Tales of a Twisted Mind
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    Tales of a Twisted Mind
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    Name: Jessica Lucino, a.k.a. Luciano.

    Age: Twenty nine years.

    Hometown: Chicago, Il.

    Current Residence: Rhydin.

    Occupation: Street Pharmacist. Specializing in Narcotics.

    "You ever watch someone tie off their arm, teeth holding the end of the rubber wrapped around their arm, syringe in hand and injection slowly made? Waiting for that sweet blissful rush to kick in and take over? And then the warm sense of relaxation and security; the idea of protection; the dissipation of all fear, hunger, and anxiety. Nearly orgasmic the feeling is so ******* intense. Their anger and frustration simply fading away like magic. Like a miracle. A ******* miracle worker. That's what I am."

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    Sometime when she had a moment to herself and jades were staring off at a glass covered wall of her lab, Jessica stopped to allow a memory to sweep over her. One for whatever reason she couldn't push it back and opened it up, letting it spill to the depths of her mind and swell up the tear ducks in her eyes.

    You always did drag your heels for me dove.
    Haven't you learned?


    Dropping into the steel rolling chair, her bare heel hooked on the highest rung as her head dropped to the table top she had been standing at. The sobs echoed against the glass walls of her lab, (her soul), leaving dewy evidence against notebooks with her scribbling of formulas and ideas for various things in business. A side no one saw, no one that could speak at least, was Jessica's torn emotions over the past and the future that she knew was to come. Fingers smudged against the linings of her eyes, salt stains mixing with the droplets of sweat coming from the back of her neck to line her jaw.

    Trapped like a rat, and while her heart beat faster in her chest, the nervous breathing was kept silent. Holding her breath. Waiting for him to move before he found--

    Tap tap tap tappity tap tap. The whistling broken into the heated evening as well as the sound of his cane. Letting the sounds bounce off the walls of the alleyway while he followed the trail. He found her. "Haven't you missed me dove? You know it's been so long since we-"

    "Stop right there or I'll do what I did to your leg to the rest of your body Da--" Her sentence caught off as he continued his approach, ignoring her words and lacing his palm over her throat, pressing with only slight force.

    "Funny you bring that up. Because I'm here to finish up that experiment. The training isn't quite finished. The mistakes have been seen to. I know the one I made last time won't be. How is Nicademo by the way? Perhaps I should see about making a visit with him, remind him of the changes that were made." His chuckle was low, thriving in the fact that he's winning. And even expecting the sudden force she was throwing at him, trying to shove him off of her.

    The gold handle rolled in his hand before the tip was snapped at her face, the wood as well slapping across her face as his grin widened. "You always did drag your heels with me dove. Haven't you learned?" Leaving her to answer the question in her head, rough fingers slopped down her neck and grabbed onto the chain around her neck. Wrapping and twisting it around his knuckles, giving light pressure to her neck as he tugged slightly. Leaning in to murmur quietly as hazels sparkled over her face, "I know I have." Kissing her fiercely and only pulling back until after she bit his lip.


    Cutting off the memory before his laughter echoed in her mind any more, she slid her hand down over her face as she sat up. As if to wipe off the blood he had spit back at her, but just clearing away the last few tears.

    Leaning back against the support of the steel chair, one arm crossed her chest while the other laid splayed at her throat. Fingering the chain slowly before sending a look out the doors of the closed lab. Like a fish in a fish bowl, only without anyone watching after her.

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    Tales of a Twisted Mind
    For a moment, the room could have felt warmer.

    Granted, the pharmacist was always hot to the touch, just one of many reasons for the family nickname. But the hospital always felt cold to her. She hated it with its bare walls and its empty hallways. The numerous doors you had to go through and the checking and signing in that they did. The nurses didn't care like she did, and the doctors didn't know enough and didn't share enough details.

    She wasn't the perfect visitor herself, known too well for barking out orders and growling and hissing at the wards that stopped by with the claims they were only doing their jobs. And then there were the repetitive times she's blown out parts of hospital wings, left more than one night shift nurse in a pool of blood...it was a wonder they allowed her in the hospital at all anymore.

    Then again, sometimes when you're tied to underground kingpins, have a heavy last name to drop, and actually did pay for the damages you'd caused, one could see why they did. And in Rhydin it didn't seem so hard to constantly return to the scene of a crime.

    But as much as she despised this place, she still knew when she couldn't be the one to tend to him and when Nonno needed outside care. She could tell that he was dropping more weight, but tried to pretend that it was because he wasn't eating anything that she was fixing him. Being pulled out of the ICU would make it easier for her to sneak in the homemade soups, but it still wasn't just the same. Jessica knew that nothing was going to be the same this time.

    Tucked away in a single room, a room trying its hardest to make itself seem like a home with its scattered trinkets, flowers from her uncle and half forgotten memories Jessica reminded Nonno of daily, he laid there propped in the bed. Hair was combed, more salt than pepper, and a pair of childlike eyes were looking around in wonderment. The dead weight of his paralyzed right hand was held in a sling across his chest and Jessica tugged on the cuff of his blue paisley pajamas.

    Voice was barely at a whisper, soft and not in a tone few would ever hear from her. "...wanted to share the feather with you. And the train he brought all the way from California. He said he would stop by to play for you tonight. I know I don't offer many people to see you, and you understand why. He's not going to say anything about what you used to do. Stop interrupting..." Light banter back to his garbled speech, stuck on the 'd' syllable as he bubbled up in a tongue that Jessica really was the only one to understand after so long. "Now you need to stay awake long enough for him to come by and --"

    Odd enough, but her heart sank when the old man burst into a sudden sob. Leaning against the side of the bed, her hands weren't smooth and free of scratches or bruises or broken pieces, but they still slid across his face to brush off his tears. "Look at me. Look into my eyes. Tell me, do you see that I am always by your side? Or has the world got you down on your knees? Come to me. Shhhh."

    His left hand's grip was white knuckled on her arm as he latched onto her, overcome with emotion as he released it soon into her shoulder. Both of her arms wrapped around the old man, smoothing his hair as she continued with the same bit that usually calmed him down. "Cuz when you cry, all your tears I will wipe away, and when you laugh, who you think got you that way? And when you dream, when you wake up, is it me you want to see?" Tilting his head back and down to the pillow, she left a kiss across his temple and a finger tip to dot his nose. "Don't you want to be happy?"

    Calmed down, Nonno's faint smile matched Jessica's as she looked down to him. "I don't think he'll play her, but maybe when I can get the splint off. Now what do you say when he walks in the door?" Testing for the only word her minor speech therapy had been able to teach.

    "Hellllllllllllllllllllllloooooo."

    "Perfect."

    Desdenova knew the hospital. So well. Not that one, but another. He had grown up, practically, within the determined cheer of a childrens specialty ward. It held all of his fears and none of them. It was a strange juxtiposition.

    Bea was a service dog, he admitted that without hesitation there. Not a seeing eye dog, but rather, she scented or sensed Desdenovas' seizures before they could happen, and was trained to sit on him until the displacement ended. They couldn't take the Maltese from him, they couldn't protest. More clean than most of the humans entering, in any case, she was.

    The youth had changed back into a sober and dark suit. He entered the small room quietly, a flickering warmth of smile given as he offered the pup for the old man to pet. Silky and calm, and trained for just that sort of therapy, Bea was a drop of joy for the stroking.

    The violin was old, but nothing special. Desdenovas' ways with it, his movements and care, clearly he had been taught by virtuosos, though he was not one. He played well, seeming to place more of heart than actual skill into the instrument.

    And would play for as long as allowed.

    Desdenova might have never realized just what it meant to her from the offer of him playing for Nonno. But she was sure that the cold hospital room felt warmer when the music started playing.

    ( bits by Keri Noble, and special thanks to Des' player for their part )

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