Ok folks here's the run down:
(Any thing in parenthesis is Mort's normal conscious or thoughts)
// Anything between these nifty slashes is Shooter's two cents in Mort's head//
Got it? Spiffy.
*****************
New Brunswick Psychiatric Hospital. 4:26 p.m
Shifting in his chair, Dr. Reid made an awkward attempt at a foreward gesture but leaned in again for the second time this session, his voice impatiently barking his new patient's name. "Morton!"
The thirty something author perked up, giving the doctor a 100-watt smile decked out in braces. Morton Rainey wore a ghastly brown sweater vest over a vertical stripped faded shirt, equally as horrid corduroy black slacks and some scuffed doc martins.
Surveying all this, the doctor scribbled something down on his yellow legal pad about a 'Mr. Rainey looking like your normal run of the mill crazy'. But, hell Mort is a writer after all. Scratching out his previous comment he simply wrote 'Weird bastard' and smiled largely at his diagnoses.
Noticing Morton's gaze drifting again, Dr. Reid loudly slammed his pad on the desk and clasped his large hands together. "Mr. Rainey, may I remind you that you are here of your own will and being so I would expect you to pay some kind of attention during this evaluation."
"I apologize." Mort replied, running his tongue over his front teeth. "I was just admiring the view, Dr.Reid." His shifty eyes looked right past Dr. Reid's shoulder once again.
"I don't have a window Mr.Ra-"He did a double take behind him and spotted the picture of his family located right in Morton's plane of view. It depicted his wife, his two teenage daughters, and his three older sons, all of them playing out in the snow. Their trademark family cheeks rosy from the cold, they all beheld great big smiles.
"Pictures. Are just like windows." This comment catching his attention, the head of the Reid family swiveled his chair around to face Morton again who continued. "They can tell just as many stories, hold just as much emotion and activity."
"Picture's, like that one, can't move. It's a still life, captured in one frame. Morton, did you see my family moving in that picture?" Dr. Reid reached over to his patient's evaluation form to take a note of Mort's comment, though Mr. Rainey slapped his hand on it first.
"No need to write that down Chris. I didn't see them move. I just.. felt it. I guess" He leaned back. "I'm an author, it's an occupational hazard to over describe things." Mort cast his gaze down at his hands as he waited for the doctor's analysis of his play on words.
"I see. Call me Dr. Reid. I prefer my Christian name when in personal situations, not consultations such as this. Understand?" The doctor exhaled deeply and shifted in his chair.
Mort nodded and ran a hand through his tame brown-blonde streaked hair.
"Anyway, Mort, I read over your form and you said your wife divorced you and left with her boyfriend, putting you under a lot of grief. Causing a lapse into what you claim is a manic episode. It didn't take us long to find out that they didn't skip town to bask in the sun of some beach in Mexico together, contrary to your belief, they are in fact missing and have been for several months. Presumed dead, Morton. Now how does that realization make you feel?"
".....I..never." Mort muttered, an unsettling cloud of confusion and doubt filling his head.
// Don't let them see, boy. Don't let that quack see your weakness.//
John Shooter's southern drawl spoke louder then any other entity in Morton's mind. He suddenly made a small jerk in his chair and sat up straight, trying to hold together. For some inexplicable reason, Mort was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
(Amy and Ted dead? There's a crazed idea.)
// Don't sound so shocked. Like you would have honestly given a rat's ass if Amy and that jackass Ted was belly up in a ditch right now.//
( Enough! Not now, Shooter. Christ, not now.)
"I'm sorry, really." Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mort was stumbling over syllables but managed to choke out. "I can't do this now."
Shakily standing and snatching his coat, Mort gave Dr. Reid a half assed smile.
"Mr. Rainey I want to meet with you again. There is something we need to discuss. Expect a call soon. Good-"Before he could finish his farewell, Mort jetted out the door and escaped into the silence of the hallways.
Nothing but Mort's chair was still twirling in his absence.
There was a single knock at the side door to Dr.Reid's office, and then it opened widely. The voice of Dr. Reid's youngest daughter of twenty-three and resident nurse, chimed in with the rapid firing of names.
"Penelope." Dr. Reid said simply, walking over to her and placing his large hands under her jaw to quiet her. He took a moment to admire his daughter's face, round, the color of milk, and her blue eyes a complete contrast to the rest of her features.
She wasn't the prettiest girl in the whole world as he had often told her as a child, but rather a lively soul that made her looks take a backseat to her overpowering spirit.
"Penny." He said more commanding this time and dropped his hands to his side.
"What? I thought you would be happy to see me somewhere else besides us passing in the wards?" She replied, bounding over to the twirling chair and stopping it abruptly.
This action snapped Dr. Reid from any more lingering thoughts of Mr. Rainey.
"I was in a session. Have you any idea how unprofessional that would have made me look if my daughter and favorite candy-striper just barged in here?" Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to give her that intimidating 'dad stare down' he always gave her when trying to reprimand her.
"Candy-striper?!" Her mouth formed a complete O in disbelief at his choice of words. Tossing a few brunette curls over her shoulder, she sauntered over to him and laughed.
"I prefer pharmaceutical engineer, and no way in hell does the death stare work anymore."
Her angelic laughing filled the silence of the room, yet her father felt a pang of hurt in his heart, still nostalgic from the days when he was in charge of his daughter.
Now he felt more like a decorative lamp in her life then the main fixture.
"Hey, how did this new evaluation go?" Picking up Mort's form, Penny sat down behind the large desk and scanned over it without asking any sort of permission. Being direct kin to the head of the psychiatric board had its perks when it came to crossing the professional bounds."So pops, you think he's crazy enough to be put in my ward?"
*******************
This is just a brief intro to Mort's current situation only months after the "Shooter Incident", including some other key characters and motives and such.
Can someone tell me where Tashmore Lake is ?? Vermont or Maine?? ^.^ Anyhoodles, This is gunna be fun! Expect more creepier Mort soon and more wacky hijinks from Shooter!
And puh-lease. Review for garsh sakes!
(Any thing in parenthesis is Mort's normal conscious or thoughts)
// Anything between these nifty slashes is Shooter's two cents in Mort's head//
Got it? Spiffy.
*****************
New Brunswick Psychiatric Hospital. 4:26 p.m
Shifting in his chair, Dr. Reid made an awkward attempt at a foreward gesture but leaned in again for the second time this session, his voice impatiently barking his new patient's name. "Morton!"
The thirty something author perked up, giving the doctor a 100-watt smile decked out in braces. Morton Rainey wore a ghastly brown sweater vest over a vertical stripped faded shirt, equally as horrid corduroy black slacks and some scuffed doc martins.
Surveying all this, the doctor scribbled something down on his yellow legal pad about a 'Mr. Rainey looking like your normal run of the mill crazy'. But, hell Mort is a writer after all. Scratching out his previous comment he simply wrote 'Weird bastard' and smiled largely at his diagnoses.
Noticing Morton's gaze drifting again, Dr. Reid loudly slammed his pad on the desk and clasped his large hands together. "Mr. Rainey, may I remind you that you are here of your own will and being so I would expect you to pay some kind of attention during this evaluation."
"I apologize." Mort replied, running his tongue over his front teeth. "I was just admiring the view, Dr.Reid." His shifty eyes looked right past Dr. Reid's shoulder once again.
"I don't have a window Mr.Ra-"He did a double take behind him and spotted the picture of his family located right in Morton's plane of view. It depicted his wife, his two teenage daughters, and his three older sons, all of them playing out in the snow. Their trademark family cheeks rosy from the cold, they all beheld great big smiles.
"Pictures. Are just like windows." This comment catching his attention, the head of the Reid family swiveled his chair around to face Morton again who continued. "They can tell just as many stories, hold just as much emotion and activity."
"Picture's, like that one, can't move. It's a still life, captured in one frame. Morton, did you see my family moving in that picture?" Dr. Reid reached over to his patient's evaluation form to take a note of Mort's comment, though Mr. Rainey slapped his hand on it first.
"No need to write that down Chris. I didn't see them move. I just.. felt it. I guess" He leaned back. "I'm an author, it's an occupational hazard to over describe things." Mort cast his gaze down at his hands as he waited for the doctor's analysis of his play on words.
"I see. Call me Dr. Reid. I prefer my Christian name when in personal situations, not consultations such as this. Understand?" The doctor exhaled deeply and shifted in his chair.
Mort nodded and ran a hand through his tame brown-blonde streaked hair.
"Anyway, Mort, I read over your form and you said your wife divorced you and left with her boyfriend, putting you under a lot of grief. Causing a lapse into what you claim is a manic episode. It didn't take us long to find out that they didn't skip town to bask in the sun of some beach in Mexico together, contrary to your belief, they are in fact missing and have been for several months. Presumed dead, Morton. Now how does that realization make you feel?"
".....I..never." Mort muttered, an unsettling cloud of confusion and doubt filling his head.
// Don't let them see, boy. Don't let that quack see your weakness.//
John Shooter's southern drawl spoke louder then any other entity in Morton's mind. He suddenly made a small jerk in his chair and sat up straight, trying to hold together. For some inexplicable reason, Mort was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
(Amy and Ted dead? There's a crazed idea.)
// Don't sound so shocked. Like you would have honestly given a rat's ass if Amy and that jackass Ted was belly up in a ditch right now.//
( Enough! Not now, Shooter. Christ, not now.)
"I'm sorry, really." Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mort was stumbling over syllables but managed to choke out. "I can't do this now."
Shakily standing and snatching his coat, Mort gave Dr. Reid a half assed smile.
"Mr. Rainey I want to meet with you again. There is something we need to discuss. Expect a call soon. Good-"Before he could finish his farewell, Mort jetted out the door and escaped into the silence of the hallways.
Nothing but Mort's chair was still twirling in his absence.
There was a single knock at the side door to Dr.Reid's office, and then it opened widely. The voice of Dr. Reid's youngest daughter of twenty-three and resident nurse, chimed in with the rapid firing of names.
"Penelope." Dr. Reid said simply, walking over to her and placing his large hands under her jaw to quiet her. He took a moment to admire his daughter's face, round, the color of milk, and her blue eyes a complete contrast to the rest of her features.
She wasn't the prettiest girl in the whole world as he had often told her as a child, but rather a lively soul that made her looks take a backseat to her overpowering spirit.
"Penny." He said more commanding this time and dropped his hands to his side.
"What? I thought you would be happy to see me somewhere else besides us passing in the wards?" She replied, bounding over to the twirling chair and stopping it abruptly.
This action snapped Dr. Reid from any more lingering thoughts of Mr. Rainey.
"I was in a session. Have you any idea how unprofessional that would have made me look if my daughter and favorite candy-striper just barged in here?" Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to give her that intimidating 'dad stare down' he always gave her when trying to reprimand her.
"Candy-striper?!" Her mouth formed a complete O in disbelief at his choice of words. Tossing a few brunette curls over her shoulder, she sauntered over to him and laughed.
"I prefer pharmaceutical engineer, and no way in hell does the death stare work anymore."
Her angelic laughing filled the silence of the room, yet her father felt a pang of hurt in his heart, still nostalgic from the days when he was in charge of his daughter.
Now he felt more like a decorative lamp in her life then the main fixture.
"Hey, how did this new evaluation go?" Picking up Mort's form, Penny sat down behind the large desk and scanned over it without asking any sort of permission. Being direct kin to the head of the psychiatric board had its perks when it came to crossing the professional bounds."So pops, you think he's crazy enough to be put in my ward?"
*******************
This is just a brief intro to Mort's current situation only months after the "Shooter Incident", including some other key characters and motives and such.
Can someone tell me where Tashmore Lake is ?? Vermont or Maine?? ^.^ Anyhoodles, This is gunna be fun! Expect more creepier Mort soon and more wacky hijinks from Shooter!
And puh-lease. Review for garsh sakes!