Introduction
Introduction
Things are not going well, to no real fault of your own. When you were young, you had dreams, ambitions, and energy to enact those plans. In your imagination, a stick could be a sword and pillows could be a fort. Waking up was less of a conquest and more of an enjoyment. The world was colored until it drained itself out into the drab gray you see it in now. Trying to close your eyes after the daylight hours is just a reminder of all the things you have yet to accomplish. Turning on the television that once held all the things your heart desired now only holds a silky reminder that you are not as far along as you probably should be, as you probably could be if only you tried a little harder, did a little better, stepped a little further.
What seems to be an easy early morning jog for others is more of a downhill spiral for you. While others can use your bruised and broken frame as landmarks on the smooth roads to their dreams, you feel stuck in place, lost in every sense of the word. No, advice is not what you've asked for, so don't give any. No, you don't need a helping hand when you can't even bother lifting yours from underneath your frail frame. No, negative reinforcement only makes you feel worse and the positive kind just makes you feel false and undeserving.
Depression is a terrible thing.
Every day medical science is making further and further advances, pushing the bounds of disease and illness further and further back.
But of all the different ways we reassure ourselves, the least comforting is this: "It's already too late." When you were born, you could have been anybody. So quick and malleable, your parents could look at your face and see a future president. They tried to mold you as you grew, but they could only work with what they had. And when their tools stopped working, they slowly handed off to you, asking "What do you want to be when you grow up?". There's a certain art to becoming who you are. A teenage personality is a delicate medium, it's emotions are almost too heavy to handle. You have to keep yourself together, and tease out the good parts without stretching yourself too thin. You can never stop moving for too long, of focus just on one side, or you'll fall outta balance and never stand on your own two feet. You can't ignore your flaws, but you can't just fix them either and force yourself to change even if you keep getting burned.
But the toughest thing to master is the sense that your personality is hardening over time. That the fire that kept you flexible all these years is dimming, and you're becoming set in your ways. You can still recall the heat of youth, that once kept you warm on a dingy couch, or a night in the wilderness. At any given time you remained untouchable. At any given time you knew that you weren't just you. You were also the person you will one day soon become. But now it's hard to deny that you are anyone but yourself; you are who you are, for better or worse. For all your wondering what kind of person you were going to become, you forgot that question actually has an answer, and that 'one day' will soon arrive, if it hasn't already.
Now you wonder if you can change, even if you wanted to.
Could you fix your mistakes? Could you escape the howling winds of madness and uncertainty that have begun to blow down your security?
Or would you even want to?
Setting & Plot
Life is complex. Life is kind and life is cruel. But never in that order. Life strikes those it arbitrarily chooses with disease of the worst kind: the disease of mentality and altered perspective. Society calls these diseases "mental disorder" and you are forced to become a bystander to life, rather than a main character. Luckily, you've managed to find the most comforting of arms. The arms of Brink. While not a hospital, nor a rehabilitation center, Brink offers it's patients the luxuries of both, while giving a steady paycheck to those beneath it's care. The catch? The drugs prescribed are untested, experimental, and wild. The patients of the facility have all given consent to become the collared guinea pigs of the clinic all for the hope of normalcy.
The staff are friendly enough. The drugs don't seem to have any major fatal consequences, and the steady paycheck of $400 a week. Not exactly a glamorous amount, but fair enough to attract troubled individuals hard on their luck. Should they deem the person too unsafe or too fragile for the main of society, they provide in-clinic housing. Ready to accommodate your needs as they develop your eventual cure.
However, life under Brink's watchful eye is never always what it seems. Experimental drugs are one thing, but scratched away or missing labels, whispers behind locked doors, and their odd rate of tossing patients into a mental healthcare center are another. The oldest group of subjects have begun noticing trends in their symptoms. While the pronounced effects of their depression, mania, or anxiety may lessen, they're often accentuated by, bouts of psychosis and delusions. These open-eyed dreams are often of similar things; Shadows in the dark, twisting things in the corner of your eyes, and a void of being that claims authority over those who see it. In addition to the hallucinations, is the nightly problem of sleepwalking. Sometimes simply a few feet, other times a patient will awaken on the other side of town, with no memory how they could have made it there. Sometimes, patients will experience nothing for months on end, other times it's a nightly issue.
While certainly something to worry about, these issues are watered-down enough to where only the oldest generation of patients have even begun to notice the effects. Yet any questions aimed at the Brink staff lead to vague answers and false promises.
However, for those caught under their arms, life still goes on. The storm will pass, and they are forced to pick up the waterlogged pieces. Relationships are built, and friendships destroyed. Society may be a distant thing for those in the clinic, but the program has started something of a society of it's own.
The Brink clinic is a decently-sized white building situated at the intersection of a back road and several alleyways. The building is boring, but functional. The upper floors are dedicated to the staff, while the lower floors to the lobby and patients. The city itself is exactly that; a city. The name is unimportant and mundane, while the residents are tired and gray. Life certainly occupies the buildings, but it doesn't thrive, it survives. The darkest corners go unpatrolled, and the police hold their power like a baby does a rattle. A tight grip, but an uncertain one. The city is indistinguishable from any other, yet lacks defining traits to put it on any particular map. It exists because people live here, and continue to do so. Stonetown is a force to be reckoned with, in the same way a forest is. Tranquil, chaotic, and yet somehow contained.
Characterization and Regulations
This RP will be focused on characters and their interactions. There is no "main goal" of this roleplay, except for your character to seek treatment. Secondary goals would be things like uncovering Brink's secrets and building stable friendships and forming natural enemies. Most, (if not all characters will be patients or friends and family of patients that live or simply work for Brink in their medical testing facility. I will be playing the whole of the staff. As far as characters go, you may have as many as you wish, with whatever qualities you like. However, Shared Delusions has no supernatural forces. There is no magic, no angels or demons. While this RP does take place in the near future of a old city, all mundane technology is essentially the same. Perhaps the iPhone 10 is out instead of the 7, but other than small technological improvements like these, all things will remain the same. I would like the story to focus on the characters in the RP and their interactions with each other and the world around them, though I have no qualms with these characters not being in their best state of mind. One is allowed to believe they have superpowers, it is another to actually give it to them.
Characters that are patients under the program will require one mental illness. The main of which being depression. Anything else, be it Antisocial personality disorder, Dissociative Identity disorder, or even general Anxiety will be accepted and treated under the program. Violence is allowed. This is still a functioning society, so there will be obvious consequences for attempted murder, suicide, or anything else. Please do not be overly graphic when describing scenes of violence. Describe what is necessary, useless gore and grotesque imagery is both rude and unwanted. Sexual actions however, are prohibited. If you and another RPer agree that your characters are having sexual relations, then take it elsewhere, and only allude to it here.
As far as posting goes, I'd like to see roughly 300 word posts about once or twice a week. Posts will be narrative-style, in the third-person. That means if we were to print these pages, it would read like a book. Mistakes are understandable, but please proofread your work before posting. Collaborative posts are allowed, and are counted as a post for all participants. Collaborative posts must still meet the 300 word limit. To collab a post, simply talk with the other person and agree on a format, a medium, and poster. I prefer to use Google Docs, but there are other methods online. While I want the CS to be in a clinical tone, I'd like the writing to remain creative and in whatever tone you naturally write in. If you're skilled enough, attempt to write the story in a tone that matches the outlook of your character(s).
I'm willing to bend on the posting requirements, based on the flow of the RP, actual life, or anything you bring to my attention, I'm more than happy to extend that time for you, so long as you explain yourself and let me know of your absence in advance. On the other hand, if you vanish like a vampire at noon then I'll keep your place open for two weeks before making a in-game reason they are suddenly gone. I will also be allowing others to take on your character, if they so wish. Disappear for long enough without even a peep into the black, and I'll remove your character completely. Character reservation is easy. Simply tell me your initial ideas of the character, (the more the better), in the OOC. I'll hold open your spot for as long as you tell me you'll need it. Just communicate with me, and we can all get along perfectly. If you reserve a character, but fail to deliver and don't update anyone, a slightly modified version of the rules above will come into play. I would prefer that everyone have an faceclaim, but I have no requirements of it being a famous actor or celebrity. It could be the cute boy from across the street for all I care. Just be sure it looks alright on the CS.
I'd appreciate it if you all used the provided character sheet below. Please write from the clinic's standpoint. This should be a clear description about everything that Brink could reasonably acquire about your character. A lot of people misunderstand what I mean by clinical tone. They think it means using big words, or trying to sound smart. Or they think it means a focus on "grimdark." This is not correct. The following are things to remember when trying for the right tone.
Be Precise And Concise.
Be precise: Avoid ambiguous wording. Be concise: Don't use many words where fewer will do the job. Don't use longer words just because they "sound smarter" (unless they actually are more appropriate). Avoid ambiguous or flowery wording. Don't use more adjectives than are necessary. You're writing a technical paper β write plainly.
Be Professional.
You're writing from the perspective of a Brink researcher. Most professionals wouldn't send their boss a report with a fart joke in it. You also probably wouldn't use slang in a research paper for school. As well, researchers should try to be detached and unemotional in their writing. Not because they don't have emotions, but because letting that slip into their writing makes them seem less objective and makes the writing more emotionally charged.
Follow the rules, Communicate, and I'm ready to see you all!
Things are not going well, to no real fault of your own. When you were young, you had dreams, ambitions, and energy to enact those plans. In your imagination, a stick could be a sword and pillows could be a fort. Waking up was less of a conquest and more of an enjoyment. The world was colored until it drained itself out into the drab gray you see it in now. Trying to close your eyes after the daylight hours is just a reminder of all the things you have yet to accomplish. Turning on the television that once held all the things your heart desired now only holds a silky reminder that you are not as far along as you probably should be, as you probably could be if only you tried a little harder, did a little better, stepped a little further.
What seems to be an easy early morning jog for others is more of a downhill spiral for you. While others can use your bruised and broken frame as landmarks on the smooth roads to their dreams, you feel stuck in place, lost in every sense of the word. No, advice is not what you've asked for, so don't give any. No, you don't need a helping hand when you can't even bother lifting yours from underneath your frail frame. No, negative reinforcement only makes you feel worse and the positive kind just makes you feel false and undeserving.
Depression is a terrible thing.
Every day medical science is making further and further advances, pushing the bounds of disease and illness further and further back.
But of all the different ways we reassure ourselves, the least comforting is this: "It's already too late." When you were born, you could have been anybody. So quick and malleable, your parents could look at your face and see a future president. They tried to mold you as you grew, but they could only work with what they had. And when their tools stopped working, they slowly handed off to you, asking "What do you want to be when you grow up?". There's a certain art to becoming who you are. A teenage personality is a delicate medium, it's emotions are almost too heavy to handle. You have to keep yourself together, and tease out the good parts without stretching yourself too thin. You can never stop moving for too long, of focus just on one side, or you'll fall outta balance and never stand on your own two feet. You can't ignore your flaws, but you can't just fix them either and force yourself to change even if you keep getting burned.
But the toughest thing to master is the sense that your personality is hardening over time. That the fire that kept you flexible all these years is dimming, and you're becoming set in your ways. You can still recall the heat of youth, that once kept you warm on a dingy couch, or a night in the wilderness. At any given time you remained untouchable. At any given time you knew that you weren't just you. You were also the person you will one day soon become. But now it's hard to deny that you are anyone but yourself; you are who you are, for better or worse. For all your wondering what kind of person you were going to become, you forgot that question actually has an answer, and that 'one day' will soon arrive, if it hasn't already.
Now you wonder if you can change, even if you wanted to.
Could you fix your mistakes? Could you escape the howling winds of madness and uncertainty that have begun to blow down your security?
Or would you even want to?
Setting & Plot
Life is complex. Life is kind and life is cruel. But never in that order. Life strikes those it arbitrarily chooses with disease of the worst kind: the disease of mentality and altered perspective. Society calls these diseases "mental disorder" and you are forced to become a bystander to life, rather than a main character. Luckily, you've managed to find the most comforting of arms. The arms of Brink. While not a hospital, nor a rehabilitation center, Brink offers it's patients the luxuries of both, while giving a steady paycheck to those beneath it's care. The catch? The drugs prescribed are untested, experimental, and wild. The patients of the facility have all given consent to become the collared guinea pigs of the clinic all for the hope of normalcy.
The staff are friendly enough. The drugs don't seem to have any major fatal consequences, and the steady paycheck of $400 a week. Not exactly a glamorous amount, but fair enough to attract troubled individuals hard on their luck. Should they deem the person too unsafe or too fragile for the main of society, they provide in-clinic housing. Ready to accommodate your needs as they develop your eventual cure.
However, life under Brink's watchful eye is never always what it seems. Experimental drugs are one thing, but scratched away or missing labels, whispers behind locked doors, and their odd rate of tossing patients into a mental healthcare center are another. The oldest group of subjects have begun noticing trends in their symptoms. While the pronounced effects of their depression, mania, or anxiety may lessen, they're often accentuated by, bouts of psychosis and delusions. These open-eyed dreams are often of similar things; Shadows in the dark, twisting things in the corner of your eyes, and a void of being that claims authority over those who see it. In addition to the hallucinations, is the nightly problem of sleepwalking. Sometimes simply a few feet, other times a patient will awaken on the other side of town, with no memory how they could have made it there. Sometimes, patients will experience nothing for months on end, other times it's a nightly issue.
While certainly something to worry about, these issues are watered-down enough to where only the oldest generation of patients have even begun to notice the effects. Yet any questions aimed at the Brink staff lead to vague answers and false promises.
However, for those caught under their arms, life still goes on. The storm will pass, and they are forced to pick up the waterlogged pieces. Relationships are built, and friendships destroyed. Society may be a distant thing for those in the clinic, but the program has started something of a society of it's own.
The Brink clinic is a decently-sized white building situated at the intersection of a back road and several alleyways. The building is boring, but functional. The upper floors are dedicated to the staff, while the lower floors to the lobby and patients. The city itself is exactly that; a city. The name is unimportant and mundane, while the residents are tired and gray. Life certainly occupies the buildings, but it doesn't thrive, it survives. The darkest corners go unpatrolled, and the police hold their power like a baby does a rattle. A tight grip, but an uncertain one. The city is indistinguishable from any other, yet lacks defining traits to put it on any particular map. It exists because people live here, and continue to do so. Stonetown is a force to be reckoned with, in the same way a forest is. Tranquil, chaotic, and yet somehow contained.
Characterization and Regulations
This RP will be focused on characters and their interactions. There is no "main goal" of this roleplay, except for your character to seek treatment. Secondary goals would be things like uncovering Brink's secrets and building stable friendships and forming natural enemies. Most, (if not all characters will be patients or friends and family of patients that live or simply work for Brink in their medical testing facility. I will be playing the whole of the staff. As far as characters go, you may have as many as you wish, with whatever qualities you like. However, Shared Delusions has no supernatural forces. There is no magic, no angels or demons. While this RP does take place in the near future of a old city, all mundane technology is essentially the same. Perhaps the iPhone 10 is out instead of the 7, but other than small technological improvements like these, all things will remain the same. I would like the story to focus on the characters in the RP and their interactions with each other and the world around them, though I have no qualms with these characters not being in their best state of mind. One is allowed to believe they have superpowers, it is another to actually give it to them.
Characters that are patients under the program will require one mental illness. The main of which being depression. Anything else, be it Antisocial personality disorder, Dissociative Identity disorder, or even general Anxiety will be accepted and treated under the program. Violence is allowed. This is still a functioning society, so there will be obvious consequences for attempted murder, suicide, or anything else. Please do not be overly graphic when describing scenes of violence. Describe what is necessary, useless gore and grotesque imagery is both rude and unwanted. Sexual actions however, are prohibited. If you and another RPer agree that your characters are having sexual relations, then take it elsewhere, and only allude to it here.
As far as posting goes, I'd like to see roughly 300 word posts about once or twice a week. Posts will be narrative-style, in the third-person. That means if we were to print these pages, it would read like a book. Mistakes are understandable, but please proofread your work before posting. Collaborative posts are allowed, and are counted as a post for all participants. Collaborative posts must still meet the 300 word limit. To collab a post, simply talk with the other person and agree on a format, a medium, and poster. I prefer to use Google Docs, but there are other methods online. While I want the CS to be in a clinical tone, I'd like the writing to remain creative and in whatever tone you naturally write in. If you're skilled enough, attempt to write the story in a tone that matches the outlook of your character(s).
I'm willing to bend on the posting requirements, based on the flow of the RP, actual life, or anything you bring to my attention, I'm more than happy to extend that time for you, so long as you explain yourself and let me know of your absence in advance. On the other hand, if you vanish like a vampire at noon then I'll keep your place open for two weeks before making a in-game reason they are suddenly gone. I will also be allowing others to take on your character, if they so wish. Disappear for long enough without even a peep into the black, and I'll remove your character completely. Character reservation is easy. Simply tell me your initial ideas of the character, (the more the better), in the OOC. I'll hold open your spot for as long as you tell me you'll need it. Just communicate with me, and we can all get along perfectly. If you reserve a character, but fail to deliver and don't update anyone, a slightly modified version of the rules above will come into play. I would prefer that everyone have an faceclaim, but I have no requirements of it being a famous actor or celebrity. It could be the cute boy from across the street for all I care. Just be sure it looks alright on the CS.
I'd appreciate it if you all used the provided character sheet below. Please write from the clinic's standpoint. This should be a clear description about everything that Brink could reasonably acquire about your character. A lot of people misunderstand what I mean by clinical tone. They think it means using big words, or trying to sound smart. Or they think it means a focus on "grimdark." This is not correct. The following are things to remember when trying for the right tone.
Be Precise And Concise.
Be precise: Avoid ambiguous wording. Be concise: Don't use many words where fewer will do the job. Don't use longer words just because they "sound smarter" (unless they actually are more appropriate). Avoid ambiguous or flowery wording. Don't use more adjectives than are necessary. You're writing a technical paper β write plainly.
Be Professional.
You're writing from the perspective of a Brink researcher. Most professionals wouldn't send their boss a report with a fart joke in it. You also probably wouldn't use slang in a research paper for school. As well, researchers should try to be detached and unemotional in their writing. Not because they don't have emotions, but because letting that slip into their writing makes them seem less objective and makes the writing more emotionally charged.
Follow the rules, Communicate, and I'm ready to see you all!
- Code: Select all
[img]https://placehold.it/300x300[/img][right][size=200] [font=courier][b]γFULL NAMEγ[/b]
[b]/////////////////////////////////[/b][/font][/size]
[size=80][b][font=courier]"Something iconic your character would/has said."[/font][/size][/b]
(Place a 300x300 image of your character to the left of this. No Anime or Drawings. Then delete.)
[size=90][font=courier]Full Name:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Your character's full name.
Nicknames:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Nicknames for your character. Add in "quotes".
Age:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Your character's biological age.
Gender:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Your character's gender.
Sexuality:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Your character's sexual preference.
Ethnicity:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxx[/color]β| Your character's ethnicity (& Nationality)
Former Residence:[color=transparent]xx[/color]β| Where your Character lived before Brink.
Current Residence:[color=transparent]x[/color]β| Where your currently lives. (Stonetown or "Brink Research Lab")
Former Occupation:[color=transparent]x[/color]β| Your character's former job. If schooling, put "student".
Dialogue:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxx[/color]β| BBCode Font Color
Thoughts:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxx[/color]β| BBCode Font Color
[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx[/color][/font][/size][/right]
[hr][/hr]
[font=courier]Hair Color: [color=transparent]xxxx[/color]β| Character's Hair color. (Head & Body)
Eye Color:[color=transparent]xxxxx[/color] β| Character's eye color. (Please be realistic.)
Height:[color=transparent]xxxxxxxx[/color] β| (In Inches)
Weight: [color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color] β| (In Pounds)
Suffers From: [color=transparent].[/color] β| Character's Disorder/Disease/Disability
[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx[/color] β| Character's Disorder/Disease/Disability
[color=transparent]xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx[/color] β| etc. . . (add more if needed)[/font]
[color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][size=125][font=courier]β ////////////////////////////////////// [b]γabout FULL NAMEγ[/b][/font][/size]
[left][font=courier][b]Disorders[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]An in-depth description of your character's disorders. Paragraph-style, please.[/justify][/font]
[left][font=courier][b]Disposition[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]Your characterβs personality. Paragraph-style, please.[/font][/justify]
[left][font=courier][b]Traits & Quirks[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]Describe your characterβs strengths, weaknesses, and oddities. Paragraph-style, please.[/font][/justify]
[left][font=courier][b]Preferences[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]Your character's likes & dislikes. Paragraph-style, please.[/justify][/font]
[left][font=courier][b]History[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]Biography and how they came into Brinkβs care.[/font][/justify]
[left][font=courier][b]Other Notes[/b][color=transparent]xxxxxxx[/color][/font][/left]
[font=courier][justify]Anything else youβd like to mention about your character.[/font][/justify]
- 13 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors
The dawn was breaking over the city skyline. The cold interior of the Brink offices were bathed through the warm filter of the early morning light. The building was still quiet. What few patients lived in the building would most likely still be asleep for another hour, and the meager staff were gathered in the single conference room. The majority of the chair lay empty, leaving only four members left.
Dr. Kendall Stalle stood at the head of the table, pacing back and forth lightly. His lips were pursed, a look of worry tainting his face. His eyes were ragged with tiredness, and he'd take a break from holding his look of concern and thoughtfulness to yawn. Finally, he stopped pacing and looked at the rest of his team, ready to address them proper.
Even before he could speak, Felton cut him off. "We know it's bad news Stalle. Just, break the damn ice and get it over with."
Kendall swallowed, taken aback. "Er, ah- Yes." He said at last searching for the right words. "Management spoke with me last night. They're growing tired of our project. They want us to speed up our results, or they might have to consider cutting our funding." He looked at Felton in the eye. "I know what this project means to you all. To still be here after all the hardships -But, I appreciate it, and I know that so do our subjects."
"What does this mean for us?" Dimitri's voice invaded the room like reality does a dream.
"It means this; Tobi, I need you to take on double the work. We'll be filing things at twice the speed, and moving supplements out faster. Dimitri, I know the next batch of experimentals aren't done yet, but I need them done now. If anyone can-"
"Save your breath, Stalle." Dimitri spoke. "I can get it done."
During the course of the conversation, Felton's face grew more and more upset. His eyebrows closing the distance between and his eyes widening to better take in the true shock of the conversation. "Stalle! You have to step back a moment here, these are children not points of data. You're putting lives at stake, their physiology and psychology can't just undergo so much change. You're pushing them harder than I think may be safe."
Stalle breathed. Quick breath in, long exhale. He looked at Felton, his eyebrows raised, small beads of sweat on his forehead and glimmers of helplessness in his eyes. "That's why I need you. These children have somewhere or another found themselves at our feet, looking to cope, to relieve, to understand their problems. And we can't fail them. Those with us thus far have forgotten how terrible their actual symptoms are, and during the next few days, those demons that they left behind will come rushing back in, ready to strike again. I need you to be there for them. Provide emotional support." He looked back at Dimitri. "That said, I want you to begin distribution of the next phase for the oldest group. Put everyone else on placebos until the next round of experimentals is ready."
Dimitri just nodded. He took the information in, viewed the situation as a test, a chance to show the management how worthy he was of something better, but for now, he knew what needed to be done. "If you need me, I'll be in the basement."
Tobi looked down in her coffee. It churned with murky thoughts, and clouded morals. A brief look of concern crossed her face. "I'll begin reprocessing immediately. Managment won't be able to find anything wrong with the next set of results."
"Good. You're both dismissed." Stalle said.
Tobi and Dimitri left the room closing the door behind them. Each had their own destinations. Dimitri left for the basement, locking it behind him, while Tobi left for her office. Once there, she noticed a nice large package of paperwork in her 'mailbox'. She sighed, opened the door, grabbed out the package, entered her office, and got to work.
Stalle was still in the conference room when the hour passed. Felton had given him a piece of his mind, and he had deserved every second of it. Guilt hung over his mind, and he knew he'd never be able to wash his hands of the actions to come in the future.
"The maelstrom descends."
Dr. Kendall Stalle stood at the head of the table, pacing back and forth lightly. His lips were pursed, a look of worry tainting his face. His eyes were ragged with tiredness, and he'd take a break from holding his look of concern and thoughtfulness to yawn. Finally, he stopped pacing and looked at the rest of his team, ready to address them proper.
Even before he could speak, Felton cut him off. "We know it's bad news Stalle. Just, break the damn ice and get it over with."
Kendall swallowed, taken aback. "Er, ah- Yes." He said at last searching for the right words. "Management spoke with me last night. They're growing tired of our project. They want us to speed up our results, or they might have to consider cutting our funding." He looked at Felton in the eye. "I know what this project means to you all. To still be here after all the hardships -But, I appreciate it, and I know that so do our subjects."
"What does this mean for us?" Dimitri's voice invaded the room like reality does a dream.
"It means this; Tobi, I need you to take on double the work. We'll be filing things at twice the speed, and moving supplements out faster. Dimitri, I know the next batch of experimentals aren't done yet, but I need them done now. If anyone can-"
"Save your breath, Stalle." Dimitri spoke. "I can get it done."
During the course of the conversation, Felton's face grew more and more upset. His eyebrows closing the distance between and his eyes widening to better take in the true shock of the conversation. "Stalle! You have to step back a moment here, these are children not points of data. You're putting lives at stake, their physiology and psychology can't just undergo so much change. You're pushing them harder than I think may be safe."
Stalle breathed. Quick breath in, long exhale. He looked at Felton, his eyebrows raised, small beads of sweat on his forehead and glimmers of helplessness in his eyes. "That's why I need you. These children have somewhere or another found themselves at our feet, looking to cope, to relieve, to understand their problems. And we can't fail them. Those with us thus far have forgotten how terrible their actual symptoms are, and during the next few days, those demons that they left behind will come rushing back in, ready to strike again. I need you to be there for them. Provide emotional support." He looked back at Dimitri. "That said, I want you to begin distribution of the next phase for the oldest group. Put everyone else on placebos until the next round of experimentals is ready."
Dimitri just nodded. He took the information in, viewed the situation as a test, a chance to show the management how worthy he was of something better, but for now, he knew what needed to be done. "If you need me, I'll be in the basement."
Tobi looked down in her coffee. It churned with murky thoughts, and clouded morals. A brief look of concern crossed her face. "I'll begin reprocessing immediately. Managment won't be able to find anything wrong with the next set of results."
"Good. You're both dismissed." Stalle said.
Tobi and Dimitri left the room closing the door behind them. Each had their own destinations. Dimitri left for the basement, locking it behind him, while Tobi left for her office. Once there, she noticed a nice large package of paperwork in her 'mailbox'. She sighed, opened the door, grabbed out the package, entered her office, and got to work.
Stalle was still in the conference room when the hour passed. Felton had given him a piece of his mind, and he had deserved every second of it. Guilt hung over his mind, and he knew he'd never be able to wash his hands of the actions to come in the future.
"The maelstrom descends."
Raven
Raven sat perfectly still in her room, her eyes focused sharply on a tree outside as she clutched her small black teddy bear tightly in her hands.
"Look where you are. Look where she brought you. This is all your fault. You had to slip up. Dumbass. If you had just kept your sleeves clean you would've been fine. You would've been out there. You don't belong in here. We don't belong in here."
"Shut up. I know that. Don't think I don't know that. I know what I did wrong. I messed up I get it. Let's just make sure they don't do anything to us. As long as they don't touch Frank then it should be okay. He can protect us. He can make sure that no one will hurt us."
"Do you really think so? Everyone is out to get us R. Everyone. What if they put something in your food? What if they take Frank while we are sleeping? They probably are watching us right now, waiting for the perfect time to pounce."
She gripped Frank tighter and shifted out of the patch of sunlight, looking around the room suspiciously. She pulled the blinds shut quickly, blocking most of the sunlight before she went to search her room. The fourth time that morning, and just as thorough as every time before. She did this often. Almost like clockwork every hour, she searched her room for any signs of cameras or other things put in place to watch her every move. She hadn't been there often but she had already become quite used to her routine of making sure she and her "friends" were safe.
"Wait what is that? Is that a wire? Is it R? Is it??"
"Shut it, Jack. Let me look."
She bent down and reached under her bed, grabbing a small ladybug.
"Why didn't you watch Blackbird? Why didn't you make sure they didn't put this in here?"
"Sandy stop it. I couldn't help it. Just let me take it out. I'll flush it down the toilet and they won't ever know. It'll be okay."
Clutching Frank by his paw in her left hand, she left her room quietly, making her way to the bathroom. She kept looking around suspiciously as she went, making sure she was unnoticed. As soon as she got into the bathroom, she threw the bug in the toilet and flushed it quickly.
"There, it's gone. We are safe now. It's okay. They can't listen to us now."
She carefully set Frank onto the countertop before washing her hands thoroughly, making sure no trace of the "wiretap" was on her hands. Afterward, she grabbed Frank and walked quickly to her room, passing by an unfamiliar boy, making her uneasy.
"Who is he? Why is he here? Is he a spy?"
"Shut up Jack. You don't know that. They don't know we got rid of the wire. It's fine. He isn't out to get us. They don't know. He can't be here for that."
Raven walked into her room and shut the door, looking around her room in the same ritualistic fashion as every other time before sitting on her bed, clutching Frank against her chest.
Andrew
Andrew walked into the hall, looking around the sterile walls. As he made his way to his new room he saw a girl whispering to herself as she walked into what must be her room.
"Why did they have to bring me here? There is nothing wrong with me. I'm only fat, not crazy. I don't talk to myself. I don't hear voices in my head and I'm not going to kill myself. I'm just losing weight so I'm not so fat."
He pulled at his shirt, self-conscious as he walked into his new room, across from the girl who had passed him.
"Great now I have to live across from some psycho all because people don't see how fat I am. How do they not see all this?"
He pulled up his shirt and looked down at his stomach, seeing rolls of fat where there was only skin and bones.
"At least they let me pack my own bag. I have one of my jars. I will be okay. They can't stop be from becoming skinny. No one can."
He opened the drawer in his nightstand and gently ran his fingertips along the top of the jar. Andrew sighed as he took a shirt and placed it on top of the jar, hiding it away from sight. He knew he couldn't let anyone see. They might take away his only way to keep himself from turning into the Pillsbury dough boy. He put his other few things he was allowed to bring in their respective places so he could put his suitcase away. After organizing his things he left his room, walking towards the common area. He felt sick to his stomach, unnerved by the sterile white walls and the hollow feeling surrounding him. He slowly made his way through the room, getting to know his new home. Andrew eventually started to inspect the chairs, seeing if it was even worth sitting in them. He sat down in one of the bigger chairs and got comfortable, looking around.
"This isn't too bad I suppose. Big enough to offset how fat I am so people don't notice as much. I wonder if people here are nice. And not so crazy."
He looked back towards the hallway where his room resides and shook his head.
"Strange," he muttered softly as he pulled out his small sketchbook. He started drawing a thin happy version of himself. To outsiders it looked like the boy in the picture was plumper than the boy drawing it was. To Andrew the boy in the picture was much thinner; the reason for his happiness. After a while he closed his eyes, exhaustion sweeping over him and making him drift off to sleep in the large chair he sat in.
Raven sat perfectly still in her room, her eyes focused sharply on a tree outside as she clutched her small black teddy bear tightly in her hands.
"Look where you are. Look where she brought you. This is all your fault. You had to slip up. Dumbass. If you had just kept your sleeves clean you would've been fine. You would've been out there. You don't belong in here. We don't belong in here."
"Shut up. I know that. Don't think I don't know that. I know what I did wrong. I messed up I get it. Let's just make sure they don't do anything to us. As long as they don't touch Frank then it should be okay. He can protect us. He can make sure that no one will hurt us."
"Do you really think so? Everyone is out to get us R. Everyone. What if they put something in your food? What if they take Frank while we are sleeping? They probably are watching us right now, waiting for the perfect time to pounce."
She gripped Frank tighter and shifted out of the patch of sunlight, looking around the room suspiciously. She pulled the blinds shut quickly, blocking most of the sunlight before she went to search her room. The fourth time that morning, and just as thorough as every time before. She did this often. Almost like clockwork every hour, she searched her room for any signs of cameras or other things put in place to watch her every move. She hadn't been there often but she had already become quite used to her routine of making sure she and her "friends" were safe.
"Wait what is that? Is that a wire? Is it R? Is it??"
"Shut it, Jack. Let me look."
She bent down and reached under her bed, grabbing a small ladybug.
"Why didn't you watch Blackbird? Why didn't you make sure they didn't put this in here?"
"Sandy stop it. I couldn't help it. Just let me take it out. I'll flush it down the toilet and they won't ever know. It'll be okay."
Clutching Frank by his paw in her left hand, she left her room quietly, making her way to the bathroom. She kept looking around suspiciously as she went, making sure she was unnoticed. As soon as she got into the bathroom, she threw the bug in the toilet and flushed it quickly.
"There, it's gone. We are safe now. It's okay. They can't listen to us now."
She carefully set Frank onto the countertop before washing her hands thoroughly, making sure no trace of the "wiretap" was on her hands. Afterward, she grabbed Frank and walked quickly to her room, passing by an unfamiliar boy, making her uneasy.
"Who is he? Why is he here? Is he a spy?"
"Shut up Jack. You don't know that. They don't know we got rid of the wire. It's fine. He isn't out to get us. They don't know. He can't be here for that."
Raven walked into her room and shut the door, looking around her room in the same ritualistic fashion as every other time before sitting on her bed, clutching Frank against her chest.
Andrew
Andrew walked into the hall, looking around the sterile walls. As he made his way to his new room he saw a girl whispering to herself as she walked into what must be her room.
"Why did they have to bring me here? There is nothing wrong with me. I'm only fat, not crazy. I don't talk to myself. I don't hear voices in my head and I'm not going to kill myself. I'm just losing weight so I'm not so fat."
He pulled at his shirt, self-conscious as he walked into his new room, across from the girl who had passed him.
"Great now I have to live across from some psycho all because people don't see how fat I am. How do they not see all this?"
He pulled up his shirt and looked down at his stomach, seeing rolls of fat where there was only skin and bones.
"At least they let me pack my own bag. I have one of my jars. I will be okay. They can't stop be from becoming skinny. No one can."
He opened the drawer in his nightstand and gently ran his fingertips along the top of the jar. Andrew sighed as he took a shirt and placed it on top of the jar, hiding it away from sight. He knew he couldn't let anyone see. They might take away his only way to keep himself from turning into the Pillsbury dough boy. He put his other few things he was allowed to bring in their respective places so he could put his suitcase away. After organizing his things he left his room, walking towards the common area. He felt sick to his stomach, unnerved by the sterile white walls and the hollow feeling surrounding him. He slowly made his way through the room, getting to know his new home. Andrew eventually started to inspect the chairs, seeing if it was even worth sitting in them. He sat down in one of the bigger chairs and got comfortable, looking around.
"This isn't too bad I suppose. Big enough to offset how fat I am so people don't notice as much. I wonder if people here are nice. And not so crazy."
He looked back towards the hallway where his room resides and shook his head.
"Strange," he muttered softly as he pulled out his small sketchbook. He started drawing a thin happy version of himself. To outsiders it looked like the boy in the picture was plumper than the boy drawing it was. To Andrew the boy in the picture was much thinner; the reason for his happiness. After a while he closed his eyes, exhaustion sweeping over him and making him drift off to sleep in the large chair he sat in.
Setting
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Every night it is the same. Alone, walking the streets, the pavement is cold under her feet. Her hazel eyes scanned the surroundings out of habit. It was as if God had adjusted the colors of the world in the night, like it was as easy as twisting one of those old plastic dials on a TV set.
Everything was brighter than it should be; the trees were not just green but radiant virescently hues that burned themselves in Natalie's sleepy retinas. The houses were as gay as if they'd been repainted by moonlight and now stood vibrant in the golden rays that fell unfettered though the clear sky. The road that should be grey was a sleek river of black with perfect paint lines and the street-lamps were blue. But they had never been blue, not ever. Everything was so right it was wrong - really wrong. She finally chose the wiser way - to stand still under that night and wait for this nightmare to be over. She doesn't know how she knows this is a nightmare, but every time she has it, she knows that it's not reality. She takes a few deep breaths trying to make herself comfortable under the iridescent tree while she waits to wake up, though she knows it is not that simple.
In the darkness of a dream the mind will conjure up magical beasts with jaws that are home to razor teeth. They would move in an unnatural ways, maybe a limp, or be severely hunched over. Despite being aware of the dreamscape, her breathing increased rapidly and became gasps of breath. Icy hands gripped at her, and she fought back a scream. Screaming would bring people. She h a t e d people.
Pain pricked her hands and she realized quite suddenly her hands where bleeding from her nails. She looked down at her balled fists and held tight to the pain. She felt the pull of consciousness as her breathing quickened. She felt like she was a near down woman coming up for air. Light broke through the darkness that gripped her consciousness.
Natalieβs hazel orbs opened slowly though the haze of sleep. She rolled over slowly, as if testing each movement to make sure there would be no pain. She was mildly surprised she had made it through another night, another nightmare. She yawned, stretching just enough to test the temperature of the air with her toes. Acceptable she supposed.
On awakening, despite the nightmare ending, the ghastly feeling of being watched by invisible eyes prolongs her uneasy feeling. She rolled out of bed and dressed in her work out gear, a pair of simple black shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top paired with her old sketchers. She tied her long blond locks up onto a high ponytail to keep it out of her face.
Natalie took laps around the building. She never really counted how many laps, only the amount of beats her heart took. So far she had counted to 3,600. Only when the beat of her heart started to thunder in her ears, and the sweat poured down her body did she return to her room. Her shower was quick, she did not doddle in many things. She dressed in simple cloths, a long black tunic with white leggings. She applied a light layer of makeup and left her hair down. She was not here to impress anyone.
Natalie made her way down the hall to where the common area was. She found the coffee pot and set it to brew before she leaned back against the counter with a sigh. She spotted
The gold sun spilling onto the wall danced across the otherwise plain room, illuminating the figure lying sleeping on the bed. He made a soft noise as he sat up, sleep interrupted by the morning sun. He pulled his covers around him, suspiciously eyeing the room. Isaac still didn't feel... fully comfortable at BRINK, even after 2 years. The blank and cold walls of the establishment never felt as if they were forgiving, leeching warmth from the patients there. It always felt like they were watching, which he supposed they probably were, he hadn't checked for cameras in a long time. There was no chance they'd let them run riot without constant supervision. The bed shifted under his weight as he moved towards the edge, dangling his legs over the side. The room around him was oddly cleanly like no one had lived in it despite Isaac's presence there for 2 years. The only clue as to the type of person that lived there was the mountain of books piled neatly in one corner next to a beanbag.
He pulled himself to his feet, standing in front of his mirror, running a lazy hand through his hair. He examined his reflection, scrutinising himself. Everything seemed more stable today. He finally gave up trying to find an issue with the day and dragged himself for a shower begrudgingly before dressing in a rather plain grey shirt and black jeans. He usually tried not to attract too much attention but it wasn't too obvious, there was no real need to dress outrageously when everyday you saw the same people.
The sun had risen considerably since it woke him, the rays brightening the usually dim room. A quick check of his alarm clock confirmed it was probably a great idea to get breakfast. Isaac dropped to his knees on the floor, hands groping under the bed until... yes... there. He withdrew a well-loved black book, an equally well loved (and well chewed) pencil poking out of the spine. His sketchbook. It was almost done. Isaac didn't really want to think about what would happen when it was finished. He wasn't a fan of endings.
His first stop of the day was the common room, as it always was. Isaac padded down the quiet corridors, eyes tracing the pattern on the floor. He could hear the soft muffled sound of a voice off in a room, however that wasn't unusual for someone to be talking to themselves. It was understandable here, they all understood each other's illnesses.
He lowered his eyes as he entered, his fingers tightening around his sketchbook. The smell of coffee drifting throughout the hallways had alerted him to the fact that someone was there before him. He glanced up quickly to put a face to the smell. Natalie. He lowered his head again as he headed for the fruit bowl, rifling through it. He settled for an apple before grabbing a breakfast bar. It was usually wise to have a lighter breakfast at Brink, especially if you were on new meds and most of the time you were. Isaac tried to be on the safe side.
He curled himself on a seat, chewing on the breakfast bar with his sketchbook balanced on his lap. He carefully folded the wrapper, listening intently to the soft crackle as he flattened it against his sketchbook. Mornings were usually like this, relaxed and quiet. Isaac loved the repetition of everyday. It was one of the more enjoyable aspects about living in the clinic, it let him feel more attached to the world around him. When he was satisfied with his makeshift origami, he began on his apple.
He pulled himself to his feet, standing in front of his mirror, running a lazy hand through his hair. He examined his reflection, scrutinising himself. Everything seemed more stable today. He finally gave up trying to find an issue with the day and dragged himself for a shower begrudgingly before dressing in a rather plain grey shirt and black jeans. He usually tried not to attract too much attention but it wasn't too obvious, there was no real need to dress outrageously when everyday you saw the same people.
The sun had risen considerably since it woke him, the rays brightening the usually dim room. A quick check of his alarm clock confirmed it was probably a great idea to get breakfast. Isaac dropped to his knees on the floor, hands groping under the bed until... yes... there. He withdrew a well-loved black book, an equally well loved (and well chewed) pencil poking out of the spine. His sketchbook. It was almost done. Isaac didn't really want to think about what would happen when it was finished. He wasn't a fan of endings.
His first stop of the day was the common room, as it always was. Isaac padded down the quiet corridors, eyes tracing the pattern on the floor. He could hear the soft muffled sound of a voice off in a room, however that wasn't unusual for someone to be talking to themselves. It was understandable here, they all understood each other's illnesses.
He lowered his eyes as he entered, his fingers tightening around his sketchbook. The smell of coffee drifting throughout the hallways had alerted him to the fact that someone was there before him. He glanced up quickly to put a face to the smell. Natalie. He lowered his head again as he headed for the fruit bowl, rifling through it. He settled for an apple before grabbing a breakfast bar. It was usually wise to have a lighter breakfast at Brink, especially if you were on new meds and most of the time you were. Isaac tried to be on the safe side.
He curled himself on a seat, chewing on the breakfast bar with his sketchbook balanced on his lap. He carefully folded the wrapper, listening intently to the soft crackle as he flattened it against his sketchbook. Mornings were usually like this, relaxed and quiet. Isaac loved the repetition of everyday. It was one of the more enjoyable aspects about living in the clinic, it let him feel more attached to the world around him. When he was satisfied with his makeshift origami, he began on his apple.
Elias opened his eyes as the morning sun shone through the curtains, casting a gold ray into the dark room. The young man was, in sharp contrast to what was expected, not lying in bed. Instead, he was seated at the table on the other side of the room, upper body sprawled across the desk on a half played game of solitaire. Unable to sleep for fear of dreaming, Elias had played solitaire into the wee hours of the morning until, brain finally lulled by the repetitive play, he'd fallen into a doze at the table.
It was morning now. Elias blinked blearily at the oddly bare room, slowly registering it through stray locks of blonde hair that had fallen halfway across his eyes. Blowing them out of his face with a half hearted huff, Elias slowly shifted his eyes across the room until it locked onto the clock.
7am. Four hours sleep this time, Elias brain helpfully supplied, and he groaned, deep and heartfelt. With arms that felt like lead, Elias slowly pushed himself up from the table with super Herculean effort. His cheek came unstuck from the table with a small pop that sounded like stretched gum breaking, and a card stuck to his cheek stubbornly kept its hold on Elias's chin before losing grip and fluttering to the floor. With a yawn, Elias left the card on the floor and did a full body stretch like a cat, raising his arms above his head, and made his way to the bathroom.
Toothbrush, face wash, doing business which should thankfully be left vague in text. By the time Elias stepped out of the bathroom he was a lot more cleaner than when he'd stepped in and feeling a lot less like death warmed over, although still tired. With the way Elias bounded cheerfully across the room towards his closet, however, you'd never have guessed that he was running low on sleep - until the dark bags under his eyes were noticed, anyway.
Clothes! And then breakfast - Elias was starving, he hoped that there was toast. Pulling out a baggy maroon hoodie and a pair of black trousers, Elias hummed what sounded suspiciously similar to the bohemian rhapsody as he changed out of his sleepware into something more suitable for the start of the day. Gathering his cards and shuffling them neatly into a pile, Elias slid the blue pack into its plastic casing and slipped it into his pocket, before heading for the door.
Just as he was about to reach for the knob, Elias snapped his fingers. "My lighter!" He exclaimed out loud, doing an abrupt U-turn. He made for the bathroom - and a couple steps paused and patted his pockets.
Yup, it was in his pant pocket. Thank heavens - he'd thought he'd left it with his toothbrush. Chuckling a little to himself, Elias wheeled around and headed straight out of the door, making his way towards the facilities common room for breakfast.
He made it there in record time. Closing his eyes and taking in the scent of coffee, Elias slipped his hand into his pocket around the lighter, tightening his grip on it as he steeled himself. Painting a smile on his face, Elias stepped forwards and pushed opened the door. His eyes met Natalie, and Elias gave a quick wave towards her before breaking contact. Keeping close to the walls, Elias tried to push down the creeping feeling that his back was open and instead walked casually to the cupboards, pulling out a box of cereal.
Best to face the day on a full stomach, right? Within no time, Elias had a small bowl of cheerios and milk and was seated comfortably in the chair that was leaning against the wall, feet drawn up in a cross legged sprawl on the sofa. He gave a small grin and wave to Isaac (successfully ignoring the sketchbook, score 1 for himself!), a silent morning greeting, but other than that he ate his cereal alone, quietly humming a stanza of classical music under his breath.
--------
Early as it was, the streets were bustling with life, ranging from kids walking their way to school to shopkeepers opening their stores for business. Amongst them, blending into the background with a light grey sports jacket and black shorts that reached just above the knee was Zane, carrying a small bag that was slung securely behind his back as he jogged down the street, moving deftly to the side whenever a person was in front of him like a salmon swimming downstream in migrating season.
During his hypomanic periods, jogging to the facility was Zane's way of starting the day, and as this was the third day into this part of the cycle Zane saw no point in breaking it. Jogging was good exercise, and it helped to balance his blood pressure and get rid of the energy that made him itch in place and shortened his temper. It left him exhausted after, sure, but the resulting rush of endorphins and the decrease in irritation after was worth the aching muscles and tiredness.
Seeing a dark alleyway just ahead, Zane readjusted his pace and headed straight for it. A quick glance proved it empty, and Zane made an abrupt turn to the right into it, ignoring the graffitied wall as he ran alongside it. It wasn't much, but it shortened the distance by at least five minutes and shortcuts were completely worth it, even if said shortcuts were occasionally gang territory.
The alley was small, surrounding Zane on both sides with high walls that had diamond grid fences which loomed over the running boy. Heart beating a quick rhythm in his chest, Zane increased his pace as he went under a narrow bridge, path sloping unevenly downwards, and he grinned as he spotted the chain fence up ahead.
It was more than half his height. Over the other side was an abandoned office building, decaying and rusting. A more cautious person would have taken the turn to the right that lead to the bridge, but as Zane was feeling particularly reckless today, he increased his pace into a sprint -
And leapt at the fence.
There was a loud clang as the fence shook from the impact of a seventeen year old boy jumping against it like a bulldozer landing against a wall, but it remained standing. Using the holes in the diamond grid fence as handholds, Zane scaled the fence like a ninja and down to the other side, leaping down the last few inches in a fit of goodwill. Grinning at the feel of a job well done, Zane resumed his jog to the facility, making it there just in time for breakfast.
Or well, just in time to use the showers facility, anyway.
It was morning now. Elias blinked blearily at the oddly bare room, slowly registering it through stray locks of blonde hair that had fallen halfway across his eyes. Blowing them out of his face with a half hearted huff, Elias slowly shifted his eyes across the room until it locked onto the clock.
7am. Four hours sleep this time, Elias brain helpfully supplied, and he groaned, deep and heartfelt. With arms that felt like lead, Elias slowly pushed himself up from the table with super Herculean effort. His cheek came unstuck from the table with a small pop that sounded like stretched gum breaking, and a card stuck to his cheek stubbornly kept its hold on Elias's chin before losing grip and fluttering to the floor. With a yawn, Elias left the card on the floor and did a full body stretch like a cat, raising his arms above his head, and made his way to the bathroom.
Toothbrush, face wash, doing business which should thankfully be left vague in text. By the time Elias stepped out of the bathroom he was a lot more cleaner than when he'd stepped in and feeling a lot less like death warmed over, although still tired. With the way Elias bounded cheerfully across the room towards his closet, however, you'd never have guessed that he was running low on sleep - until the dark bags under his eyes were noticed, anyway.
Clothes! And then breakfast - Elias was starving, he hoped that there was toast. Pulling out a baggy maroon hoodie and a pair of black trousers, Elias hummed what sounded suspiciously similar to the bohemian rhapsody as he changed out of his sleepware into something more suitable for the start of the day. Gathering his cards and shuffling them neatly into a pile, Elias slid the blue pack into its plastic casing and slipped it into his pocket, before heading for the door.
Just as he was about to reach for the knob, Elias snapped his fingers. "My lighter!" He exclaimed out loud, doing an abrupt U-turn. He made for the bathroom - and a couple steps paused and patted his pockets.
Yup, it was in his pant pocket. Thank heavens - he'd thought he'd left it with his toothbrush. Chuckling a little to himself, Elias wheeled around and headed straight out of the door, making his way towards the facilities common room for breakfast.
He made it there in record time. Closing his eyes and taking in the scent of coffee, Elias slipped his hand into his pocket around the lighter, tightening his grip on it as he steeled himself. Painting a smile on his face, Elias stepped forwards and pushed opened the door. His eyes met Natalie, and Elias gave a quick wave towards her before breaking contact. Keeping close to the walls, Elias tried to push down the creeping feeling that his back was open and instead walked casually to the cupboards, pulling out a box of cereal.
Best to face the day on a full stomach, right? Within no time, Elias had a small bowl of cheerios and milk and was seated comfortably in the chair that was leaning against the wall, feet drawn up in a cross legged sprawl on the sofa. He gave a small grin and wave to Isaac (successfully ignoring the sketchbook, score 1 for himself!), a silent morning greeting, but other than that he ate his cereal alone, quietly humming a stanza of classical music under his breath.
--------
Early as it was, the streets were bustling with life, ranging from kids walking their way to school to shopkeepers opening their stores for business. Amongst them, blending into the background with a light grey sports jacket and black shorts that reached just above the knee was Zane, carrying a small bag that was slung securely behind his back as he jogged down the street, moving deftly to the side whenever a person was in front of him like a salmon swimming downstream in migrating season.
During his hypomanic periods, jogging to the facility was Zane's way of starting the day, and as this was the third day into this part of the cycle Zane saw no point in breaking it. Jogging was good exercise, and it helped to balance his blood pressure and get rid of the energy that made him itch in place and shortened his temper. It left him exhausted after, sure, but the resulting rush of endorphins and the decrease in irritation after was worth the aching muscles and tiredness.
Seeing a dark alleyway just ahead, Zane readjusted his pace and headed straight for it. A quick glance proved it empty, and Zane made an abrupt turn to the right into it, ignoring the graffitied wall as he ran alongside it. It wasn't much, but it shortened the distance by at least five minutes and shortcuts were completely worth it, even if said shortcuts were occasionally gang territory.
The alley was small, surrounding Zane on both sides with high walls that had diamond grid fences which loomed over the running boy. Heart beating a quick rhythm in his chest, Zane increased his pace as he went under a narrow bridge, path sloping unevenly downwards, and he grinned as he spotted the chain fence up ahead.
It was more than half his height. Over the other side was an abandoned office building, decaying and rusting. A more cautious person would have taken the turn to the right that lead to the bridge, but as Zane was feeling particularly reckless today, he increased his pace into a sprint -
And leapt at the fence.
There was a loud clang as the fence shook from the impact of a seventeen year old boy jumping against it like a bulldozer landing against a wall, but it remained standing. Using the holes in the diamond grid fence as handholds, Zane scaled the fence like a ninja and down to the other side, leaping down the last few inches in a fit of goodwill. Grinning at the feel of a job well done, Zane resumed his jog to the facility, making it there just in time for breakfast.
Or well, just in time to use the showers facility, anyway.
Chevelle laid in her bed watching as the clouds grew with color as the sun rose. She had been up for a couple hours waiting till she could be free from her room. The last time Scarlet snuck them out and wandered the halls till Primrose came and started crying. It turned real ugly real fast, but she guessed it was fun while it lasted. They did get to see a part of the place that they hadn't seen before. It never really bothered Chevelle when Scarlet would take the spot, but it did make her cringe from time to time. Like when they would get in trouble or when she would start flirting with Mr. Stalle. It always made her blush and Primrose couldn't stop giggling. In all honesty, Mr. Stalle was cute, it just... he was so out of their league.
She moaned thinking about all the times Scarlet had flirted with him. He just seemed so nice about it. "Someone has a crush." Thought Scarlet. She could hear Primrose giggling in the back. Chevelle's cheeks flushed a soft red. "I do not, it is just embarrassing when you just flirt with him. It is clear he is way too good for us, plus we are in a crazy house. Don't you think he might pity us more than like us? I mean...even I pity myself. I have to live with both of YOU in my head."
"Hey that's not nice, Velle! I am not a bad person." Thought Primrose. Chevelle could see her pouting in the corner.
"Rude much? I am a great person to be around. Hell, I am even the life of the party!" Thought Scarlet, laughing. Chevelle rolled her eyes, tossing and turning in her bed. They had finally gotten a full night's worth of rest. Scarlet finally let her take their medicine. It usually started to take effect once they was finished their bedtime routine. Once their head hit the pillow they were out.
Chevelle stopped moving once she heard the key to their room turn and unlock the door. "Time to get dressed." She said as she got up and stretched.
"Please don't put that sweater today. We always get hot with it on and if we take it off then we have to take care of it. The last time I forgot it you about freaked." Primrose begged.
"Look, once it is your turn you can ask one of the staff to bring you to the room so you can put it up. It is simple. I get cold, what am I suppose to do? Freeze?" Chevelle slide her pale pink sweater on. Primrose and Scarlet sighed together. Chevelle shook her head, checking herself in the mirror and making sure everything looked perfect before heading out the door.
She ran her fingertips along the wall as she walked. The feel of the bumps under her fingers made them go numb and tickle. She smiled at the feeling. The smell of coffee had made its way down the hall, Chevelle would never drink it when it was made, but she did like the smell.
It didn't take her long to get to the common area and there were people already there. She smiled at those who looked up at her and continued her way to the food. She got herself some orange juice and a breakfast bar before going sit by the window. The rays were warm and she took enjoyed every moment of it. A few seconds of sunbathing and Chevelle began to slowly eat. Something was better than nothing. She had a feeling that tests were going to be done and Scarlet would be the one to come out. She always came out when tests were done or when things became a little to difficult for her or Primrose, but she also felt that because Scarlet always came out at these times the test would never stop.
Chevelle shook the thoughts away and watched the world outside live on like she was never there.
/////////////////////////////////
The air is thick with the scent of coffee. Caffeine - yesterdayβs drug of choice. Natalie needed her caffeine fix. Nat sips and analyzes, her favorite activity by far. First enters Isaac, he meets her eyes for only a moment before stealing off to a far corner to eat his food. Elias is next, he waves to her before shuffling himself across the room to get food. Finally enters Chevelle, she finds her way to the window seat. She sipped her coffee quietly, and hummed happily at the warm flavor that washed over her tongue.
Sunlight flashed through the window, glancing off her icy blue eyes. Memories flooded her, washing her away from reality. Natalie felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Tension grew in her face and limbs, her mind replaying the last attack. Her breathing became more rapid, more shallow. Nat knew tensing against the shaking of her limbs is useless but she does it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments what she knows she cannot. She needs to drink in the silence, to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf her.
In these moments before her personal hurricane, she understood the drug addict, the alcoholic... anything to stop the primal surge to flee. Her eyes glued to the mug on the counter next to her white knuckles.
It wasn't beautiful or elegant, it wasn't expensive, it had no sentimental value, and yet for a moment she reached out to touch the mug as if it was her most valuable item. She anchored herself to reality with the feel of the warm ceramic against her palms. The coffee lapped over the dark edge of the cup as her hands shook around it. Everyone in the room became nothing more than a distant roar. Her thoughts accelerated and she gripped the counter.
βThis is not then. Be a Gryffindor Natalieβ She whispered to herself.
βThis is not thenβ She said quietly and yet with more force.
Her breathing slowed as she focused on the world around her. The darkness that had edged at her vision started to recede. The silence caressed her skin like a cool summer breeze, smoothing her soul, taking away her jagged edges. Reality slowly started washing in. She glanced around and hoped no one had seen her break, after all, she had to protect her reputation.
βAnxiety is overestimating the problem and underestimating my ability to deal with it.β She muttered as she poured more coffee.
γZane Yeoγ and γElias Stigssonγ
///////////////////////////////////////////////
Elias was just finishing his cereal when the door opened. Zane walked in without a thought, footsteps loud in the relative quiet of the room. Fresh from the shower, he was dressed in a black shirt and light blue jeans with a small white towel draped around his shoulders, hair a mess of damp black strands that clumped together and smelled of the clean disinfectant soap that the facilities normally carried.
"Morning," he said to everyone. Reaching out to the fruit bowl, he grabbed an apple, masticating on it with great relish. The run from earlier had left a gaping hole in Zane's stomach that he needed to fill with food, and fruit served as a good way to replenish his energy - simple sugars and filling to boot. He leant against the counter besides Natalie, one elbow resting carelessly against the edge. "Wha'sh sup?" he asked through a mouthful of apple.
Elias smiled from where he sat, lips forming a gentle curve as he held onto the bowl. "What?" He asked teasingly. "Sorry Zane, can't hear what you're saying."
"Mmgh." Zane swallowed the huge lump of masticated apple, shooting a dirty look at Elias. "You know what I mean," he said, scowling, but his tone wasn't heated and there was a thoughtful tilt to his scowl. "And I'm definitely going to win today's round of blackjack - you might have won yesterday's round, but that doesn't mean you'll be winning today."
"Haha, sure!" Elias laughed easily from where he sat, hand slipping into the pocket where his deck of cards were. Yesterday's game had been pretty fun - people had joined in for over an hour, at least before lights out anyways. He grinned at Zane, eyes carefully looking at his shoulder. "I'm ready any day - anyone else want in? It'll have to take place later, though - after the medication."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Zane shrugged and turned away, snagging a banana this time. "So, what's up? And who here thinks they're gonna get us started on new medications again this time?"
///////////////////////////////////////////////
Elias was just finishing his cereal when the door opened. Zane walked in without a thought, footsteps loud in the relative quiet of the room. Fresh from the shower, he was dressed in a black shirt and light blue jeans with a small white towel draped around his shoulders, hair a mess of damp black strands that clumped together and smelled of the clean disinfectant soap that the facilities normally carried.
"Morning," he said to everyone. Reaching out to the fruit bowl, he grabbed an apple, masticating on it with great relish. The run from earlier had left a gaping hole in Zane's stomach that he needed to fill with food, and fruit served as a good way to replenish his energy - simple sugars and filling to boot. He leant against the counter besides Natalie, one elbow resting carelessly against the edge. "Wha'sh sup?" he asked through a mouthful of apple.
Elias smiled from where he sat, lips forming a gentle curve as he held onto the bowl. "What?" He asked teasingly. "Sorry Zane, can't hear what you're saying."
"Mmgh." Zane swallowed the huge lump of masticated apple, shooting a dirty look at Elias. "You know what I mean," he said, scowling, but his tone wasn't heated and there was a thoughtful tilt to his scowl. "And I'm definitely going to win today's round of blackjack - you might have won yesterday's round, but that doesn't mean you'll be winning today."
"Haha, sure!" Elias laughed easily from where he sat, hand slipping into the pocket where his deck of cards were. Yesterday's game had been pretty fun - people had joined in for over an hour, at least before lights out anyways. He grinned at Zane, eyes carefully looking at his shoulder. "I'm ready any day - anyone else want in? It'll have to take place later, though - after the medication."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Zane shrugged and turned away, snagging a banana this time. "So, what's up? And who here thinks they're gonna get us started on new medications again this time?"
The appearance of Elias wasn't much of an intrusion on Isaac's little bubble. He was one of the people who accepted that Isaac probably didn't want to be involved in much of the socialising. Isaac raised his head enough to catch sight of the wave sent his way. He begrudgingly waved back, managing to force a small smile. He wasn't trying to seem impolite, especially when he liked the company of Elias if he was in the mood to talk or interested in a game of cards.
Isaac didn't dislike anyone who turned up at Brink particularly. He had a mild dislike for some staff members, but the resentment he had buried for them hadn't really surfaced in many months. He liked Natalie as well, he decided as he crunched on his apple. She was logical and didn't let much get in the way of that and if he needed to borrow a book, she probably had it.
He finally gave up on his apple, standing up to toss the core in the bin. He tucked his sketchbook under his arm. He threw the core away before heading towards the counter. He opened his sketchbook to the next empty page, printing the date neatly at the top.
'Breakfast: Breakfast Bar and Apple. Nat already present. Made coffee. Chevelle came in shortly after me, had a breakfast bar and OJ. Elias prompt, got cereal.'
His running commentary was interrupted by the opening of the door. Zane strode in, his footsteps echoing around Isaac's head. He groaned and looked up, his peace shattered. He was still manic judging by the slight reddening of his cheeks, he had been for the past couple of days. Isaac had gathered that he had been running to and from the facility. He had noted the fact in his sketchbook a few times in the past days.
Grabbing an apple he gave them all a customary welcome before biting into it with relish. Isaac noted the observation down before starting to doodle. He liked to balance out the writing with drawings, usually quick sketches of the other patients but sometimes his family and more often his snake. He swirled his pencil around the breakfast data creating a familiar eyebrow he labelled deftly as "NATALIE". He knew everyone around's facial features better than he new his own reflection most days. It was grounding knowing that there were other people just meters away from him that were actually real and there.
He was drawn out of his little world by an offer from Elias. "I'm ready any day - anyone else want in? It'll have to take place later, though - after the medication."
He frowned, trying to link it to a sentence before hand he'd only half caught. Zane had suggested Blackjack, that'll be it. "I'm in for blackjack" he muttered, breaking his silence "I could do with a good game" he finished. He shut his sketchbook with a snap, lodging his pencil back in the spine. He was going to push himself to actually talk to people today.
"So, what's up? And who here thinks they're gonna get us started on new medications again this time?"
"Knowing how everyone seems settled this morning, i reckon we'll all be on new ones... everything is too quiet" Isaac shrugged, tucking the sketchbook back under his arm "well either that or Stalle has abandoned all efforts to fix us up" He added with a slight apprehensive look towards to door as if even the name of the director would summon him.
Isaac didn't dislike anyone who turned up at Brink particularly. He had a mild dislike for some staff members, but the resentment he had buried for them hadn't really surfaced in many months. He liked Natalie as well, he decided as he crunched on his apple. She was logical and didn't let much get in the way of that and if he needed to borrow a book, she probably had it.
He finally gave up on his apple, standing up to toss the core in the bin. He tucked his sketchbook under his arm. He threw the core away before heading towards the counter. He opened his sketchbook to the next empty page, printing the date neatly at the top.
'Breakfast: Breakfast Bar and Apple. Nat already present. Made coffee. Chevelle came in shortly after me, had a breakfast bar and OJ. Elias prompt, got cereal.'
His running commentary was interrupted by the opening of the door. Zane strode in, his footsteps echoing around Isaac's head. He groaned and looked up, his peace shattered. He was still manic judging by the slight reddening of his cheeks, he had been for the past couple of days. Isaac had gathered that he had been running to and from the facility. He had noted the fact in his sketchbook a few times in the past days.
Grabbing an apple he gave them all a customary welcome before biting into it with relish. Isaac noted the observation down before starting to doodle. He liked to balance out the writing with drawings, usually quick sketches of the other patients but sometimes his family and more often his snake. He swirled his pencil around the breakfast data creating a familiar eyebrow he labelled deftly as "NATALIE". He knew everyone around's facial features better than he new his own reflection most days. It was grounding knowing that there were other people just meters away from him that were actually real and there.
He was drawn out of his little world by an offer from Elias. "I'm ready any day - anyone else want in? It'll have to take place later, though - after the medication."
He frowned, trying to link it to a sentence before hand he'd only half caught. Zane had suggested Blackjack, that'll be it. "I'm in for blackjack" he muttered, breaking his silence "I could do with a good game" he finished. He shut his sketchbook with a snap, lodging his pencil back in the spine. He was going to push himself to actually talk to people today.
"So, what's up? And who here thinks they're gonna get us started on new medications again this time?"
"Knowing how everyone seems settled this morning, i reckon we'll all be on new ones... everything is too quiet" Isaac shrugged, tucking the sketchbook back under his arm "well either that or Stalle has abandoned all efforts to fix us up" He added with a slight apprehensive look towards to door as if even the name of the director would summon him.
γNatalie James Bexleyγ
/////////////////////////////////
Natalie watched the banter between the two men in front of her with some amusement. She loved watching people, especially people like herself. She found peoples actions and the thought process behind their actions intriguing. She plastered an amiable smile on her face. The corners of her lips fought to fall down and the reveal her true self. But she couldn't let that happen, not after realizing that this is what everybody wanted - a woman who would always be happy and playful, not someone who still carried the ghost of her past and didn't even know how to smile for real. She had figured out how to act playful, and had been carrying out the 'happy girl' role pretty well so far.
"I'm ready any day - anyone else want in? It'll have to take place later, though - after the medication." Elias said. Black Jack. Her first thought was, of course, noβ¦but she knew she needed to spend more time with people, or so thatβs what she had been told repeatedly by the doctors here.
"I'm in for blackjack I could do with a good game"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what's up? And who here thinks they're gonna get us started on new medications again this time?" Zane said.
βBlack Jack sounds fun, I mean, if you think you have what it takes to play with the big dogs?β Natalie said as she smiled playfully at the boys over the rim of her cup.
βKnowing how everyone seems settled this morning, I reckon we'll all be on new ones... everything is too quiet, well either that or Stalle has abandoned all efforts to fix us up" Isaac said. Natalie laughed, sweet and soft, like the sound of tinkling bells. This surprised even herself and she looked away with some embarrassment.
βOne can only hope.β She said wryly as she poured the small remainder of her coffee down the drain and washed her cup.
"I doubt we are lucky enough to be free of Stalle that easily." She joked as she placed the cup back in its rightful location before turning to face the group.
"In the mean time, how is everyone?" Natalie asked earnestly. Though the group wasn't particularly close, she felt almost obligated to keep an eye on each of them. It was a peculiar feeling she had yet to master. Nat let her eyes drift around the group, person to person, sensing their response to her question, while she waited patiently for anyone to answer.
Natalie laughed. The sound was out of place in the usually quiet surroundings. It was a welcome laugh though, it didn't get on his nerves really. βOne can only hope.β Natalie joked. God if only. He did like Stalle as a person, he just didn't like the often accompanying meds and therapy sessions or staff members who treated them like guinea pigs. Sure, they were taking possibly unsafe medication, but they were still mostly human.
Isaac returned to his spot on the chair, opening his book to start another pair of eyes. Elias's this time, his eyes were slightly scrunched in the way that they did when he smiled. He didn't have a photographic memory but eyes always stood out to him. "The windows to the soul" His dad always said when he had found another date online. They all had such honest eyes to his father. Isaac winced. Looks were deceiving, he above all knew that, and eyes can be easily tricked. The thought made his stomach churn. He stilled his pencil for a moment, shaking off the sick feeling creeping up his throat.
He scolded himself internally. He was drawing eyes, like always, not creating a running commentary on his life. He returned to his drawing. Maybe it was just a little brain hiccup, that happened some times, he had hoped that it would be a steady day today.
"In the mean time, how is everyone?" Natalie was trying to make conversation he noted internally, trying to word out and appropriate response. He needed to learn to talk to people properly, none of this hiding himself away and only letting one of the doctors talk to him.
"Could be better, but then again couldn't we all?" He muttered softly to himself. He almost made himself laugh. He decided he should probably note his attempts at interacting with the people around him. It was probably a bit too obsessive to note though, he'd mention it at his next evaluation though if they asked about his interaction. It probably wouldn't help his case to become an outpatient if he gave an exact time and date. Maybe if Stalle or someone just saw him trying to talk.
He placed his pencil down gently and closed his eyes. As soon as the medication was handed out maybe he would avoid blackjack and retreat to his room like an injured animal. Socialising took it out of him. He'd be better reading or... no, he had to do it. He'd been told quite explicitly to talk to the others.
Isaac returned to his spot on the chair, opening his book to start another pair of eyes. Elias's this time, his eyes were slightly scrunched in the way that they did when he smiled. He didn't have a photographic memory but eyes always stood out to him. "The windows to the soul" His dad always said when he had found another date online. They all had such honest eyes to his father. Isaac winced. Looks were deceiving, he above all knew that, and eyes can be easily tricked. The thought made his stomach churn. He stilled his pencil for a moment, shaking off the sick feeling creeping up his throat.
He scolded himself internally. He was drawing eyes, like always, not creating a running commentary on his life. He returned to his drawing. Maybe it was just a little brain hiccup, that happened some times, he had hoped that it would be a steady day today.
"In the mean time, how is everyone?" Natalie was trying to make conversation he noted internally, trying to word out and appropriate response. He needed to learn to talk to people properly, none of this hiding himself away and only letting one of the doctors talk to him.
"Could be better, but then again couldn't we all?" He muttered softly to himself. He almost made himself laugh. He decided he should probably note his attempts at interacting with the people around him. It was probably a bit too obsessive to note though, he'd mention it at his next evaluation though if they asked about his interaction. It probably wouldn't help his case to become an outpatient if he gave an exact time and date. Maybe if Stalle or someone just saw him trying to talk.
He placed his pencil down gently and closed his eyes. As soon as the medication was handed out maybe he would avoid blackjack and retreat to his room like an injured animal. Socialising took it out of him. He'd be better reading or... no, he had to do it. He'd been told quite explicitly to talk to the others.
Andrew
Andrew woke up with a start and looked around, his eyes opening widely in surprise as the common room, once empty and quiet, was full of strangers to him. He pulled at his shirt anxiously as he became more and more self-conscious about his size, noticing how many guys were in the room.
As he looked down at himself, he noticed his sketchbook lying open on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up and hide it behind him on the oversized chair. He looked around nervously, hoping no one saw it, and sucked in his tiny stomach, his shirt just barely hiding the cave of his abdomen.
As he tensed his muscles his stomach growled loudly in protest, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since 5 o'clock the night before.
"Dammit. Stupid stomach always betraying me. In front of strangers no less. I swear if I have to eat more than one SMALL apple I will lose it."
As he thought a scowl had spread across his face, but soon after he realized it he forced a bright smile to his face.
"Hi everyone. My name is Andrew. I assume you all are patients? Oh and sorry for being asleep on arrival."
He laughed at his joke and scratched the back of his head nervously, doubting anyone would get, let alone appreciate his slightly morbid joke. His attention was quickly drawn away from the others after seeing a familiar face walk into the room. The girl he had seen earlier had walked into the room, her eyes shifting around suspiciously and she had that bear she was talking to earlier clutched in her left hand. He watched her curiously as she scanned the fruit bowl, eventually grabbing a plum. She went to the sink and set the bear on the counter before washing the plum. As he sat back down in his chair, he watched as steam started to swirl around the water. His expression grew more confused and curious as she finally took the plum out of the water and started wiping it down with her shirt.
βWell at least I wonβt be without entertainment here.β
Raven
Raven sat up again, having calmed from earlier. Her stomach growled and she stood, grabbing Frank. βWell, Frank, Now seems as good a time as any for food right?β As she asked her bear that question, she reached out to open the door.
Right as her fingers brushed the door, she heard a voice. βWait! I heard people out there. What if they are trying to poison you?β
She sighed and shook her head. βIβll tell ya what. I will thoroughly wash my food. Like I always do.β The voice grumbled in acceptance and she smirked. βThatβs what I thought. I know how to protect us. Didnβt you see how I handled that wire earlier? I know what I am doing. You donβt have to remind me.β She walked out of the door and down the hallway, Frank dangling from her hand by his paw. As she reached the common room she looked around suspiciously, making sure to catch any threats. Her stomach growled again and she walked to the counter to pick out her breakfast. As she analyzed the bowl of fruit the plum kept catching her eyes and eventually, she settled on it. She picked up the big plum and took it to the sink, setting Frank onto the counter.
She turned on the water and started washing the plum the voice spoke up again. βIβm telling you blackbird they are trying to kill you. Make sure that thing is squeaky clean before you so much as smell it.β
Raven scoffed and murmured softly, βI knoooow. Donβt confuse me with an idiot. I told you I know what I am doing.β She turned up the heat and kept washing it before she was certain it was clean. By then the water had mildly burned her hands but she brushed it off, knowing it was of her own doing and for her own good. She carefully wiped off the water on the end of her shirt before picking Frank back up and walking across the room. She stood by the window and looked out as she took a bite of the plum, ignoring the chatter amongst the others.
Andrew woke up with a start and looked around, his eyes opening widely in surprise as the common room, once empty and quiet, was full of strangers to him. He pulled at his shirt anxiously as he became more and more self-conscious about his size, noticing how many guys were in the room.
As he looked down at himself, he noticed his sketchbook lying open on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up and hide it behind him on the oversized chair. He looked around nervously, hoping no one saw it, and sucked in his tiny stomach, his shirt just barely hiding the cave of his abdomen.
As he tensed his muscles his stomach growled loudly in protest, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since 5 o'clock the night before.
"Dammit. Stupid stomach always betraying me. In front of strangers no less. I swear if I have to eat more than one SMALL apple I will lose it."
As he thought a scowl had spread across his face, but soon after he realized it he forced a bright smile to his face.
"Hi everyone. My name is Andrew. I assume you all are patients? Oh and sorry for being asleep on arrival."
He laughed at his joke and scratched the back of his head nervously, doubting anyone would get, let alone appreciate his slightly morbid joke. His attention was quickly drawn away from the others after seeing a familiar face walk into the room. The girl he had seen earlier had walked into the room, her eyes shifting around suspiciously and she had that bear she was talking to earlier clutched in her left hand. He watched her curiously as she scanned the fruit bowl, eventually grabbing a plum. She went to the sink and set the bear on the counter before washing the plum. As he sat back down in his chair, he watched as steam started to swirl around the water. His expression grew more confused and curious as she finally took the plum out of the water and started wiping it down with her shirt.
βWell at least I wonβt be without entertainment here.β
Raven
Raven sat up again, having calmed from earlier. Her stomach growled and she stood, grabbing Frank. βWell, Frank, Now seems as good a time as any for food right?β As she asked her bear that question, she reached out to open the door.
Right as her fingers brushed the door, she heard a voice. βWait! I heard people out there. What if they are trying to poison you?β
She sighed and shook her head. βIβll tell ya what. I will thoroughly wash my food. Like I always do.β The voice grumbled in acceptance and she smirked. βThatβs what I thought. I know how to protect us. Didnβt you see how I handled that wire earlier? I know what I am doing. You donβt have to remind me.β She walked out of the door and down the hallway, Frank dangling from her hand by his paw. As she reached the common room she looked around suspiciously, making sure to catch any threats. Her stomach growled again and she walked to the counter to pick out her breakfast. As she analyzed the bowl of fruit the plum kept catching her eyes and eventually, she settled on it. She picked up the big plum and took it to the sink, setting Frank onto the counter.
She turned on the water and started washing the plum the voice spoke up again. βIβm telling you blackbird they are trying to kill you. Make sure that thing is squeaky clean before you so much as smell it.β
Raven scoffed and murmured softly, βI knoooow. Donβt confuse me with an idiot. I told you I know what I am doing.β She turned up the heat and kept washing it before she was certain it was clean. By then the water had mildly burned her hands but she brushed it off, knowing it was of her own doing and for her own good. She carefully wiped off the water on the end of her shirt before picking Frank back up and walking across the room. She stood by the window and looked out as she took a bite of the plum, ignoring the chatter amongst the others.
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In case you are worried about this roleplay, Lexi and I have decided to completely reboot the rp. If you would like to join, and are still interested in the story and characters then join us there!
https://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/shared-delusions-reboot
https://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/shared-delusions-reboot
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View All » Add Character » 14 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Andrew Smith
"Why would anyone want to be around someone as fat as me?"
Zane Yeo
"Get lost before I make you."
Elias Stigsson
"Look, a man in a tree - psyche!"
Natalie James Bexley
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me"
Chevelle Vivian Moore
βI simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself.β β Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Raven Anderson
"Frank keeps me safe. If Frank isn't with me, people might kill me." (Frank is her stuffed bear)
Isaac Abramovicz
"I don't feel real anymore"
Tobi Kofuku
"Give me coffee, and you'll never see me fall behind in paperwork."
Felton Deckard
"With everyone so focused on testing, they forget that these people are humans, just like us."
Dimitri White
"I have greater plans than simply this."
Trending
Andrew Smith
"Why would anyone want to be around someone as fat as me?"
Dimitri White
"I have greater plans than simply this."
Isaac Abramovicz
"I don't feel real anymore"
Tobi Kofuku
"Give me coffee, and you'll never see me fall behind in paperwork."
Zane Yeo
"Get lost before I make you."
Raven Anderson
"Frank keeps me safe. If Frank isn't with me, people might kill me." (Frank is her stuffed bear)
Natalie James Bexley
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me"
Elias Stigsson
"Look, a man in a tree - psyche!"
Felton Deckard
"With everyone so focused on testing, they forget that these people are humans, just like us."
Chevelle Vivian Moore
βI simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself.β β Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Most Followed
Natalie James Bexley
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me"
Felton Deckard
"With everyone so focused on testing, they forget that these people are humans, just like us."
Zane Yeo
"Get lost before I make you."
Isaac Abramovicz
"I don't feel real anymore"
Raven Anderson
"Frank keeps me safe. If Frank isn't with me, people might kill me." (Frank is her stuffed bear)
Chevelle Vivian Moore
βI simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself.β β Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Dimitri White
"I have greater plans than simply this."
Andrew Smith
"Why would anyone want to be around someone as fat as me?"
Elias Stigsson
"Look, a man in a tree - psyche!"
Tobi Kofuku
"Give me coffee, and you'll never see me fall behind in paperwork."
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13 posts · 12 characters present · last post 2017-08-14 04:45:04 »
The calm, yet cold building that the patients know all too well.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Shared Delusions: Out of Character
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Shared Delusions ~ Main OOC
1, 2, 3by Klockwork0reo on Sat May 27, 2017 3:21 pm
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- Last post by Klockwork0reo
on Sun Aug 13, 2017 11:43 pm
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Shared Delusions ~ Main OOC
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