Psychotic (for Liam Dale)

[Greiver Dhark]

Never in a person’s life did they expect to find themselves in a psychiatric hospital, at least as far as he believed. Though, what he believed wasn’t always right, he knew, after a year in that hell hole, spending more time lost in his own delusions than in the real world around him. He’d never expected to be released, not that they had any real reason to keep him.

The youngest child of a wealthy family, he’d had his life fairly easy in the beginning. Not left wanting, at any rate, though he wouldn’t say he was spoilt. His birth had caused complications and his mother had died in childbirth, destroying the illusion of a happy family. His sister, seven years his senior, had pretty much raised him herself until he was fifteen. His father steadily drinking himself to the grave, hadn’t been there for either of his children years before his eventual death.

And in the end he’d doomed them all, setting the house afire in a drunken rage during dinner. His sister only came over once a week after she turned twenty, having moved out by then. More often drunk than not, it had been no surprise the state their father George was in, though he still insisted he cook dinner himself. And he’d let it burn, opening the oven door to get a face full of smoke, only to lose his temper with the appliance and shake it where it stood, dislodging the gas pipe and setting the whole house ablaze.

It was pathetic really, he’d brought upon his own end because of a burnt dinner. And taken his daughter with him.

Burned up his right side but not permanently damaged, fifteen year old Alexandros Dharken had been taken to hospital. It would have been alright if his uncle hadn’t intervened, a man they’d never seen but heard plenty of abuse about from George as a greedy no-good swindler. A lawyer, in fact, with his eyes set on young Alexandros’ inheritance. It had been far too easy to declare him insane and disinherit him, cast him from the family and into the arms of a juvenile psychiatric facilty.

It hadn’t been too bad really. He’d seen his sister burn to death, he could do with some peace and quiet.

But he couldn’t stay there forever. The newly named ‘Greiver Dhark’ left the Juvenile psych facility for the adult version, three years later. And he’d spent a year at the new place, Saint Holme’s psychiatric hospital had not been a welcome change, not at all. Years of hiding within his own mind, white walls and quiet solitude, changed to a straight jacket, off white floor tiles and screaming. It was no longer about healing and recovery, it was about forcing the patients to recover, or just get madder and madder. Few recovered.

The year he’d stayed there, it felt longer than the three years he’d been in the juvie facility before. It felt like an eternity, even if he’d barely been aware for half of it. His delusions had gotten worse, and nothing they did would ever help him get better.

But then the government started cracking down on places like saint Holme’s, places that spent more time cutting into patient’s brains than trying to help them through therapy. Places that used the patients like test subjects instead of people. He’d been released aged nineteen, let loose, just like that. Either he’d make his own way or he’d put himself in jail but either way, they let him go, after a stint in the hospital first, of course.

And he’d been doing alright, he really had. He didn’t have much money, only some of what the government had given him, to keep him quiet, give him a place to stay. Despite the money he’d found himself in a homeless shelter for a few nights, until they’d set him up in a house, a shared one, with the second occupant pending. He couldn’t very well get a job, he had no qualifications, never finished school though he’d lost most of his memory anyway. He could barely remember to function and still spent about as much time dreaming as he did fully conscious. It wasn’t unusual to find himself in the middle of the city, with no real clue how he’d gotten there, or how to get back.

Things were different now though, so much different. His world was brighter now, and less red than Holmes’, and he wore clothes that didn’t restrain him. His hair was growing back too, covering the scars on his scalp. He looked almost normal really, if you didn’t count his almost purple eyes. He didn’t remember how he got them, but he didn’t remember how he got many of the changes his body now exhibited, from scars to facial hair and so much more.

Most of it he knew he just didn’t want to remember, but he could if he tried. Remembered needles in his eyes and knives in his head and electricity coursing through his body. He was pretty sure he’d bitten his own tongue off at one point but when he stuck it out it was still there, he couldn’t see any difference to it. Maybe he’d been dreaming that part, it wasn’t like he could tell.

He’d been living in this new apartment for two weeks now, and it had been six months from his release from Holmes, and one month since he’d gotten out of hospital; the doctors had had to put him back together again first, and make sure he wasn’t violent before they let him go, but he’d spent most of that time sedated. He was alone now, if not in his mind, but he no longer had nurses making sure he ate, taking care of him and providing for him, like he was used to. Living on his own was new, but it wasn’t easy. It was difficult to remember things and even harder to fit to a schedule; he’d miss meals and sleep whenever he couldn’t stay up any longer, afraid of what his dreams might bring.

His government connection, a social worker called Jen, told him that his new housemate would be coming soon. She was supposed to come by once a week to make sure he was doing okay, though she usually came around every other day at least. She’d filled his cupboards with food, showed him how to live by himself, and cooked him food to eat during the day. The house was government owned so he didn’t have to worry about bills, she said, but things like budgeting and taking care of himself, he’d have to learn about those.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of distractions. He was always distracted, but he’d been taught to make a good impression, even if, upon deeper thought, he didn’t know how. He’d pulled on some clean clothes, and he’d showered and shaved (Jen had taught him, and he’d only cut himself twice). It was odd having so much hair. He was used to having his hair shaved off, face and head, but it was nice to have his hair on his head back, even if he was still a bit unused to that on his face. The black tresses came to his ears now, he wanted it down to his chin, just because he could.

Either way, he was ready. He’d not touched the second bedroom, as promised, and he’d not left a mess, a quick glance around and then a double check to make sure the drawings on the wall weren’t real- they weren’t, and he faced the door again, expectant, slightly nervous, but determined to do his best. Greiver Dhark was starting a new life.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance, at his 25, was sitting at the passenger seat of his friend and the only person who had taken care of him in a long time. She told him she had found a place for him, a shared house, with some other unfortunate guy. Not that Lance cared about living with someone else, after such a long time living on the streets, the idea of going back to a real house and not a shelter was simply great.

Coming from a rich family of absent parents that were never there for him, unless there was some kind of social event, in those times, they were the perfect model family, of course. His older sister was a doctor and his brother was lawyer, the family achievements, but Lance's hobby was swimming and he was training to be an Olympic swimmer. After years of begging, his parents finally allowed him to drop school to focus on his training. He was missed at school after he left for both girls and boys, seen as the perfect boy, the athlete, that also had good grades if he wanted to, but he didn't had any real friends. Being gay and hiding it from everybody wasn't easy for him and sometimes it kept him away from people.

Only when was almost eighteen and after winning a competition, he decided to tell his parents. They seemed so happy and proud of him, that Lance thought it was a good a moment to come out and try to be himself around his parents and finally stop all the questions about why he didn't have a girlfriend yet. And so he told them that night, while they were coming back home, and he was never allowed into his home again, since that moment. Claiming it to be a sin and other religious bullshit, as Lance always saw it, his father kicked him out, and his mother just did nothing to stop him, or try to bring his younger child back home.

Lance left with what he had on his backpack, a change of clothes and cellphone. More than leaving, at first what he did was waiting, hours at the door, hoping his parent would think about it, but they didn't. And finally Lance left them, walking the night from the suburbs to down town. He had little cash that kept him fed that night, and that was all. He ended up selling everything.

One night, Dr. Linda Sanders found him, or the shadow of what he used to be. The young but well built swimmer body was gone, his face and arms tanned, his skin was dry and the cold of winter had cracked his lips. The ash blonde hair that once was short and always well styled was now a long tangle. His bright blue eyes had lost their shine, the red around them was bright though. But maybe the most distinctive was his coughing, that was what called Sanders' attention that night.

Used to work with people in Lance's situation, she stopped by him and took a moment to study him, before saying or doing anything, but she finally decided to take him with her to the clinic. Lance answered all of her questions, thinking that she would only give him new pants and send him back to the street, but he was wrong. During that night, while Sanders, as he always called her, run some test on him, Lance told her his whole life.

He learnt soon enough that he could get money, food or clothes in exchange for himself, a boy of his look wasn't common at all on the streets and there were more than one person interested in him. Lance met a drug dealer, and somehow he started working for him, selling for him and always finding a way to get tips from the clients for himself. And so he survived, until Sanders found him.

She helped him a lot. First of all, she made him leave the dealer, but he still had his ways to get what he was into. She gave him clothes, shoes, let him shower at the clinic and cut his hair, she started buying him food almost daily and tried to make him to go to sleep at shelters. But Lance hated them, shelters were always crowded and he couldn't sleep without waking up to find out his stuff was gone.

Once she had the tests back, and knowing he had chronic pneumonia, she took care of his treatment. But she could only give him the medicine once every month, and Lance turned to drugs to ease the symptoms. When he was high, there was no hunger, no pain, nothing, and having his mind out of himself, there was no way he could care about what could happen to him. As far as he knew, he was quite happy while being out.

More than a year later, and seeing a yet slow but constant improvement in Lance, Sanders decided to call Jen, a social worker and friend of her, to try and help him. She made him promise to leave the drugs, knowing it was going to be so hard for him, but it was also the best.

Lance glanced the house from the car and sighed, now that he had to leave Sanders, he wasn't that sure about the whole idea. Sanders pushed him a little, smiling at him and encouraging Lance to get down the car and knock the door. He showed her a small smile and took a look of himself at the rearview mirror, he definitely looked a lot more as he used to, he looked more like someone at least half ready to live at a house. He left the car, and walked to the door, carrying his backpack, a gift from Sanders along with everything inside of it. Lance knocked the door, and waiting standing out there felt eternal for him, his mind filled with questions about the other guy. He only knew that he had lost his home and family and spent years at a hospital, something about some mind issues, but nothing more, he didn't even knew his name. Lance looked back, only to see that Sanders smiled at him and left. He sighed again, tightening his scarf a little around his neck.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

As soon as the door was knocked on Greiver jumped forwards to open it. "Hi." He greeted, shyly but chirpy, excited to meet this new strangers. New people hadn't usually meant much to Greiver; new kids at the juvie facility had lived out their lives alongside him but not really a part of his life, and at the asylum he'd been isolated just like everyone else. The only new people there were the doctors who he sometimes saw when they tested on him, and those new people he didn't like at all. But Jen had assured him that this boy wasn't like those people, she reminded him that those sorts of things weren't going to happen any more. No getting strapped down, no more pain. He was okay with that.

"Do you not have any stuff?" He asked. His arms weren't strong enough to help with any belongings anyway so it was good that Lance didn't have much; his arms were about as useful as noodles at his sides, and wasn't that an interesting idea? His mind visualised his arms as noodles for a few seconds before he shook it off; how could he make his hot chocolate if he had noodles for arms? Either way they weren't very strong; a year of laying strapped to a bed had allowed them to atrophy and he had excersizes to do to try and help his body recover.

Greiver tilted his head in thought and smiled when he felt his hair shift with the movement; he loved having hair again. "I don't have much stuff. Jenny gave me some clothes though, aren't they great?" He smiled, but despite his words he hunched in a bit, shyly tugging at the hem of his shirt. Honestly his clothes weren't that great, but they fit well enough and compared to a strait jacket they were practically heaven. "Jen said I must wear them whenever I come out of my room." He told him. "So you should too." He hadn't known that, but she'd acted strange when she visited last week and he'd not had any clothes on. Now he tried to remember to put them on all the time, even though he felt much freer without them.

Greiver startled though, shuffling back to clear himself out of the entrance way and then bustling towards the kitchen. Eventually his wandering eyes caught the appropriate instruction sheet, and he read it through to make sure he'd followed the steps. There were lots of sheets of paper stuck to the walls, sticky notes on doors with tips for Greiver to follow. He read them aloud, the ones he was reading now. "Issue greeting, I did that one... ask your guest if they would like some refreshments." His head popped up. "Would you like some refreshments?" These lists were really useful.

 

[Liam Dale]

"Hey..." Lance replied with a small smile, eyes slowly moving up and down as he studied his new room mate, or sort of. He seemed happy to have company, or at least enthusiastic, that was good, it made Lance to feel welcomed. He glanced around the house quickly, wondering why was he still outside, it was cold and standing at the door step wasn't exactly the best for him. He gave one step forward but he still remained outside. "Um..." Lance pulled his backpack from his shoulder and showed it to the other guy, making a slight frown and tilting his head to the side. "Just this..." He said with a sigh. "Jenny?" Apparently this guy knew Jen very well, Lance only saw her a few times and always accompanied by Sanders, he barely had spoken to her in those occasions.

The guy was weird, to say the least, now the mind issues thing was confirmed by Lance. He'd never saw someone so excited about wearing clothes, not even among the people he knew, and especially, he'd never met someone that needed another person to remind him to wear clothes. "Don't worry about it" He grinned. "And your clothes looks-" Lance couldn't help to move back a little as the other shifted and walked away. "Great..." He finally stepped forward and closed the door behind him. Taking a look around the house as he walked toward the kitchen, to discover the sticky notes practically all over the room.

Lance stopped his walking though, as the other asked about the refreshments, yet, more than a refreshment, a coffee would have been great. "Sure..." If this guy was used to move like that around the house it would be a stress generator, Lance was used to react on the defensive when people startled at him, and it would take him a while to adapt. Finally he choose to stay where he was, by the couch and after a moment he sat down and felt like he could lay there and sleep for weeks without waking up, it was so comfortable, Lance couldn't help but to imagine how good his bed would feel. He leaned back, closing his eyes and smiling a little as he relaxed his body, breathing deeply as he dropped his backpack on the floor, between his legs. Another thing to change, he would have never to defend and keep a close eye to his stuff again.

He suddenly opened his eyes and glared toward the kitchen for an instant to then get up and walk over the other guy. "What's your name?" He asked as he got closer. "I'm Lance." He smiled at the other.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Perking up at the acceptance of the offer for refreshments, Greiver puttered around the kitchen (looking at post-its to figure out what he should do next) and eventually put the kettle on and opened up the fridge. When Lance approached him he was fixing the mugs and humming his way around the kitchen. He stopped when the other man neared though, smiling at him. "Oh!" He'd forgotten about introductions, he still wasn't used to introducing himself. Usually anyone who spoke to him already knew who he was and it was rare that they bothered to introduce themselves, considering him mentally deficient.

"I'm Greiver." He informed, beaming at Lance before resuming what he was doing. Moments later Lance had a mug of hot chocolate in his hands same as Greiver, who seemed to be appreciating the drink thoroughly. He took a few sips and seemed to remember something else as he did so. "Oh! Jen said she'll be by later but I'm to make you settled when you got here. You can help yourself here - there's lots of food and hot chocolate." There was other drinks than hot chocolate, but given the very large tub of cadbury's hot chocolate and various smaller tubs of various other brands and flavors, it was clear what he liked best. There was coffee and also tea stuffed in there somewhere though, but otherwise the cupboards stocked mostly dry food.

It became clear why when he opened the freezer to show Lance all the food in it - half a dozen containers with marker pen identifying the contents and microwave times required filled the cold box. "I'm not allowed to use this." He said, waving at the cooker. "But you're allowed to. You can have some of this food though; Jen cooked it." Greiver informed him. "You can use anything in the house, Jen is helping me budget and she makes sure I have everything I need. Oh! Do you want to see your room?" He asked, setting his mug down on the side. "Its the first one upstairs. I haven't gone inside." He promised cheerfully, already leading the way up.

((BTW here are the floor plans for the house. They're on the small side, but it just gives you a basic layout. Mostly for my reference since if I don't have a record I end up with them living in the TARDIS - where rooms and things keep moving around >_>" ))

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance finished his way and sat down, taking a time to practically sink his nose into the warm smell of hot chocolate, he sighed as he enjoyed something that felt like new in his life, he couldn't remember the last time he had had hot chocolate. And it wasn't just the smell and the taste, his hands, wrapped around the mug were soon warm, and the warmth seemed to spread all over his body, moving the cold away and out his body. "Thank you." He said as he left the mug on the table to open his jacket and remove his scarf to place it on the stool next to him and rapidly go back to his chocolate. Greiver seemed happy to have Jen coming over, but for Lance it felt like a control visit, he knew how it worked, people like Jen keep their eyes close to people like him to see if they were still able or worthy of living on their own. He'd seen many people going back to the street after a few months, most of them couldn't stop consuming and so they were kicked out. Lance honestly hoped that wouldn't be his case, but he knew it was going to be incredibly hard for him to get clean. At least he could use Jen's visit to make some questions, maybe he could get a job, but Sanders had probably warned her already about that. After all, all her attempts of finding him a job ended in a bad way, Lance knew it was his fault, but having a seasonal job to then go back to nothing wasn't the best incentive.

He glanced back at his backpack for a second while Greiver was showing the food, thinking about what he was able to sneak into his baggage, just a few hits, and he was determined to keep them until he was out of medicine, although he new he couldn't really trust himself to that. Shaking his head a little he turned back his attention to Greiver, nodding as he told him he was allowed to use the oven. He didn't knew how to cook anything though, shrugging slightly he went back to his mug when the room was mentioned.

"Alright" He replied as he left the mug onto the table and got up to follow Greiver, taking his scarf with him and his backpack from the living room he followed the other upstairs. Lance really didn't care if Greiver had gone into his room or not, he was glad enough having a room for himself. And even if he had to share one with him, it would be way different than sharing a room at a shelter with many other men.

Once at the second floor, Lance opened the door to his room, eyes widening as he saw how big it was, almost too big for him, and so was the bed, a double bed, just for him. He stepped inside and dropped his bag and scarf on the floor to walk straight to the bed, letting his body fall stretched onto the soft surface, his face sinking into the pillow. "A fucking bed..." His voice came out muffled against the pillow. Lance pressed his body down for a moment before turning to lay on his back, feeling like he would never get up again, his whole spine cracked, as the vertebrae began to settle into their right position.

"Your room's next door, right?" He finally spoke again, moving just enough to look over at Greiver

 

[Greiver Dhark]

As Lance entered his room and flopped down on his bed, Greiver stood in the doorway watching and looking around with interest. He didn't cross the threshold and he wasn't staring, but his promise of not going into the room also seemed to include not having looked inside either. He understood the appreciation for having a nice soft bed though - he felt the same way with his bed. Sometimes he just shuffled around under his bedcovers and hummed in happiness at being so comfortable and warm.

When his new housemate addressed him though, Greiver twitched in response as he often did when he was directly spoken to and had become distracted with his own thoughts. "Yes!" He answered reflexively. "Its at the end of the hallway. I painted it. You can paint your room too, and get new sheets and nice things like that if you want." Greiver informed cheerfully. "You can come see my room too." He offered, though he was a little dubious as to whether Lance was going to get up any time soon. "Jen got lots of clothes for me - she might have got some for you too." She had been around the other day but Greiver had drifted off at some point so he wasn't actually sure what she'd brought around.

When Greiver had come to this place it was already waiting for him, filled with the things he'd need. He'd not been in a great state when he got here but he was doing better now. His clothes still hung off his too-thin frame but he was putting weight and muscle on and slowly starting to fill it out. He'd needed a fair bit of care in the beginning, more than now where he could spend most of his time alone with just visits instead of Jen with him all the time. Even though it wasn't her job to be a carer - she worked for the government, not healthcare - she had put herself in Greiver's corner and helped him with whatever he needed, even if he didn't know he needed it.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance sat up slowly at the edge of the bed, thinking how much Greiver reminded him a rabbit or some other kind of small critter, startling at a sudden noise, it was kind of cute, yet still a little weird, but he had no idea what Greiver had been through his life. It seemed like everything was new and exciting for him though, albeit for Lance many things were new as well, he couldn't find excitement in anything, they were just things and didn't occupied his mind much, they never did, not even while he lived with his parents. And now that he was used to have nothing, it was very hard for him to grow some feeling about anything. It was the same for people, he knew very few he could mildly rely on while living on the streets, but eventually lost contact and then it was Sanders, it took him a while to fully trust her, but Lance finally allowed himself to and everything seemed to start getting better after meeting her.

Now Jen seemed to be with Greiver a lot like Sanders was with him, caring and doing more than they were meant to do. Really, Sanders didn't need or have to do anything for Lance, after all she worked at a public health clinic for homeless people with AIDS, and so far he was clean, as Sanders made sure. Her actions came from her heart or her pity and Lance was thankful of course, but he wasn't sure for how long she was going to be there for him. The woman had her own life, she was about to get married and her work didn't pay much, she was in search of a better job when found the house for him, and she seemed more than excited about getting something new and better, although she was worried about the people she would let behind.

"Let's go see that room" He finally said with a smile, getting up and walking over Greiver, waiting a moment to let him lead the way to his room. He wondered what color had Greiver painted his room, his was plain white and a little color wouldn't do bad, maybe a light blue, it would be definitely more relaxing than white walls. But more than blue paint, Lance wanted blue water. There was nothing he missed more than the large swimming pool he used to train in, he wasn't even sure he could remind how to swim again if he ever touched more than the water from the shower again.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Smiling brightly at Lance's agreement to see his room, he pushed up to the tips of his toes and turned around swiftly, trotting down the hall to his room. The door was open in his room, and a purple nightlight in the corner cast its light over the room as the curtains were partially closed. It was the prevalent shade in the room at first glance; the bedsheets were a rich purple, and there was a fluffy purple blanket spread across it slightly rumpled. The furniture was all dark wood, but there were only a few trinkets out to show he lived there, mostly art supplies on the desk. The outer wall was a neutral cream but the wall he shared with Lance's room was the complete opposite of neutral. Greiver had painted it during one of his episodes - putting a pen and paper or any other art supplies in his hands was a safe way of keeping him occupied in such events lest he wander off.

His painting on the wall spread even around the doorframe - though how he'd gotten up that high was anyone's guess, a dark, thick green of inches thick vines made to look like they were wrapped tightly around the door itself. They spread across the wall like something out of a fantasy novel with a forest gone wild for millennium. The painted vines by the door eased a bit towards the bed though, leaving wide openings to show a clearing through the foliage, a hint of blue flowers and purple skies that only made the vines look even more disproportionately large compared to what else was visible. Reality seemed to have very little to do with the image - some of the flower stems were red or gold instead of green and the clouds in the purple sky were bronze.

Greiver paid the wall little mind though, instead he was wriggling his toes in a small plush purple rug in front of his bed Jen had found for him. He smiled, but seemed shy again as he let Lance look around his room. "Jen found lots of nice stuff for me." He informed quietly. He hadn't had anything before he came here - but he didn't remember very much of the last few years. "I have some books you can read too if you want." He pointed to a shelf with some books and more art supplies on it, the books were more exploratory as Jen hadn't known what to get him so there was a small but varied selection, for varying audiences. The book about different cat types was more thumbed through than the rest though, regardless of intended age (none of the stories were childrens books but they were all popular books for teens or young adults, interspersed with adult or non-fiction books.)

 

[Liam Dale]

He followed Greiver, stopping beneath the door frame for a moment, taking a quick look around before stepping into the room. "Wow..." He said glancing over the painted wall, that wasn't what he had in mind at all, it was way better actually. "This is awesome Greiver..." Lance spoke as he got closer to the wall, finding new details. He sucked at painting, and anything related to art, it never interested him, yet Lance knew how to appreciate other's people work, and Greiver's was simply amazing, the green from the vines combined greatly with all the purple stuff. He glanced over the books then, it had been years since the last time he read a book, from the time he dropped school to train. "Thanks." He smiled at the other, walking over the shelf to see the titles, not that he knew any of them, but he felt curious, maybe he could start reading as a pastime. "You like cats?" Lance turned a moment toward Greiver and took the book to leaf through. "I'm more of dogs" He chuckled. Putting the book back on his place he sighed a little, his thoughts going back to the time when he had a dog, a beautiful black cloak German Shepherd, it was a little sad to think that he would be gone.

"Um... I think I'm going back to bed..." He spoke after a moment. Lance was always tired, mostly because he was sick and weakened and also because he used to roam around half of the city almost in a daily basis. Now that he had a bed he felt obliged to himself to go and sleep as much as he could. "Maybe settle down before." He still had to arrange his few stuff and clothes. "Would you call me when Jen's here?" Lance asked, slowly walking out Greiver's room.

Lance got into his room, leaving the door open and dragged his backpack with him to the bed. He sat down and threw everything out. A few pairs of socks and underwear fell to the bed, along with a ragged jean and two t-shirts. He put his clothes aside and finished emptying his bag. He had a small and very basic first aid kit that Sanders gave to him some time ago and always made sure to refill, containing gauze and cotton, hydrogen peroxide, an antibacterial soap, some adhesive bandages, and the medicine he needed to treat his pneumonia. Lance got up with the small white and red box on his hands and placed it upon the nightstand before taking his clothes to put them into the drawers. One last shake to the backpack and everything at the bottom fell. Rubbers from the clinic, a few aspirins, some gum and the last of weed and coke he could save from Sanders' eyes. He put the later items back into his bag, and shoved it into another drawer. The rest of the small things were simply thrown into the small nightstand drawer.

Once he was done, Lance kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket, and then went to bed, this time getting deep down beneath the covers, pulling the pillow with him as he curled into a ball, pressing the soft pillow against his body, it didn't took him much time to fall asleep and soon his snoring was probably heard from Greiver's room.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

"Yup." Greiver answered brightly, looking at the cat book Lance had spotted. "I've never had one before, but Jen says I might be able to get one once I can prove I can take care of myself first. I'm on probation." He informed, bouncing on his toes again. He'd always wanted a cat but had never been in a position to have one of his own before. The best he could do was pet the local cats, and Jen had taken him out to a local shelter when he got out of hospital to cheer him up. "I like dogs too, but they're more dependent." Not something he'd ever have a chance of having himself, though he enjoyed playing with them. It wasn't so easy for him at the moment though; they seemed to have boundless energy when he'd seen them in the park.

"I'll try." He promised - it was the most he could promise though he wasn't too worried. While Lance rested Greiver puttered around the house but mostly kept quiet and let his mind drift off. By the time Jen arrived he'd dozed on the couch for a bit but jumped to his feet at the knock on the door. Jen had a key, but always knocked - as much for respect of his privacy as to let him practice inviting people in. He opened the door for her and greeted her, and Jen clearly knew of his habit to forget to actually invite his visitor in so she inched forwards until he realised and backed up out of the way. The woman was about the same height as Greiver - a bit less than average, with short blond hair and a thick coat and brief case. She was well versed with her charge though and had a good temperament to deal with him as Greiver attempted to be courteous and remember each step.

Soon enough he had her sitting on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, her coat off and hung up and he was pretty sure he'd not missed anything glaring. Jen was smiling at him with a patient expression so he must have done decently enough anyway, and he wasn't worried. With a mug of hotchocolate in his hands too, Greiver yawned a little as he sat on the couch at the end and made himself comfortable. Greiver was excited to tell her about Lance and Jen asked a few questions about how their interaction had gone, not that Greiver would be a great judge for if it had gone poorly but she could see no signs of any such thing. Before long she asked for Greiver to go fetch his new housemate and he leaped up to do so - to Jen's quiet chuckle at his exuberance.

Moments later Greiver was knocking on the door to Lance's bedroom to wake him and invite him down to meet with Jen, with the promise of a hot chocolate once he was downstairs.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance woke up with a frown at the knocking, he slowly stretched his body coming out from beneath the covers and looked over the open door. "It's open..." He said in a whisper, his voice filled with sleep. "Be right there... Thanks." He said after a short sigh. He left the bed slowly almost reluctantly and put on his shoes to drag his feet to the bathroom. Last time he did that was before leaving to that swimming competition, seven years ago, and it was so weird doing it again, having a bathroom, it was great though, he definitely was going to get used to a house commodities quickly.

"Hey Jen." He greeted her as he finished the stairs and walked over her and Greiver. Assuming it was his, Lance took the third mug from the coffee table before sitting down. He wasn't really sure how to act around Jen, she was Sanders' friend but she didn't seem to be like her at all, and Lance had a feeling that she didn't like him much, or trust him. It wasn't her fault though, she was probably taking care of Greiver, but it made Lance a little nervous. He took a few sips from his chocolate while thinking for a few questions. "Could I get a job any time soon?" He paused for a moment. "Sanders told me it would take a time but she wasn't sure how long would it be." Lance knew it was going to be hard for him to find a job, he had to get clean first, and prove that he was ready to be reinserted in society. And especially prove Sanders that he wouldn't get high again, that was the harder part, she knew him too well, and she found out every time he tried to fool her, luckily for Lance, she wasn't rancorous and seemed to understand him very well.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Jen was very protective of Greiver - she had been working with him for over six months, and more before that while he was still in hospital in a coma. She'd become invested in his well being and not just professionally; Greiver was genuinely easy to like because he was open and honest, innocent. The house was at present government owned though, and thus other housemates could use the second bedroom. Lance was the first housemate Greiver had had, and Jen hadn't been given the opportunity to meet him beforehand nor ensure he was the right type of person to have access to Greiver, who was more vulnerable than most people would realise. She was understandably wary of Lance and determined to make sure Greiver wasn't stuck with someone who could be harmful to his well being or development.

"Good afternoon Lance." She greeted, attempting to be warm and friendly though she did examine him carefully. She may not have met him but she had seen his file, and was cautious. People who had lived on the streets were rough, they had often developed a hard shell and Lance had fallen into a bad habit, which posed additional problems. She had to give him a chance to prove her caution unnecessary though. "It may take a while, as any potential employer will need assurances of your reliability and your fitness to work." She told him, blunt but honest. "You may require routine drugs tests for example, which you'll need to pass consistently until its deemed no longer necessary. There may be things you could do to improve your situation though; is there any particular job or industry you'd like to get involved in? If there's a chance of you volunteering that would help. Even if its not in the area you'd eventually like to work in, if you can start some volunteering work it'll prove you're dedicated and reliable, providing you do well. There are some groups that can help people get into particular industries or give those without work experience opportunities like volunteering or apprenticeships, things like that." She explained.

Greiver listened quietly, taking the information in even though it wasn't intended for him. She looked to him now though, as she continued. "Greiver has tried a few sessions through a local group who enable disabled individuals to interact with animals - playing with them, feeding them, things like that, through the local pound. They often take in volunteers to help that happen as well, so even though its not regular work its still helpful and works towards a good cause." Greiver beamed, because he'd enjoyed it a lot even if it was just a short visit and he'd only been able to go a few times so far. He was still worn out by excursions - in truth he got worn out bouncing around the house and was frequently found napping, because his stamina was still very low and he was still recovering.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance heard everything what Jen said carefully, not that he didn't know how the system worked, but he didn't want to miss a detail, nor seem rude or anything, he was trying to get Jen to like him a bit, at least. He would do his best, although he was mostly sure he would fail at first. He used to have such powerful will when he was young, he could do or stop doing whatever he wanted to, it wasn't hard for him to set a goal and go after it in a straight line with no distractions, and now the only thing he wanted was distractions, anything was a good way to avoid acknowledgment of his situation.

"I never had a job before... I'm not sure about what I like... I'll do anything though." He said once Jen was done and he finished his chocolate. "Volunteering at the pound sounds good." Lance added with a brief smile. "I like animals." If that was the best he could get, he would take it, he knew he couldn't be picky and should take whatever that was available for him. He knew Sanders would be proud of him if he started working and that was another incentive, since some time ago, after Sanders and him got closer, her opinion started to slowly become more important to Lance.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

"I'll see what I can do." She promised. "Greiver's next visit to spend a few hours with the animals is a few weeks away still, so I'll see if I can speak to them about you before then and introduce you then if they have any availability." She tilted her head as she examined him, holding her mug in both hands. "If you truly do like spending time with animals we may be able to take you along regardless." She knew how helpful it could be for people to interact with animals - particularly people who had been homeless. Animals didn't judge, they were loyal and loving and playful. That sort of thing was incredibly helpful for people who felt nothing but judged poorly by humans.

Jen wasn't unaffected by Lance's plight but she was still cautious. If she didn't try though, then Lance wouldn't either - and she didn't want him to think that she was writing him off because she wasn't. Her priority was Greiver though, on making sure he recovered and could prove himself fit to live here. Lance could help him do that, or he could destroy all chance for Greiver to live in this house with some independence - he'd be back to another care facility, and they could only hope that his vulnerability wasn't taken advantage of there like in the last place.

"I realise that you've only just arrived here and are still adjusting." Jen told him in a gentle but serious tone. "But I'd like for you to give some thought to your future and what you truly want out of it. You can keep running and hiding, keep avoiding if you want - but it'll put you back on the streets and you know it. You need a goal if you want to live a better life, something to look towards when things get difficult. It could be anything, or anyone, and you might not find out what it is you want for some time, but I recommend that you try." Having something to work towards and look forwards to meant that you had something to focus on to block out all those negative things that could pull you off the path, like the past and present.

While they had been talking, Greiver's attention had started to wander, a slightly absent expression on his face. Jen paid him little mind and merely reached to the coffee table and pulled off the paper and pencils stashed underneath, so they slid onto Greiver's lap. Without looking, Greiver started drawing, humming intermittently to a made-up tune. Well used to these episodes, Jen was aware of him but left her charge to his own devices as she resumed her conversation with Lance.

"In the meantime you'll be here, sharing this house with Greiver." The young man didn't react to the sound of his name, drawing something on his page scarcely looking at it, some other strange place he saw as his mind drifted away. "I hope that you succeed and that you heal also, but you already know that my main concern is him. I won't give you a shovel talk, though I'd be tempted." Despite how serious the conversation had turned, Jen laughed softly. Greiver wasn't her brother or anything of the sort, but she rather felt like she'd become his mother-figure in a way. "I'll be around as often as I can be but you should be aware that there are still things going on - politically and legally, regarding Greiver. He's trying to start his life here and having people know where he lives could cause a lot of problems, so please try and keep it quiet." It might leak out anyway, but they were trying to keep him hidden. Greiver's mental state would suffer if he had reporters hassling him, he wouldn't understand.

There was a rustling as Greiver started a new page, drawing what looked like a giant pale blue ermine-like creature chasing green butterflies. "I am wary of you living in this house, because I don't know you and I don't trust you. I will try to give you every chance, and every opportunity in this life as I can. I'd like to be able to trust you to look out for Greiver when you can." Jen sighed - there were few people in Greiver's corner, but she couldn't yet trust Lance until she knew him better. "If you have any questions about anything - yourself or Greiver, my phone number is written down by the phone. Similarly if you have any trouble with him or he seems to be unhappy, call me straight away. I won't explain right now but just trust me - if he seems genuinely troubled then call me. He does have nightmares so don't worry about those." It was difficult to explain without delving into Greiver's medical history, and she couldn't trust Lance with that yet anyway. For now, hopefully it would do. Either way, she hoped that Lance recovered - and ideally that his presence was good for Greiver.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance wasn't surprised with Jen's words, she was right, she had no reason to trust him, sometimes it was hard to believe that Sanders really trusted him, but maybe was that trust what made Lance finally decide to do what she wanted and thought it was the best for him. One thing he didn't understand was the big deal about bringing people over, why would anyone care about a guy who draws in the walls? It was kind of a downer, he finally had a place and he couldn't invite anyone, he could bring Sanders but she didn't count, maybe it was for the best, after all, Lance didn't knew anyone who could or would help him to change and improve. He did see in Jen her wish for him to get better, if it was to make sure Greiver would be fine or because she cared even a little about him, Lance didn't care, he was happy enough knowing that there were two people that wanted him to get better.

He looked over at Greiver as he started drawing, and when Jen spoke about asking anything about him, Lance had formed a string of questions that didn't leave his mouth, it seemed like Jen didn't have and didn't want to explain more about Greiver's state, and somehow it felt like he would be taking care of a little kid. Still, Lance couldn't think what problems could Greiver cause to him. "I'll call you." He said after all the time he remained in silence while Jen talked. "Um... Does he have some kind of schedule or something? Pills to take at any hour?" Lance asked taking his eyes back to Greiver for a moment. "He told me you cook for him." Lance looked at Jen. "I can cook, if I still remember how." He laughed a little. "I'll ask Sanders to bring me what I need, so you won't have to expend your money, on me at least, but I will cook for both." Lance used to help his mother at the kitchen rather often and he had memorized his favourites recipes, yet so far he'd never had the chance to try his skill.

Even when he tried not to ask much, Lance couldn't stop asking a few more questions. "What if he spends like this all day? Should I... Bring him back somehow? Does he go out alone?" Waking up to find out Greiver was gone did sound like a problem.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

"Alright." She replied agreeably. "And you don't need to worry about that; he's not on any medication and he wouldn't take it if he was. He does get awful headaches though, so there are medicines for him in the upstairs bathroom - mostly painkillers and sleeping pills, but he doesn't like to take them so I wouldn't worry about it." Greiver had an aversion to medicine of any kind after everything, and she was loathe to push him on it. "Its not your dedicated duty or anything, but if you could make sure he eats as often as possible that would help. You're welcome to use the kitchen to its fullest, and I would be grateful for your help." She flushed a little, but brushed it off with a shrug. "Its not actually part of my duties to come over and cook for him all the time and sometimes its tough to get over here and cook for him." It wasn't a failing of hers, but she still felt bad about not always being able to help with Greiver.

"You don't need to worry about supplies though - as part of this household you'll have a small budget same as Greiver." It wouldn't be much use in housing two homeless people and then not providing them a stipend to live on.

"You don't need to worry about Greiver too much." She assured him. "When he loses himself like this he's pretty much there until he pulls himself out again. He's been getting better and better about coming out, but it is taxing for him sometimes." Jen ran a hand through Greiver's hair, feeling the raised bumps of his scars under her fingers as she did so. "Usually as long as he's got art supplies in his hand he'll not go anywhere, but if not then he can wander off." She shifted, and reached down to show off the tracker on Greiver's ankle. "Its got a panic button if he gets into trouble, and we can find him if needs be. Usually though, he might wander a few blocks or get up on the roof or in a tree, but he's harmless. If he ever does wander off you can always call me, I have access to his GPS data, and if he pushes the panic button then it sends an alert to my phone. It doesn't happen very often though - as you may have seen by his bedroom wall, he's more likely to paint or draw on whatever surface is available before he goes wandering. He's also not in great shape right now anyway, so he can't go far. The first time he did it here, I found him crouched in front of a bush in the back garden, like it had something fantastic under it." She laughed softly.

"For the most part though, despite being in another place in his head he has a sort-of awareness of the world around him. He won't go walking off of ledges, and to a degree you can lead him somewhere if you need to." It was unusual, but Greiver was truly harmless. "Typically though, I'd not recommend that Greiver go outside alone at the moment. If he does spend more than 12 hours in this state then I'd see about trying to get him to eat and drink, but long periods like that don't really happen any more, or if they do its a partial state - he keeps saying he sees butterflies, but he's still 'here', if he understand what I mean. Greiver experiences things that we don't, his mind creates places for him to go away from the real world. Sometimes he gets headaches if he tries to resist it for too long though, so if you see him struggling then encourage him to rest. He'll go into a dozing state like this." She petted Greiver's head again. Despite being 'away', Greiver also looked a bit sleepy. At this point if he didn't have a pad and pen he was more likely to doze off more than wander off.

"I'm always here if you have questions though." Jen assured him. "Greiver is my top priority, so if you're worried about anything then call me. While you're here, you're in my care too in a way."

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance did stop for a moment thinking about the pills stashed at the bathroom, and he had to fight back the idea of taking the painkillers for him, Jen would knew, if she ever checked and the pills weren't there, that it was him and not Greiver the one who to took them. It wasn't the time to think about that, he still had his own stash and it would last, unless his cough and fever decided to come back, and it would be back sooner than later. When he was sick and out of medicine, Lance still had a way to feel good but he would try and go out to get high, he couldn't risk Jen finding him.

He finally got rid of everything else and focused once more in Jen's indications. He would make sure to check that Greiver was eating properly. He needed to eat more than four times during the day anyway. Lance needed to get used to eat a full meal, so far he couldn't because his body simply couldn't take it, his stomach couldn't take much food without hurting later, so he had started to increase the amount of food he could eat at each meal some time ago, but it was still in process.

"You don't have to worry about his food then, I'll take care of that." He said smiling a bit. If he didn't have to ask Sanders for money or supplies it was better, but now he needed to make some excuse to make her come to visit him, Greiver was lucky with Jen, she seemed to have a lot of free time for him, or at least she was able to make some time.

He didn't quite understand Greiver's mind troubles, and he would leave him be unless something bad might happen to him, Lance wasn't responsible for him, but he wouldn't let Greiver hurt himself. "Thank you" Lance said to her, he was honestly thankful, and it looked like Jen could accept him sooner than he first thought.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Like Lance, Greiver was recovering from a long period of not getting appropriate amounts of food, and so was required to eat regularly but in small amounts. Greiver loved eating but tended to lose track of time - he wasn't very good at keeping on top of it but it was made even more difficult by his periods of psychosis. The closest that psychologists had been able to compare it to was akin to a paracosm - an imaginary world in his mind that was so detailed he couldn't tell it apart from reality. It crept into his awareness in increments - like seeing and hearing things that weren't there, and could be fully immersive like it was right now or just partially - where he could still interact with the true 'reality' and was aware of it, or like now when he had limited awareness of what everyone else understood as reality.

"Thank you." Jen smiled at him gratefully. The government was trying to right its wrongs but would always be an inherently flawed institution; in point of fact Greiver had been living in this house for some time now but still hadn't been provided with a proper carer - the task still fell to Jen even though it was no longer something she was supposed to be doing, they hadn't hired a replacement for him. Jen had been hired to do everything Greiver might need her to, but her role was being slowly reduced and reassigned to the ongoing court case rather than his direct care.

"Well, I'll leave it at that for now." She said with a slight sigh. "I didn't want to drop everything on you the day you got in but there is some paperwork that you'll need to go through, so I'll swing round either tomorrow or the day after. You have enough food here till then, and its important that you adjust to living in a house and what that means." Taking the potential bite out of her words, Jen smiled at him compassionately. "I'll be back though, and I'll get the budget sorted out to give you a stipend so you can buy some food and supplies for yourself. If you do need anything specific you can write a list and I'll see if I can provide it for you - some things we can get through expenses like medicine if you're ill, basic supplies for getting you on your feet. If you feel you would like some educational materials then we can provide that too - Greiver has a few things but not much since he's not been interested in giving schooling another go."

As she was speaking Jen was readying herself to leave. She didn't seem to mind that Greiver hadn't come out of his daze, just ruffled the young man's hair and stood, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. "I can see myself out." She assured him. "I'll see you in the next few days. Don't forget: my number is by the phone if you need me."

 

[Liam Dale]

"Alright." Lance replied with a smile, feeling a tad relieved, knowing that Jen was going to help him out with those papers. Sanders had told him he would probably need to fill up a pile of documents and stuff. Stuff wasn't the word she used, but Lance didn't pay much attention to her at that moment. He frowned slightly at Jen for a brief moment, she got nicer towards him during their conversation, but it was clear she hadn't changed her mind about him in the slightest. "Thank you. Um... Sanders usually gives me the medicine I need... But I'll let you know if I can't talk to her." He nodded at Jen and followed with his eyes as she left, sighing a little.

After a moment, he relaxed and leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, hearing Greiver's intermittent humming, it was a bit creepy, seeing the guy drawing like that, eyes open and fixed on nothing, it made Lance shiver a little. He got up then, and walked over the kitchen, he was starving and opened the fridge to see what was on each box, deciding to take the one containing mac and cheese and put it into the microwave while he took a plate and a fork. He drew out the hot food, took a glass of water and sad down. Lance took his time to eat, not only because of his condition, but also because he couldn't remember the last time he ate mac and cheese, and it felt almost like a little pleasure. Once he finished the small amount he'd served onto his place, Lance put the rest back into the fridge and washed the things he used, refilling the glass almost to the top before leaving the kitchen.


Lance decided to go up to his room, checking on Greiver for a moment and seeing no sign of change, he gave a small shrug and made his way up stairs. Once at his room he kicked his shoes off, placed the glass atop of his night stand and lay down on the bed, searching into his pants pocket and drew out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit the cigarette he had to put off that morning before getting into Sanders' car and took a long, deep drag, letting the smoke out slowly through his nose. He knew he'd get used to his new life in matter of days, at least to its commodities, responsibilities were going to be a load, but Lance needed to push himself out of his shitty life now that he was given the chance, it wasn't something you could simply throw away.
The smoke from his cigarette soon dried and closed his throat, triggering a nasty coughing fit. He was way used by now, but it always ended up with him practically curled up into a ball, and a searing pain on his throat. It was harder every time, the medicine was good enough to spread the time between each episode, but they became longer than just a few months ago, what Sanders was able to give him wasn't enough to cure Lance, only to ease on the symptoms. When Lance finally managed to stop the coughing he sat up on the bed, rubbing his teary eyes and breathing deeply, trying to fill up his lungs with air once more. "Shit..." Lance sighed, reaching over the glass to take a few sips.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

It was a few hours later when Greiver reappeared from his dazed state. Sleepy but hungry, he went to the kitchen on instincts and made himself a hot chocolate. If it was possible for him to put on weight just by drinking hot chocolate he'd probably be all better by now, but alas. Jen had managed to get him some nutritional chocolate shakes though, which he could lightly heat up without impacting the effect it had. They didn't taste as good but they were packed full of the stuff he needed, and sometimes he even remembered to drink them instead of the regular hot chocolate options. His first mug of hot chocolate was regular, but his second was the nutritional stuff. He was too tired to eat properly even though food was tasty, so the shake was a good substitute.

In the meantime he returned to his spot in the lounge and cleared up some of the mess he'd made with his drawing; discarded pencils and pieces of paper. Given his situation, it may be surprising that Greiver was actually a little bit of a neat freak. Nothing excessive, but he tidied up after himself and kept the place in as good condition as he was able. He couldn't do too much though, not yet, but he often wore himself out tidying. Given how little muscle mass was on his body, attempting to vacuum was very strenuous for him, and he'd only managed to do it a few times with minimal success. He had exercises he did to build up his strength though, but he still had a long way to go.

Given how little import time had for him, he didn't bother looking at a clock at all so he had no idea how long ago Jen had left or he had been out of it. It didn't matter what time it was anyway since he wasn't able to keep a regular sleep cycle anyway. He hummed as he puttered around the kitchen and lounge, sleepily debating whether he should attempt the stairs and sleep in his own bed or just stay down here. It wasn't an unusual problem - until he regained his strength, even going up the stairs could be more than he was able to manage sometimes. There was a blanket behind the couch for him to use so he snuggled up on the couch for a few hours rest.

 

[Liam Dale]

After Lance finished his smoke he laid down, thinking that he needed to get an ashtray now that he wasn't on the streets anymore as he stared a the stub floating in the water for a moment. He made himself comfortable, pulling the blankets over him and readied himself to sleep, since he had nothing else to do. It was going to be harder than Lance thought, adjusting his life and making a proper routine to live in a house. He was used to wake up, and wander off around the city, in search of food, drugs or some old desperate man ready to pay him for a blowjob. Lance could spent days out after a good deal until he ran out of whatever he had gotten, heroin, coke, meth, anything that was good enough to make him loose track of time and stop caring about all the shit around him. He finally fell asleep for some hours, waking up when the sun was setting and thought he could take a shower, a long and hot shower before eating something and see what else he could do.

It took him a short while to find where the towels were and once he found them, Lance made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and undressed, taking a quick glance of his body on the mirror and releasing a long, heavy sigh. He asked himself if he could ever swim again, the Olympics Games where completely out of sight, that was a lost chance, but Lance hoped he could go back to train once more someday, maybe after getting a job, he could get enough money to afford a sports club, and go back to do what he loved the most. He shook his head softly and started the water before stepping into the shower and smiled at the touch of the warm water on his skin. He used to take quick showers at Sanders' clinic, but now he could take all the time he wanted. When he deemed he was cleaned and pleased enough with his shower, and because he had finished the hot water, Lance decided it was time to step out. He stopped the water and wrapped himself with a large towel before making his way to his room to dry off and get into some clothes once more.

Lance finally went down stairs, to find Greiver was still at the couch and considering that he didn't see him taking anything else than hot chocolate, decided it might be time to wake him up so he could eat something. He went to the kitchen and made everything ready, placing plates, cutlery and glasses before going back to the couch. "Greiver?" He whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving him slowly. "Wake up... Let's have dinner, yes?"

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Greiver's sleep was light and it didn't take much to pull him out of it. It was fortunate really, since when he tried for a deeper sleep he tended to wake with terrible nightmares, not that he remembered them. As it was though, instead of getting proper amounts of sleep he took shorter naps at regular intervals, as much because his stamina was still low and he couldn't keep up the high energy output of his exuberance when he was awake. It was usually only when he was mentally away did his body slow down.

Mumbling sleepily as he was awoken, Greiver shifted a bit so he could see who had woken him, greeting Lance with a smile once he recognised him. "Hmm, okay." He agreed, sounding tired still. He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand and then stretching out till his feet stuck over one end of the couch and his arms the other. Once he was sufficiently stretched he eased his legs over the side and sat up, yawning again. Rubbing at his eyes, he got to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen to see what was in there. "D'you want anything in particular?" He asked as he looked in the freezer, perking up a bit as he woke up more fully. "There's lots of choices, Jen is always getting me new things to try!" It wasn't all frozen meals either, there were some tins of soup and other things that could be cooked in the microwave as well as on the stove. "Like hot dogs, or noodles! She even put little tubs of meat in the freezer so I could use it in whatever I wanted, like to make a sandwich, a salad or whatever else we might want!" The selection available wasn't that extensive, but it was a huge list for Greiver, who was used to being provided a set meal without any options.

There were plenty of choices though, and there were still many things he had yet to try. There was little chance that he'd dislike it either, since Jen didn't stock the cupboards with things he didn't like, though so far there were only a few things he hadn't enjoyed. Having so many options to choose from was a pleasure all in itself to him though. "What sort of things do you like? My favorite food is hot chocolate. Would you like some?" Because he was in the kitchen, of course he'd start making hot chocolate.

 

[Liam Dale]

Lance nodded at him and left to the kitchen, sitting down as he waited for Greiver, following him with his eyes from the couch to the fridge. Greiver definitely had his own time for everything, and even when it made Lance feel a little anxious, he really didn't have a reason to rush things up, he had nothing to do, nowhere to go, he just needed to get used to someone else's presence and rhythm. "I'll let you choose" He replied with a smile. There was a lot of food, at least it seemed to Lance, the fridge and every counter were stuffed with frozen food, noodles, rice, and cans of about everything that could be canned and eaten. For him, it seemed like they had food enough for months.

Greiver's question was rather depressing and put Lance to think about all the time he lived on the streets. "I don't know..." Lance smiled briefly, he couldn't recall which food he liked or disliked, finding out once again would be something interesting to do, if there was some kind of bright sight about it. It was sad though, he was so used to eat whatever he could get, that it was like his taste sense had been suppressed. Only lately, after he met Sanders, Lance began to eat better, but still accepting whatever she could bring him.

Being accompanied would be good for Lance, he knew it the moment Greiver offered him hot chocolate. He laughed, he should have guessed Greiver loved hot chocolate so much. Lance nodded at him. "OK." He accepted the chocolate, watching Greiver as he was already making some. It was weird how fast his mood changed with a simple question. Lance released a short sigh, asking himself if he could get to be as free of worries as Greiver seemed to be. It would be nice, to wake up one day and know that his life was back on track once again, get rid of all uncertainty and for once know what was going to happen next.

 

[Greiver Dhark]

Smiling in return, Greiver picked something out for them. He wasn't really bothered about what since it was all tasty and he knew how to cook it, since it was all labelled up for him. Lance was correct about Greiver having his own speed though - he was either rushing about like an exuberant child or padding around languidly. When he wasn't being excitable Greiver was pretty laid back - beneath those more prominent quirks his personality was actually pretty strong, but with his psychosis and the quirks that came of it, he was rarely seen in those times when he was more himself. Times like this when he was more confident and tired it was easier to see that despite whatever was wrong with him there was a calmer side to him. His excitement at having a new housemate had set him pretty hyper the day before though.

"That's okay." He assured with a comforting look. "I'm still learning what I like as well." He may have picked his favorite so far but he was always trying new things because he didn't know what he did or didn't like. Until then Greiver would stuff him full of hot chocolate because it was his favorite, and even if it didn't turn out to be Lance's favorite the other man at least seemed to like it well enough. Soon enough there were steaming mugs in front of both of them and a random meal selection turning round and round in the microwave. In the meantime Greiver stretched and yawned again, reaching his hands high into the air and slumping forward with a heavy sigh.

"We'll find out what food you like best." Greiver promised after a moment. "So far the food I like best is chicken, usually in a salad. I don't mind spicy food but I'm a bit picky about it, and I'm not a fan of greasy food though I don't mind having it now and then. I'm not really allowed it at the moment though, since I'm supposed to be putting on weight healthily." He examined his too-thin wrists idly. "I'm sure you'll get put on a diet plan too - if you're not already." All the food premade was healthy enough, so it'd probably be alright for Lance. "If nothing else you'll have some recommendations to make sure you're healthy." He slurped his hot chocolate.