Aleksey. "It is here. In the states." Gosh it sounded funny to say it is. Everyone just said it's these days. Gosh where on Earth had the love of proper English gone?