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Nym Rocis

"Why even try anymore. It's not like we're ever gonna find a way out."

0 · 188 views · located in Somewhere

a character in “Hotel California”, as played by KingJuggalo

Description

>Nym Rocis<
...losing the feeling of feeling unique...


Name: Nym Rocis

Age: 19

Sex: Female

Appearance: Nym is a pale lass who stands at just about 5 foot 4 inches. Se's not super skinny, but she's not chubby either nor is she muscular. Lean, very lean. Her legs are medium length, the same as her arms. Her fingers are long and skinny, piano fingers, that have little fat/skin on them, almost resembling that of a skeletons. Her fingernails are always quite short do to his habit of biting them. Her torso is small, but fitting for her petite size that looks shorter as she slumps her shoulders downward instead of walking straight up. She has dark brown, short, pixie-cut hair that makes her look more like a guy than a girl, until you notice her very smooth feminine face, her dark thick eye lashes around her big dark brown eyes and her voice that she tries oh so hard to sound deeper. When not wearing the hood of her grey jacket, her hair would be styled in one of two ways. Usually the no-effot-put-in way that's just combed down with the split being over to the left, behind her temple and flipping over to her right. The second would be in a spiky, Faux style. She is always seen wearing a grey hoodie (that goes over a white whife-beater), along with greyed blue-jeans that are worn at the end and have a rip in the left knee.

Personality: Nym is, in a since, a Drag King. She acts and dresses like a guy, preferring not to be called a girl. Some would say she's insane for this fact, some would say she's simply just facing an identity crisis, and that may be true. She thinks everyone is the same and no one is different. No matter how much she feels she may be different, she sticks to the mindset that no one is different, everyone's the same. It'd take someone needing to get really close to her for her to actually start feeling that everyone is different and their own person. But that's pretty hard with her I-don't-care attitude about life or people not to mention her thinking she ain't worth shit. There's also that thing she does when she talks to herself. She doesn't mean to do it, she just needs to let stuff out sometimes even if she's cagey when there's others around.

Demon: Nym became addicted to XTC, or better known Ecstasy (MDMA), a short time after school started and the bullying got worse. At first, the drug made her feel good. She used it all the time. The longer it went on, the more she took at a time until she was taking up to three tablets at once. When she couldn't sleep and was craving the drug, she knew she had to stop. So she did. She dropped it cold turkey. Doing so left her with sleep problems (insomnia), craving (XTC), and depression plus whatever physical damage the drug did.

Brief History: Nym was blessed with being the only child to a well off family. Her parents were more than happy they had a girl to spoil. It didn't really turn out that way though. From the start, they wanted her to be girly. When she wanted to wear a suite for church like daddy, they'd stuff her in a little pink flowery dress. On holidays, when Nym would ask for a toy car or a bicycle or a video game, she'd get a Barbie that came with a pink plastic car and a pink plastic bike, for the Barbie! School wasn't any better. The kids would make fun of her and tease her for that thing that was asked the first day of school. The first day of school, the little students were asked what they wanted to be when they grew up. Some said the usual fireman, astronaut, ballerina. But Nym said the one thing that shocked not only the children but the teachers as well. She said she wanted to be a boy. As she got older and older, the worst the teasing got. Then in high school the teasing turned into full out bullying. She was beat up by not only girls but guys too before they started calling her a name that pushed her over the edge: Nympho. It was around that time that Nym got into XTC. She had detached herself from her parents, going out everyday to hell knows where plus skipping school. She met a guy in the park that became a "friend". He gave her XTC and she was hooked as all the bad feelings went away. Her parents, of course, found out when a "friend" from school said she saw "Nym in the park taking XTC from some hobo!" Her parents started yelling at her the moment she returned home. She tried calming them down before her father hit her. She left with the intention to go back to the park and take some more XTC and break her three month record. She didn't know what happened when she woke up in the place she is now.

Duration: Nym has been here for about two years. She just started awaking the past few months but goes back into her normal mindset when things get too hot to handle.



Writing Sample:
[Prompt: chose a scene from the characters life, and write it. It can be anything from a first memory to an enjoyable time, to a not so fun time, to the moment they hit the breaking point. Make it accurate to the history of the character, and make sure to develop the character's personality through the sample. Show us how the character is who he is in action. Length does not matter.]

"Hey, look guys! It's Nympho!" "Yeah, it is Nympho! Hey, Nympho! Want some?"

One of the Jenifer's wiggles her butt at Nym as she walks by. All Nym does is narrow her eyes ahead as she walks down the hallway of the school. The blue lockers reflecting the florescent lights above. The few people stop and turn to look at Nym as she walks, and she tries her best to avoid them all. Reaching up, her long fingers tug the hood of her hoodie over her head and her step becomes slightly faster. She knows what's coming. Wherever the Jenifer's are, the Jocks are sure to follow. A few more steps. Just a few more steps. Nym thinks as she walks to the back door of the school. None of the students that she has to worry about comes this way, only the low-lives, potheads, and nobodies like her. "Hey, Nyymmmmmmphoooo!" She hears the voice of one of the jocks some way behind her. She doesn't turn to look, she just keeps moving. "...Five more steps..." Nym whispers to herself, taking up the old habit again. "Nympho, stop! Halt! Yield!" Another jock says, getting closer with every word. "...Three...two...ONE!"

Nym's out the door and down the steps, she spots Katey and hides behind one of the dumpsters the girl is next to. Her breathings heavy and her heart is pounding. It takes her a minute, but she finally looks up to see Katey looking down at her with a questioning look, her dirty blonde hair falling in her face and her light blue eyes staring Nym right on. Nym can feel her face getting warm under the stare and watches as Katey's mouth parts slightly as she's about to speak, but stops and looks up to where Nym came from as avoice erupts with anger from the direction. "NYMMMMMMPHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Get your sqrawny ass outa' hiding NOOOOOW!"

Katey looks back down at Nym and Nym puts her hands up into a begging gesture as he mouths 'please, please, please'. Katey looks back up and Nym's heart sinks as she say's "Hey, Tank!" "What?" The Dumb Jock replies. "He went that way." She says and points to the shortest way that goes to the front of the school and Nym grows a relieved smile on his face. "He who?" The very dumb jock replies. Katey rubs the bridge of her nose, knowing Tank is obviously an idiot that doesn't know his left from his right. "Nym. Nym went that way, Tank." Katey finally says and Nym can hear the "oh" escape Tanks empty head and run off.

Nym watches Katey follow Tank with her eyes before they shift back down to Nym. "All clear." She says with a smile and puts a hand out. Smiling, Nym takes it and stands up. "Thanks for that." Nym says and they start talking until the sun starts to set, then Nym walks home.

The next day, Nym is greeted by a new friendly face that she hopes will stay friendy: Katey. "Hey, Nym." She says with a smile. "Hey." Nym says back, smile also on her face. Just what she really needed, a friend. A real friend that will talk to her even if they're at school. Katey follows Nym to her locker, leaning against the one next to it and smiling at Nym as she watches her. Nym just goes about business stuffing her locker and getting the stuff she needs. "Nym, I don't care what you are, I like you." Katey says and Nym stops and just stares at her, her face neutral against Katey's grin. "Are you...kidding me?" Nym says and Katey nods.

For whatever reason, Katey gets closer, like she going to do something Nym didn't that anyone would do. But that was before the yell of the head jock blew everyone's eardrums. "Katey?!" He comes stomping up and pushes Katey behind him where some of his buddies grab her. "What the hell are you trying to do with my sister, huh? What, you think she likes you or something? What did you do? Drug her?" Nym narrows his eyes and looks the Jock right in the eye. "I didn't drug your sister, idiot. She came onto me!"

The Jock's eyes get wide and he turns to look at Katey. Katey shakes her head no, disagreeing with Nym, and Nym's jaw drops. "Looks like someone need a little lesson on lying." He punches Nym in the ribs then pushed her on the ground to where he allows his men to come forth and kick her wherever they want. When it's all over, everyone leaves and goes to class, but Katey. "Nym, I'm sorry, I just-" "Stop. I don't give a fuck, a'ight. Just-just leave me alone." Nym says as she pulls herself up and heads to the door of the building. "And where are you going, huh? You can't just leave!" Katey says, angry now.

Nym doesn't reply and leaves. She finds herself in the park, birds singing, and sits on a bench. "Hey, man, you want some of the good stuff?" Some guy in torn up clothes says and puts out a hand, palm up, with little colored tablets with dollar sign design on each one. Nym shrugs, thinking what the hell, and takes one. All the pain, all the sorrow, is gone. Like magic.

So begins...

Nym Rocis's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felicia Barlow Character Portrait: Juan "Joe" Martinez Character Portrait: Eleanor Pennhurst Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake
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The wiry male wedged a cigarette between his teeth trying to strike a match. He'd searched the rooms over the last few weeks, but all he'd been able to find was a half full box of matches. No lighter fluid at all. Finally the patch struck and he held it close to the end of the sloppily rolled paper, jutting his jaw out to get it to alight. Then he shook the match out just as it began to tickle his fingers, leaving the end of his forefinger singed red. He grunted and blew out a trail of smoke, sticking the hurt finger into his mouth in its wake. Then he leaned back in his chair, a high backed red one that one of the others had introduced to him a few months ago, one that had stuck in his memory enough to appear often for him.

A small window with a multitude of panes stared out at the sunset. It was flickering back and forth between reality and memory. Reality showed him a barren scrubland with the heavy sun bouncing along the horizon, and his memory showed him the view from his room of cars whizzing past. He could almost feel the light breeze chuckling in, stealing away the scent of smoke drizzling from his mouth. Mom and Dad hadn’t cared if he smoked or not, they didn’t care about him at all.

“That doesn’t matter.” He told himself sternly, shoving the smoke back into his mouth and taking a deep drag. He could almost feel the energy running through his veins, killing him slowly. He had to keep positive. They were having a meeting later and if he was in a bad mood, things wouldn’t go over well. He had to be there for the almost. They needed support, not anger.

Daniel sighed and shifted in his chair, letting reality flood fully over him. He extinguished his half smoked cigarette on a window pane, leaving an ashy smudge. He needed something to read, but he’d read everything too many times. He’d never been an avid reader, and all the things he’d ever read weren’t entertaining enough for a second go. And he’d never read enough of the textbooks to reread those now.

Suddenly the door opened at the far end of the small room. A living wandered in, saw him, then froze. Half the room changed from the sulking maroon he’d made it to a bright blue, fish tanks materializing out of nowhere. It was too crowded. His bookshelves and lightstands hadn’t taken up too much room, but the tanks were too large. Thankfully the entrance hadn’t taken his chair or the window.

“Hey. Get out of here.” He snapped, flicking his smoke butt to the ground and rising. His vacated spot turned into a glass table with a fish bowl on it. He let out a sound of exasperation. Smoking always put him on edge, and since this wasn’t someone he knew, why not take out some of his frustration out on them?

“What do you think you’re doing, eh? Didn’t you see that this room was occupied? Get out. You dumb little snot.” Daniel approached the small girl as his voice rose in tone.

Her eyes grew wide, and her hands clenched around her shoulders, covering her chest. She burst into tears, elbowed him in the stomach, and ran past him, hiding among the fishbowls. Daniel grunted and doubled over. His mouth thinned to a line as he eased out of the room. The barren hallways stared at him, the evenly placed bare bulbs swinging slowly, keeping time in the timeless place.

Well, that had been a mistake. Some livings were more reactionary than others. Especially the younger ones. He rubbed his gut and sighed. Maybe he should start setting up the room now? He regretted yelling at the kid, and maybe it’d take his mind off things. Hard work was good for that. His fingers jittered on his thighs as he ambled down the hall, torn between hyperactivity and laziness. He was bored. He was always bored. Even though he tried not to dwell on the past, his own inadequacies, his cruelness, his worthlessness, there really wasn’t much else to do without going insane.

He stretched first one foot then the other, then his arms, then his back, which rippled and popped pleasantly. And then he made a mistake. A rule of being an awake was to always check around corners before one went down them just in case a Dead was right there. They only attacked what was in range, and Awakes were their favorite targets. Indeed, there was a Dead woman staring at a picture of a red square just around the corner. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and most of her hair had been pulled out. Obviously her own work, because it was in her fingernails.

The woman let out a brittle scream when he spotted her, turning her hollow, red rimmed eyes to him. She barred her teeth at him, a growl wheezing from her throat.

“Oops, sorry.” He said, backpedaling quickly. The woman chased him a few feet, before losing interest. He ran down the hall, then the next, then another one for good measure. By the end he was wheezing and gasping for breath. Yeah, it was definitely time to find a safe place to rest. Time to start the meeting. Hopefully someone else was already hanging out down there and they could help him try the door until water appeared.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felicia Barlow Character Portrait: Juan "Joe" Martinez Character Portrait: Eleanor Pennhurst Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake
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A couple of twitches here.

A flicker of the eyelids there.

A sudden curl of the fingers...


Big emerald eyes shot open, accompanied by a scream that tore through Felicia's throat that seemed to last for decades. When finally realizing that, after years of fighting through the nightmares, she had finally awaken. Her screams were finally being heard. With her body still clenched tight, her scream finally silenced, an echo still dragging on through her room and the hallways beyond as her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she shot up into a upright position, wincing at the stiffness she felt in her body from such a sharp movement. What..? She glanced down at her bare body, covered by a thin, torn blanket and with a shock to her spine, was thrust into a vivid flash.

"I'll give you something to hold on."

"Mommy!"

"Just relax baby doll, everything will be over soon.."


Seeming to be released from the flash, she thrust forward, leaning over as Felicia gasped for air. Her hands shook and, for a moment, it felt like she had been sent back into her nightmare, trapped in her body once more. Her hands tightened around the blanket as she stood, slowly, on unsteady feet. She'd be damned if she'd let herself go back to sleep. She had no clue how long it had been, but, after noticing that she now had breasts and curves that no 12 year old should have, she assumed that she had been asleep for quite awhile despite being awake throughout reliving her past in her dreams. Running her fingers through slightly tangled hair, she dared to venture further towards her closed door and with a shaky hand, pulled it open.

A Dead stared right back at her, his eyes sunken in his stark white face. His clothes were dangerously dirtied and torn with dried blood scattered over him. The two stared at each other blankly before simultaneously letting out screams; one of terror and the other of anger. Letting her blanket fall to the floor, she quickly tried to shut the door shut only to catch the Dead's arm in the doorway. It clawed and flailed about before grabbing a hold of her throat as she tried her best to push her body weight into the door. Whimpering, she hoped someone would be alerted by the snarling of the Dead and run to her rescue, but she knew that any sane person would run the opposite way if they ever came across such a thing like this. Still plagued by the dreams that still consumed her brain, she was still unable to speak. So she did the next best thing.

With as much air she could summon up with the Deads hand around her throat, she sent a scream loud enough to echo throughout the building in hopes of alerting someone to help.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felicia Barlow Character Portrait: Juan "Joe" Martinez Character Portrait: Eleanor Pennhurst Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake Character Portrait: Lavender Wales
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Tap, tap, tap, freaking tap. The noise was starting to get to Eleanor. She sat in the middle of the room, trying to read some book that didn't really catch her attention in the first place. Her long limbs were snaked into a curled up shape, comfortable but also compact. Easier to avoid the Deads and the Livings when you didn't have any limbs sticking out. Her blonde hair framed the book which she held quite close to her face.

Tap tap tap. Eleanor gritted her teeth. The room had been nice before that idiot had come in. Technically, he wasn't even in the room. No, he was outside it, in the room just next door. She had had a lovely silent room that was nice and dark with a few candles to help her read the book that she had read ten times before. And then he decided to go next door and make noise. The young woman caught her tongue and tried counting slowly. Counting worked sometimes. She liked counting. She did it quite often. A bit too often but no one really needed to know that.

Ten.

The tapping continued, like someone knocking on her skull repeatedly. She grit her teeth tighter, the pain wearing the edge a little.

Nine.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the numbers.

Eight.

Seven.

Tap tap tap.

Eleanor gripped the book exceedingly tightly and slowly started to tear it in half, his face screwed up into a snarl.

Six.

Counting was not working this time. She didn't feel any calmer. In fact, she just felt angrier and angrier. This guy needed to die.

Five.

No, she couldn't do that. Everyone at the meeting would be disappointed. That and casual murder over a tapping noise was kind of frowned upon. No matter how insufferable it was.

Four.

Eleanor was sure that the tapping was getting louder. She found it harder to hold her tongue as the tang of blood started to fill her mouth.

Thr-

That was it. She got to her feet, the room crumbling and swathes of red replacing the gentle shadows. She stormed into the other room, painting it red and snarling at the source of the noise. He looked up, confused and more than a little fearful. Eleanor sneered at this before throwing the two separate halves of the book at his face, enjoying the pitiful howl the person gave.

"Next time, keep quiet or I'll make sure you never make another noise ever again." She said coldly, her nails digging into her palms tightly and creating little crescent shaped cuts. She then aimed a harsh kick at the Living's stomach and snarled at him. Her rage subsided a little after this and she was present enough of mind to leave before she ripped his face off. She went out into a corridor, her face still like thunder and her fists clenched by her sides. She spotted a few Deads standing about and hissed at them, her rage still flowing but with less of an edge to it. Her boots stamped on the wooden floors, marking her path through the house. A living or two spotted her coming stayed out of her way, thankfully. Eleanor growled at them as she passed, her eyes hard as slate.

Great. She had a meeting soon and now she'd have to explain why her hands were bleeding again and why she was inches away from snapping completely and truly going off on a rampage. And she had been doing so well. Eleanor let out a strangled noise as she tried to repress the anger that tore round her veins. Eventually she found her cold core, the rage freezing over into a frosty iciness. Her face went blank but her eyes remained just as hard.

"...It's better than nothing." She muttered darkly, briskly making her way round the building, keeping her icy mask in place as the rage threatened to melt through. "At least I'm trying. To an extent." With that, she moved through the barren corridors, as silent as a ghost and as cold as ice.

The mask was slipping although she tried to keep it up and strong. Eleanor stalked around the barren corridors, painting them an icy hard blue. The meeting was meant to be starting soon but she wasn't going to be the first one there, oh god no. She had better things to do with her time. Like wander round the corridors, giving the livings dirty looks and snarling angrily at the deads. She paced like an angry tiger, her face contorted into a angry looking grimace. She was just coming down from another tantrum and was trying to cover it with ice. Her outward appearance was becoming increasingly cold while her core burned and hissed with fire.

Eleanor was angry. Not fully angry but still dangerous, still someone you didn't want to provoke. The livings gave her a wide berth as she muttered to herself. The ice covered corridor slowly started to melt and red leapt around the walls. It was not going well today, she couldn't keep her icy mask on. The young woman was ready to snap at the next person when a piercing scream startled her. Why was everyone so freaking loud today? Didn't they know how annoying noise was? Acting on impulse, Eleanor turned on her heel and ran towards the screaming, red streaking the corridors as she ran.

She reached the origin of the scream, her eyes blazing and face screwed up into an ugly snarl. A Dead had a girl in it's grip. Eleanor was not in a good mood. She loathed the Deads with a burning passion. She didn't have the self restraint right now. Therefore, Eleanor was about to do something she'd wanted to do for a while. She was given the chance to finally

"Hey! Let her go!" She growled, her hands like claws by her sides. Before giving the Dead any time to react, two quick swipes tore at the thing's face. He howled in anger before switching his attention away from the other girl and releasing her. Eleanor growled dangerously, a malicious grin pulling across her face. The Dead howled, lunging forward as Eleanor rushed forward. She planted her hands on the man's chest and pushed. The thing fell, arms flailing. One hit Eleanor's face, the raggedy nails catching the skin. She let out a pained hiss, white scratches and a few tiny drops of blood appearing on her face. She aimed a quick kick in the Dead's stomach before quickly grabbing the girl's wrist and pulling her from the room. With a hard shove, Eleanor pushed the dead into the room and closed the door on it. Holding the door shut, she waited until the hammering and noises stopped.

"...Must have lost interest." Eleanor remarked flatly, pushing blonde strands of hair from her face. She shook her head slightly and turned to the girl, her icy cold mask in place. "You're welcome." A quick cold smile before looking back down the corridor. Her cold eyes narrowed before she sighed and turned. She started walking away, the corridor freezing over as her mask fell back into place. This wasn't her problem. She had a meeting to attend and an outburst to admit to. She had to look after herself. Eleanor made her way back to the corridor and started to wait, once more, determined that she wouldn't be the first to the meeting. Because she had much better things to do with her time. Clearly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felicia Barlow Character Portrait: Juan "Joe" Martinez Character Portrait: Eleanor Pennhurst Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake
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Nym looks down at the floor of the room she is in as she paces, back and forth, nonstop. The room is painted a dark forest green with a window that has bars on the outside of it. If it really is the outside that is. To Nym, it has the view of the apartment of one of her less of a good influence friends. The room was empty minus the wooden chair that Nym used to block up the door so no deads can find their way in, like it would help. She needs to leave soon anyways. Until then, she stays in this room, pacing back and forth, trying not to change her mindset of doing what must be done.

"Think. Distraction. What distracts you?" Stopping mid-pace, Nym turns to see a little table with a drawer on it. Walking slowly to the little drawer, Nym opens it to see a little bag full of the stuff Nym doesn't want to get back into, whether it's real or not. She slams the drawer shut and turns away, getting back into her pacing. "No, no, no. That's not the answer." Stopping again and turning to the door, Nym cocks her head to the side, her eyes wide, as she comes to a realization that is most likely not true. "Hell. We all died and went to hell. That must be it. And our hell is this damn place!" She turns to kick the nearest wall and ends up kicking a safe that appears.

Letting out a yip of pain and grabbing her foot, she stumbles backwards and falls on her back. "Funny. Real funny. Thank you, Satan, for letting me know you have a sense of humor." She mumbles to herself and stares up at the ceiling. Staring at the ceiling for a minute, Nym let out a long, bored sigh before sitting up with a grunt. She leaned inward slightly and reached her hands up behind her head. Grabbing the short hair on the back of her neck, she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a tired, long groan, the type that people do when they know they need to get something done, but they don't want to for two reason. One, they're too tired or too lazy - or both - and two, they just plainly don't want to do it.

Shaking her head and whipping her bangs to the side, Nym sighed before standing up. She tilted her head downward as she scratched the top of her head then looked up and at the drawer of the little table. Letting out another groan, she walked over and pulled the little bag with little yellow tablets in it out of the drawer then slammed the drawer shut. To her not-so-much-surprise, the stamps on the tablets were pikachu heads. Sighing, she stuffed the bag into the pocket of her jacket and walked to the door. She kicked the chair over and, carefully, opened and existed the room, immanently feeling the cold. Nym reached up and put the hood of her jacket over her head before walking down the hall.

She was careful as she walked. No one really noticed her as she didn't have a big affect on anything, plus she was quiet. The only noise she made was the sound of rustling plastic from the bag in her pocket.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Felicia Barlow Character Portrait: Juan "Joe" Martinez Character Portrait: Eleanor Pennhurst Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake Character Portrait: Lavender Wales
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Lavender sat in the corner of her room staring at the chipping red wall in front of her. Why red? Why not blue or green, or even yellow, Lavender hated yellow. The red reminded Lavender of blood and she had to shake her head to get the image of hot thick blood running down her walls out of her mind. The only other thing in the room was a ripped up couch just like the one she had at her house in her old life. Why did they want her to remember? So many questions and so much time to find the answers then think of new questions. There were always questions. Outside her door it was quiet as always, Lavender craved noise now but she didn't want to talk, if she talked to herself she would have to admit she was crazy. Too late. Lavender sighed and stood up, she walked over to the only window in the room dragging her feet as loudly as possible so that she could hear the sweet wonderful noise. Looking out the window all she saw was wasteland though there were a few birds flying around. Lucky birds, they got to go wherever they wanted. The were free.
Free
Free
Free
God she was crazy.
God
Was God real? Lavender didn't think so. She may have killed her mother but it wasn't entirely her fault, and even if it was she didn't think God would be cruel enough to send anyone here. So he must not be real.
Lavender looked down at the chipping window seal. Everything was chipping and peeling, the walls, the window, her lips. When was the last time she had water? She couldn't remember. But then again, Lavender had a horrible memory. Yet for some reason she couldn't forget the bad stuff. She must be being punished. Maybe she died and is serving her days in Hell. Lavender didn't like the thought but really was there any other? Wasn't Hell supposed to be all fire and demons? Maybe this isn't Hell, but it sure is close. A raven flew in front of her window and stared at her. They looked at each other for a few minutes before Lavender bit her lip and slowly started to back away from the window. As she was backing up Lavender trip on a nail in the floor and ended up falling backwards hitting her head on the floor. "Oopsie!" she whispered as she sat up and rubbed the back of her head. Oopsie? When did she start saying that? A grin spread across Lavender's face and she started giggling madly.
Yup. She was definitely crazy.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nym Rocis Character Portrait: Daniel Blake
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There was no one there when he came up on the room they used for meetings. He opened and shut the door a few time, but nothing interesting generated. It was all too small. After a few tried he decided that his attempts were futile. He scratched his nose and stood still for a second, evaluating his options. Well, he could wait for the others to show up and they could try the door in turns, usually that worked better than haphazardly rolling the dice for what he wanted. The rooms could only give them what was in their heads, but when he wanted a specific thing it liked to tease him, giving him the chairs or the size or whatever else he wanted but nothing else. It was better worked by moods than by thoughts.

It would be wiser to take a break for a few minutes come back. If he tried too hard he'd get frustrated. By this point his heart rate had calmed down, and he was breathing normally again, maybe it'd be fine to light up and take a walk. He produced a match that he'd found in the room he'd recently vacated and sparked up a fresh smoke, taking a pull before shaking out the patch and dropping it on the barren tile floor. He really didn't care about how clean this place was kept, with everyone wandering the halls all the time without anyone to clean up. Sometimes things became miraculously clean again, as if the halls reset themselves, and sometimes the grime and dirt built up for weeks. Time was growing meaningless, however, and Danny had trouble keeping up with it as it rushed on without him. Was time even passing at all?

Big thoughts, too big for him. He blew smoke from between his teeth and turned the corner, flicking ashes from his smoke with two fingers. Then he spotted a dark haired girl, her back to him, walking down the hall by herself. Another awake. he recognized her. Or...him, as Nym preferred to be referred to as. He tried to get to know all the awakes, even if they didn't really know him. Was she going to the meeting?

An earnest expression bloomed on his face and he plucked the cigarette from his mouth, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. "Hey, Nym!" He called out, jogging to catch up with the other awake. Okay, maybe he tried a bit too hard sometimes, but it as for a good reason. If they could just find a way to get out all his efforts would pay off. Until that point, however, sometimes he worried about coming off to strong. He wasn't perfect, and it was blatantly obvious way too much. But it wouldn't stop him from trying his hardest. He just had to hang on and help the others too.

"How are you?" He asked as he came closer. "Anything new?" He clamped the cigarette back between his teeth so he could make a half wave and a bared-teeth grin at the other awake. He considered all the awakes his friends, anyone he could keep a coherent conversation with was a good friend to keep in his book. He didn't know how the others felt, but he was lonely. If he didn't talk to somebody at least once a day he started to lose it again. And that was the scariest thought of all. What if he lost it and wasted away in this place forever? Turned into a raving dead, just standing and staring at the wall as his hair and teeth slowly fell out, leaving him a pasty blank corpse on feet.