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Dr. Addi O'Neil

"What a nice day, don't you think?"

0 · 257 views · located in Tearmainn for the Mad

a character in “This Animal I Have Become”, as played by HypeR


NAME: Addi O'Niel
AGE: 50
DESCRIPTION: Caucasian, Brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9 inches tall, weighs 201 pounds, ageing spots, wrinkles, no tattoos, no unusual scars,
PERSONALITY: Kind, doesn't pressure people, no temper, patience,
HISTORY: Ever since Cara was a child, he wanted to help people. His own mother was put into an asylum because of psychological disorders. She was never diagnosed and just labeled as insane then locked away until death. From that point, Cara made it his job to help people and he went to college for a psychology degree and doctorate. He then got a job at Tearmiann as the psychologist.
FAVORITE PATIENTS: Doesn't pick favorites
LEAST FAVORITE PATIENTS: Doesn't pick least favorites
OTHER: Wears glasses. Looks at every patient as a child.

So begins...

Dr. Addi O'Neil's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zak Ciaran Character Portrait: Madelyn Rayburn Character Portrait: Damian Mason Character Portrait: Rosie Clark Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil Character Portrait: Harlan Sheridan Character Portrait: Arrow McBeth Character Portrait: Tristan Kenin
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#, as written by HypeR
Dr. Addi O'Neil

I walk into Tearmainn and I am greeted by a nurse. "Hello and welcome to Tearmainn Dr. O'Neil. Would you like a brief description of each patient, Doctor?" I nod my head with a faint smile as I walk with the nurse and she describes each patient.

"Patient number 100, Zak Ciaran, 19 years of age, suffers from Schizophrenia, danger to mostly himself, slightly paranoid, small case of SPD, fragrant smoker, curses a lot, antisocial, OCD, and slight speech impediment. Had him on record for about three years now."

"Patient number 101, Madelyn Rayburn, 19 years of age, suffers from severe paranoia, possibly dangerous to herself and others, avid addiction to smoking, occasional drinking, rarely occurring episodes, can have delusions. Has been here about a year now."

"Patient number 102, Damian Mason, 23 years of age, suffers from Hematolagnia, danger to others. He hasn't been here too long so we don't have much on him."

"Patient number 103, Rosie Clark, 18 years of age, suffers from serve MPD, three personalities as of date being 'Rosie' 'Kelly' and 'Julie', does not know of the 'others', slight danger to others depending on who's 'out', raped as child by father, mother disappeared. She has been here about a year or two now."

"Patient number 104, Harlan Sheridan, 21 years of age, suffers from sociopathy, danger to others emotions, needs constant mental simulation. He's really twisty, he has been here for about 6 months or so."

"Patient number 105, Arrow McBeth, 17 years of age, suffers from server depression, socially awkward, anxious, lack of emotion, danger to herself. Hasn't been here too long."

"Patient number 106, Tristan Kenin, 19 years of age, suffers from psychopathy, lacks understanding of emotion, has no feeling emotion wise, not much of danger, slight danger to others in the lack of emotion wise. Hasn't been here too long."

Seven patients I have to talk to. Seven patients I have to help. Seven patients all with different problems who grew up in different circumstances. "I'm ready to start talking." I say to the nurse. "Start sending each patient one by one in order to my office so I may introduce myself." The nurse looks at me strangly and I walk in my office as she head down to the recreation room to get the first patient.


The Recreational Room, the place where all the patients in this damn MadHouse can come and interact. Hardly any interacting every happens because everyone's so damn antisocial. You're the antisocial one, Zak. Then there's those fucking voice. They calm down after the nurse give me those pills in the morning, but they still keep talking.
In the Recreational Room, everything is clean and neat. There's a carpet so people can't smash each others faces into the ground. There's couches in front of a TV that's locked in a bullet proof plastic box that's bolted to the floor so no one can smash there head in the TV to kill themselves. There's a coffee maker and a kettle for tea that both stop heating so no one can kill themselves by pouring boiling water on their head. And the only eating utensil they give us is a plastic spoon. Not a spork, a spoon! A fucking spoon! Have you ever tried eating steak with a spoon? Well it's fucking hard!
I sit at the round table in the recreational room next to the window and I watch every body and listen to the voices in my head. No body likes you...Kill them all...hurt yourself and leave...Kill! Die! Hurt! They just don't stop. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump then look up to see a nurse. "Dr. O'Neil would like to meet you." I know the deal, so I stand up and follow the nurse into some old guys office. The old guy was little and had glasses that made his eyes look big. Ahhhh! The voices scream instead of talk sometimes to just get on my nerves and make me go crazy. The nurse sits me down in the chair in front of the doctors cluttered desk.
"Hello, Zak, I'm Dr. Addi O'Neil. I'm the new psychologist and I'm here to tell you that we are dropping your medication." The Doc says with a smile on his face. At this the voices scream louder.
"Dropping the medication? Why? We can't drop the medication. I need it." I say as I shift around in the chair trying to get comfortable and ignore the screams.
"Yes, Zak. I don't believe in medication. The only thing to help is to talk, do you understand?" The Doc said calmly.
"Yeah, Doc, I understand perfectly well that you're a fucking idiot!" At the sound of my yelling, the nurse comes in and walks me back to the recreational room and gets the next patient.

Make sure in your first post you include going to see Dr. Addi O'Neil and talk about the dropping of every ones medication

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil Character Portrait: Tristan Kenin
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#, as written by Luflice
A room to interact. He would laugh if he found any mirth in it, but instead he just smirked from where he was sitting in the corner, staring out of the window, while glancing at the other patients now and then. Of course those weren't real windows, it was something more, they couldn't get too close, they couldn't break them ,he doubted they were even made out of real glass.

Those were the things you think about when you are locked up here day for day as if you are some real mental case. Some babbling idiot, and that was far from what he was. Playing with the hem of his long shirt, he leaned back in the seat until his head was dangling from the back and he saw everything upside down.

They were all so boring, boring and half of them disgusting. Pathetic. Half of them were supposed to be dangerous, but he had barely seen any sign of it, boring, so boring. Day for day he waited for the outbursts of emotions, waited for something to stare at, study, take apart so that he might integrate it within him, copy it until it almost felt real. That should have been the good thing about living here, but it never functioned.

Just as he wanted to continue along those lines which would eventually end up in him convincing himself of his superiority, there was the clearing of a throat and he slowly turned his head sideways, still upside down which really gave him an interesting angle to look at things, and saw the nurse looking at him expectantly. " Dr. Neil would like to meet you. " She said and sent him one of those stern looks that were supposed to be intimidating, but really just made him snort.

Slowly he unfolded himself out of the seat, straightening his clothes before he nodded at her, starting to walk. They wouldn't let you walk behind them, as if you would suddenly grow dagger-like nails and slice them open. Without commenting on it or any of the other thoughts that ran through his head, he stepped into the room and let himself be lead over to the seat, crouching down in it and quickly pulling his legs up, putting more weight on them then on his behind, looking at the doctor with wide eyes.

There was something about the other man that irked him, nothing like real dislike, it was still hard to feel anything like that, and he was not as pathetic as others, so the usual disgust kept itself at bay. But something in him just sneered at the man. The boy kept still though, he was not really violent, you needed to be angry for that. Or upset. Touched by any kind of emotion. " Doctor. " He just greeted neutrally, watching him with closely.

" Hello Tristan, I'm Dr. Addi O'Neil. I'm the new psychologist and I'm here to tell you that we are dropping your medication." The man said slowly, hands placed on the desk in what probably was meant to be a non-threatening gesture. Tristan blinked once, blinked twice. Then just nodded his head. " Tasted horrible anyways. " He just mumbled and shifted lightly, moving his toes in different directions, he was bored again. " May I leave then, Doctor? "

" The only thing that can help you is talking, Tristan. " The Doctor said instead of an answer, and the blond looked up again, wanting to shrug his shoulders, but instead just stared at the man. Talking, really. Tristan liked talking, but not the talking the Doctors like to do.

After no word left his lips for a long while, the Doctor just let out a soft sigh and nodded to the nurse that had been waiting at the door. " I will lead you back to the main room. " She said as she came up to the boy, almost man, and gestured for him to move. Taking a last look around the office, Tristan moved from the chair slowly and nodded, leaving the room just in the same state as he had entered it. The medication had never done anything for him anyways besides making him feel drowsy and giving him concentration problems now and then.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Damian Mason Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil
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“Patient number 102, Damian Mason, 23 years of age, suffers from Hematolagnia, danger to others. He hasn't been here too long so we don't have much on him.”

Upon being introduced, dark green eyes looked up from his book to the new member of staff; he knew he wasn’t a patient as he was far too old and dressed all fancy like to be. His head tilted to the side, regarding him with a cold gaze as his attention went from patient to patient.

All of them sat quietly by themselves in the recreational room. To his disappointment, all of them were unharmed as they had been locked up in their padded cells with jackets on which made you hug yourself. Those were the dangerous and violent ones, the ones who tended to make themselves bleed. Just the thought made his fingers twitch. Last week Arrow had been dragged out of her cell and taken to the nurse because she managed to injure herself quite badly. Luckily Damian had a glance at the bleeding wounds on her arms and damn was that hot.

His hungry green eyes looked over to the self-harmer and he flashed a sadistic smile. He could pick out the scars on her arm and body and just imagined the damage what would have been done and the amount of thick blood pouring from each self inflicted cut. These intoxicating thoughts were even beginning to turn him on and his head tilted back, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull and a groan passing his lips as he reached a hand down to touch himself.

Damian was brought back to reality by a hand grabbing his wrist and he opened his eyes to glare harshly up at the nurse.

“Dr. O’Neil would like to speak with you.” She told him, returning his hard stare. He was taken by the hand and lead into an office cluttered with paperwork yet to be sorted. The door was closed behind him and Damien’s attention was quickly on the old man sitting at his desk.

“Have a seat.” He motioned for his patient to sit down and reluctantly Damian sat on the chair, his feet kicked up onto the table; he didn’t treat this place like the prison it was, rather like a holiday camp in which he could leave at any point. He wasn’t sick. “My name is Dr. Addi O’Neil, and I understand you’re our most oldest patient here, Damian.”

“I’m not a patient, all of these people here have problems.”

“You don’t?”


The doctor sighed and just continued on with what he was planning to say. “In any case we’re dropping your medication. I believe we can help you more if we just talk about it.” Damian rolled his eyes. “You have a problem, Damian Mason, and we’ll help you get better.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and took his feet from the table, leaning forward and glaring at him. “I don’t have a problem. I don’t need help. And I don’t need to get better. What I do need is for you psychos to let me go.”

“I can’t do that, Damian. Not until you learn to overcome your disorder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients I need to see…”

“Fine.” He was quick to his feet, pushing the chair back and turning to stalk towards the door. Upon opening it he was greeted with a nurse who lead him back to his original seat. Damian once more picked up his book and sat down with a heavy huff.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rosie Clark Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil
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The book felt heavy in my hands as I flipped through the worn pages. The Phantom Of The Opera, that was what I was reading. It was one of the few books they permitted me, even though they had been iffy about it. "What if Julie comes out, and she hurts someone with it?" They had asked. I didn't know what they were talking about- they said I had Mulitiple Personality Disorder, but I didn't believe them- I just blacked out from time to time. No matter what I did, though, I didn't like this Julie. She seemed mean. Though, I don't really see how you can hurt someone with a book, it isn't like you can intententenally give yourself or anyone else a paper cut. At least, not with the silly plastic sides they put on the sides. Though, everything was covered in, concealed by, or made of plastic, so it was to be expected that my book would, too.

I folded up my book quietly and sighed. I had read the book a good forty times in my stay at the Tearmainn. It held no interest to me anymore. Cristine wasn't as rivoting and sad as the orphan, and the Phantom wasn't as intriguing. I looked around the room absentmindedly, wondering when I could go back to my room- makeing us sit here like friends doesn't make us friends, and my room is a lot more comfy than the everything-is-unbreakable room this was. In my room everything is unbreakable too, but at least it had a bed I could sit on. I sort of wondered what it would be like for me if I were allowed back into society. It had been about one year and ten months since I came here, but I had been a lot longer since I had functioned in the outside world. The foster home- the one I went to after my parents went missing. I don't know where they went, but I assume both are dead becuase I don't remember what happened to me. I guess I locked that part of my childhood out. Anyway, I draw a blank on how I got to the foster home, but I didn't like it there. The people wern't nearly as nice as my family had been.

I stood up from my chair as silently as I could and walked over to the couch in front of the indstructible television and sat down. I didn't really want to go through the paces of turning on the t.v, but I did curl up on the couch with my head on my knees. I looked at my nails, filed down and cut to uniform shape. I wondered what book I would read next. The wizard of Oz maybe. That one was always a good read, no matter how many times I read it. "Rosie?" A nurse asked, like her name was a question or something. "Yes?" I turned and pulled my legs down. "Dr. O'Niel wishes to see you, Rosie" people always said my name a lot more than was nessisary, and it got on my nerves. I stood up quickly and she held out her hand, which I took. It was like I was a child or something to them, like I couldn't be trusted to get to my destination without their help. That had only happened once, and in my defense, it was really boreing and a walk seemed like a good idea. She lead me down to a chair which I sat in quietly and folded my hands over my lap. There was a man across with me, and I smiled politely and looked down. "Rosie? My name is Dr. Addi O'Niel. I just want to tell you, we have desided to drop your medication." The man said, and I looked up. "Fine. I'm not sick anyway. I guess it helped with my blackouts a little, but I'll be fine without it. May I go now?" I asked quickly. I didn't like interaction all that much. Sadly, he didn't let me go just then.

"Right- well, I think that talking will cure you faster than the medicine" the man said. I blinked a few times. "I told you, I'm not sick" I wispered, looking up at him. "May I go, please?" This time, he nodded and a nurse lead me back to the rec room, where I quickly sat down and looked at the blank t.v. I sort of wondered if my blackouts would come back with more frequency without my medicine, but I desided not to dwell on it. They were just blackouts after all.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil Character Portrait: Harlan Sheridan
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Blunt, sanded down corners on the table. Bookshelf with books that were carefully screened for possibly triggering material. A deck of playing cards lying on the table, set aside and forgotten. Several men and women milling about listlessly. One leaning back in his chair and going stir crazy on top of mentally crazy. The fluorescent lighting that was filled to the brim with the cadavers of hapless insects. And most importantly, a black haired young man drumming his fingers on the table.

Harlan did not miss a single detail. He stood up and, running his hand over the table, snatched up the cards. Languidly, he then deposited his newest acquisition into his pocket. It didn't matter to him that once he was sent back to his room he'd lose it; he wanted it. With a soft huff, he began pacing the room.

Him pacing the room was, to any nurse who'd worked with him, a sign that something unpleasant was going to happen if he didn't find something to amuse himself with.

He had gotten a crossword book three weeks ago, but finished it within the week. It was hardly flimsy or thin, but he'd sat himself down during his excessive recreational time and passed the hours in that way. It's their fault. Would it kill them to let us outside? If you put us in an enclosed space, then you can keep those sane people safe behind a fence. A zoo does better by its animals than an asylum does its humans.

Dimly, like the faint memory it was, he remembered that after he'd finished the book and thrown it across the room, he'd growled that everyone there was boring. Although, it had been some time since he said that. There were more people now. More people that could provide oodles of entertainment. Such as Mr. Horn-dog.

He angled his path for the man who so obviously had something for the depressed chick-- however, a nurse got to the aroused man before he could. He scowled and crossed his arms as he returned to his pacing. He'd paced about for a good while before that nurse came for him. Harlan gave her his best smile, even though at this point he knew they would never fall for it, or go so far as to describe him as 'charming'.

"Come with me. Dr. O'Neil wants to meet you," she said.

Harlan stood and quirked an eyebrow at that. He asked, "Wants, or his meeting me and the other patients is a necessity to the proper execution of his job?"

"Both," she admitted, laughing softly. "You know, it's a wonder we don't have a rut in the rug."

At least he never failed to get a response from the nurses. Be it a chuckle or a short conversation, he knew that he could get them to react. He'd always been able to get people to react.

He entered the room, noticing immediately the well-fed and saggy-faced psychiatrist. He glanced to the walls, looking for the man's diploma. He wondered what his Alma Mater was.

"Hello, Harlan Sheridan. Take a seat," the doctor suggested. Harlan complied but rolled his eyes. He pointedly ignored that and continued unaffectedly, "I'm Dr. Addi O'Neil."

"Okay, introductions over. Wouldn't it have been more efficient to do this in one big meeting? We were all in the rec room anyway."

"Well, possibly, but I'd like to meet with each of you individually, and to tell you that I'll be dropping your medication."

Harlan smiled. This was fine by him. The medication that he'd been on since first arriving annoyed him. "Alrighty then. 'Cept I guess it's not cuz of me-- it's you and your ideals. Right?"

The doctor didn't say anything.

That's new. He narrowed his eyes. "Why's your name Addi? Typically that's a girl's name, not a guy's, where I come from. Unless I'm wrong in assuming you're not a chick. I mean, old people just seem to do that, the hags looking all wrinkly and masculine and the male-geezers looking all old haggish."

"I hope you won't deflect later on. Talking about your problem will help you," Dr. O'Neil assured him.

As if that helps anything, Harlan thought grumpily. He stared at the old man in front of him until the nurse came back to escort him to the rec room, and then he happily followed. He didn't like him, at all.

"Not a word in excess," he grumbled as he slumped down in the nearest chair. "Not a single word. In, out, ignored."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Madelyn Rayburn Character Portrait: Dr. Addi O'Neil
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For the most part, it was quiet in the Recreational Room… Madelyn hated it. She absolutely loathed the silence, the false sense of peace and tranquility. It didn’t exist; not for her anyways. The only time she ever felt remotely calm or as close to it as she could get was when the nurse brought in her pills every morning and every night. As artificial as that is, they numbed her and soothed her nerves. They helped… if only for a small amount of time but they did. Yet this morning the nurse didn’t bring in her medication. She’d asked her about it on the way to the rec room but the nurse had given her a pitying look. She didn’t like that look. It meant the nurse knew something she didn’t. Madelyn didn’t trust people who gave her that look. She didn’t trust anyone really.

They’re not telling you something you should know… don’t you find that a little odd Maddie? a voice inside her head whispered seductively. Huddling in a corner of the room, Madelyn hugged her knees to her chest in a vain attempt to comfort herself. The voice continued, Maddie, you know I’m right. They’re hiding something from you. They’re plotting behind those closed doors as we speak. They want to harm you. They’ll lie to you and call you crazy. Are you crazy Maddie? Without any conscious effort on her part her lips moved to answer the question aloud, “No.” They can hear you, Maddie, the voice whispered. Her eyes widened and she tightened her lips together. They can see you, Maddie, the voice said, louder this time. As if she’d been slapped, Madelyn jerked back sharply and hit the wall. She pressed herself to it as if she could will herself to meld with it. Her eyes frantically searched the room for any sign of someone watching her… but no one was looking. Still, there was nothing that could stop the cold feeling of dread that ran up her spine, the uncertainty that she felt and the fear that paralyzed her. You’re stupid for thinking you were safe Maddie… You’ll never be safe.

Tears pricked at her eyes and slid down her pale cheeks. Her hands tightened their grip on her arms to the point that her nails dug painfully into the flimsy material of her pajamas and into her flesh. Burying her face into her arms she tried to calm her uneven breathing and erratic heartbeat but couldn’t quite manage it. The world around her was spinning and her head felt light. Not the good kind of light but the type that meant you were close to fainting. Madelyn couldn’t risk falling unconscious right now. She had to keep her guard up. She had to watch after herself because she couldn’t trust anyone else to do it… no one was even willing to do it either way. Her own parents sent her away to this place because they couldn’t do it. Madelyn couldn’t even really trust herself sometimes. There was no one she could trust. Everyone is the enemy.

“Madelyn?” a voice asked, startling her out of her inner thoughts. A second later she felt a hand on her shoulder… And she snapped.


The sound ringed in her ears and vibrated through her. For a partial second there was a different kind of silence. This silence held a certain expectation in the air and felt fragile… as if at any moment it would break. The nurse’s cheek was already coloring into a harsh red hue. Her stunned eyes were wide and for a moment Madelyn saw fear settle in them. The same fear she knew hers had most of the time. She shouldn’t have touched me, Madelyn thought numbly. She was going to hurt me. I know she was. Madelyn noticed the moment the nurse seemed to finally understand that she had slapped her. She saw it all clearly. From the moment that the nurses lips parted and quivered, to when her eyes hardened in possible anger.

Before she could move further, two nurses grabbed a hold of her arms and dragged her towards another room. She struggled of course. Panic made her kick at them, scratch and thrash about in order for them to let her go. All that Madelyn could think about was getting away from these people that wanted to harm her. But she was so weak. She hadn’t slept in the last couple of days and fatigue weighed her down. She couldn’t escape. You’ll never escape, the voice piped in her head. Madelyn couldn’t hold in the tears and sobs at that thought. Sagging in their arms, Madelyn gave up her struggle and wept. They finally managed to drag her into the room and settle her in a chair. Her blurry vision registered the figure in front of her but she had no fight left in her. She was just so tired.

“Hello, Madelyn, I’m Dr. Addi O’Neil.”, the figure said. Another doctor, another enemy to look forward to, the voice mocked her. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down. The doctor continued, “I’m the new psychologist and I’m here to tell you that we are dropping your medication.” Just as the last word left his lips, Madelyn’s eyes snapped open and she jumped up from her chair. “No… You can’t do that. You can’t. Why would you do that?!?” she asked, her voice rising as her panic increased. The doctor calmly responded, “Yes, Madelyn. I don’t believe in medication-“

“The hell you don’t! You’re a fucking doctor. Your whole work relies on prescribing your patient with the medication they need. How the hell do you not believe in medication?!? Do you-“, Madelyn cut herself off. He didn’t care. The voice was right. He’s just another enemy. Someone else to watch out for. Someone else that could possibly harm her. No Maddie. Don’t you see? Already he’s hurting you… he’s taking the one thing that helps, the voice said in mock sympathy before adding in a more sadistic tone, We’re going to have so much fun Maddie. Her face contorted into something ugly and she rushed out of the room without a second glance toward the doctor. She stormed her way back to the rec room and reached the corner she’d been sitting at. With a red haze around her vision she punched the wall without thought. A slight whimper left her lips and she cradled her hand toward her chest. She’d hurt herself. She couldn’t be doing that. Leaning against the wall she slipped down to the floor and hugged herself again. She was so tired. So very tired.