deadguysjr: (Ugh homework)
James Sirius Potter ([personal profile] deadguysjr) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2013-07-20 02:17 am

Asylum Meme

Meme, Interrupted



"People ask, How did you get in there? What they really want to know is if they are likely to end up in there as well. I can't answer the real question. All I can tell them is, It's easy."



Well, you've really done it now. You're in a mental institution. Maybe it's a modern facility with a therapy garden, compassionate staff members, and a warm environment meant to help nurse people back to health, or maybe it's a glorified dungeon where the government shoves people they don't want to deal with and patients are abused by staff. Regardless of what it is, you're there, and it doesn't look like they're planning on letting you out any time soon.

Maybe you're actually not supposed to be there and you're trying to arrange for your release. Maybe you actually are meant to be there and you're struggling with your illness. Maybe you're not a patient at all and you're just there to visit or earn your paycheck. It's up to you.

Rules:

1. Post with your character's name, canon, and your preferences on the subject bar, and set up the situation.
2. Tag other people. Are you a visitor? A staff member? A fellow patient? A hallucination? It's your choice.
3. Have fun!
totallysane: (boss! will break)

Ryuugamine Mikado | DRRR!! | OTA

[personal profile] totallysane 2013-07-21 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
He's not allowed pens. Or anything capable of making flame. Those are pretty normal things not to let someone in this place have, but he's not allowed a lot of things.

He's kept quite drugged up. Why? No one will tell him what he did. He doesn't remember himself, why he's in this place, and no one will tell him.

Maybe they're waiting for him to remember.

Or maybe they do tell him, and it sounds like gibberish, goes straight in one ear and out another without his brain ever being able to process it.

He doesn't know why he smells burning flesh some nights, and blood others.

He doesn't know why they look at him as if he might move any moment, even when they've allowed him to sit up in the bed without restraints, to walk around his little room freely.

He doesn't know anything at all, and he has a lot of questions. Perhaps someone will come answer them for him. Perhaps someone will come tell him, finally.