[OPEN] three strikes you're out.

[devon splyce parker]

Devan sobbed, throwing himself at the bars, tears smudging his cheeks as he threw himself at them again and again until someone grabbed at his wrist. "Stop, you're just going to hurt yourself."

He hissed, yanking back his arm, wings unfurled, eyes bloodshot but scared. He grabbed desperately at the bars, sobbing even more. Somebody was talking about him having a good, fifteen or twenty children dead because of him.

He had never been told it was wrong, Dylan had beaten him for it occasionally, made fun of him. They hadn't been able to get him to understand.

"He needs mental help, and he needs a trip to the mental hospital. Call the coroner and maybe somebody he has relation with."

Devon tried shaking the bars again but of course they wouldn't budge.
He whimpered, sliding down, and curled up on the cool floor, ratty wings shielding his sobbing body.

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon showed up at the prison looking about as attractive as he could covered in blood. If anything, he looked like the crazy one. He had on his lab coat, spots on his black jeans darker than the rest because of the blood.

"Deacon Rudman." He held his ID out to the lady at the desk. "I got a call to evaluate a patient." He was lead to a cell and shook his head. "No, I have to have him in a room. Like.. four walls..? Chairs? .... Light?" He watched one of the guards come and handcuff him, dragging him to a room down he hall. Deacon walked in behind him, setting his clipboard on the table. He sat on the end.

"What's your name? Do you know your date of birth? Do you have anyone related to you that can give me a second opinion on you?" He tapped his fingers on the board, looking over at the boy.

[devon splyce parker]

Devon screeched as he was dragged out, fighting their every move. He thrashed in the cuffs angrily as he was sat down in a chair, and stumbled, bolting for the corner of the room, shoulder hitting the wall as he slid down, tugging angrily at his wrists.

"Devon...I dunno.. I-...." He bared sharp teeth, unsure completely what he meant, scared and confused. "I didn't do nothin'.." He snarled, shrinking back further in the corner. "I just want Zander.." He jerked at his wrists again.

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon could tell he was scared, so he got down on the floor, folding his legs in front of him. He put his clip board in his lap, writing 'Devon' at the top.

"Okay. You can have Zander when you answer all of my silly questions. I know, it's a pain in the butt. But the faster we get done, the faster he can get here, okay?" He smiled over at him, reaching up to fix one of his snakebites.

"Devon's your first name. What's your middle and last names?" He asked slowly, watching him carefully.

[devon splyce parker]

"Uh.." Devon scratched at his scarred arm in a slow up and down manner, uneasy, and gazed down as it drew blood. He eased up at the sight, baby blue eyes studying the scarlet mess on his own skin.

"Devon Splyce Parker..." He mumbled, drawing his knees up, a hand playing with one of his leathery wings.

He returned to running his nails over his arm quietly, rocking some.

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon nodded, writing his name at the top of his page. "Okay, Devon. Do you know your date of birth? The month, the day, and the year?" He leaned against the desk. "It's okay if you don't. I don't remember mine. I just remember I was born on Halloween." He hoped the kid would ease up.

"Do you hurt yourself a lot? Is there a reason?" He looked at him with gentle green eyes, chewing on one of his snakebites. Something about the boy was off. Whether it be he was deprived of an education or he was abused, he couldn't tell. But he seemed different, and not in a good way.

[devon splyce parker]

"I dunno..." He mumbled brokenly, shifting his weight. Bloodshot eyes peered up at him warily, then back down at his bleeding arm. He nodded at the next question, then shrugged. "Cos I wanna.." He mumbled, tracing a finger gently over the faint blood on his arm. "'Feels better..." He murmured, eyes easing up as he stared at what he was doing. "And cos Dylan... Nobody likes me, everybody is 'fraid..."

[deacon reid rudman]

"Who's Dylan? And nobody is afraid of you, okay? If you think you're scary, try being death itself. That's enough to scare anyone. My daughter is scared of me sometimes." Bandit had suffered horribly from nightmares the first week she was there. But she gradually got used to his cold touch and bright eyes. "She still has nightmares sometimes." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, carefully handing him a picture. "Isn't she cute?"

[devon splyce parker]

"My brother..." He looked up hesitantly as he spoke, smiled at the picture. And yet he had turned right around and eaten kids her age, just like at the hospital, how awed he was by all those kids.

Briefly he stopped tracing his fingers through the blood on his arm, had peeled scabs away from a recently cut word and it was now bleeding. After a moment, the look faded back to nothing but apathy as he watched him.

[deacon reid rudman]

"Does your brother force you to cut or does he just give you the urge to do it?" He watched him, but didn't bother give him a napkin. He had done the same thing himself many times.

"Does your mom or dad have a history of mental illness?" He asked, looking around at the walls before looking back at him.