alkali (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alkali) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2015-09-05 12:30 am
alkali) wrote in bakerstreet2015-09-05 12:30 am
the asylum meme
"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!
Tim Drake | 63!DC Preboot | ota
[Why is she here? It could be because she's been failing spectacularly to cope with Bruce's death, to the point where she created an elaborate conspiracy where he's alive but trapped in time. That certainly seems like a good reason for therapy. But then, it might be because she's created an even more elaborate fantasy world where she and her family fight crime and save the world on a regular basis. So hard to tell.
Right now, she's just sitting in one of the common areas, apparently thumbing through someone's old copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Apparently, because she's really more considering whether or not it would be worth it to just escape from this whole stupid situation.]
undercover
[Alicia Draper has been suffering episodes of severe depression and self-injury, as evidenced by her impressive array of scars. Luckily, she has caring family who have sent her here to recover under the care of the expert doctors on staff. And if she happens to also be covertly gathering information for an investigation, then who'd notice? Hopefully no one, since that's what this entire mission hinges around.]
Henry Lonsdale | In The Flesh | OTA
Harry Hart | Kingsman | OTA (can switch to brackets)
"Killed a church full of people."
Harry Hart knew the things they said about him, and he never uttered a word about it. 'Catatonic' was the word they liked to use about him, but a few of the doctors had seen beyond that. They had been troublesome in their own way but lone voices in the wilderness when it came to the whole. There would be no trial, no prison. This was where Harry would spend the rest of his life unless his fellow Kingsmen found him. That much he had resigned himself to. With it being a black ops mission, it wasn't as if anyone outside of them or maybe select MI6 agents had known.
For now, he sat in his soft lined room on a cocktail of sedatives and waited. Someone would come. They had to. He wasn't insane, couldn't be. He was Galahad, not a disillusioned psychopath that couldn't accept reality.
He wasn't.
[As a visitor]
Questions had been answered politely, bypassed with credentials and slick talking. This was not the place for any of their people to be left, and damned if he was going to let it happen. Papers were already tucked into the inner pocket of his suit that would give him power of attorney to assign medical care to any of his people he found.
After Arthur's betrayal, the older records had been reviewed. All they had found were hints that agents had been assassinated or condemned to places like this.
For Harry, that was unacceptable.
"I'd like to see these patients," he said, handing the files to the charge nurse.
Patient
An orderly finally unlocked and pushed open the door. A tiny, vaguely jaundiced man was standing next to her, his clothes betraying the fact that he was also an inmate. His bright gold hair stuck up at odd angles, and he must have some kind of condition because his irises were yellow. If Harry cared to look very closely, different shades of yellow in the man's irises made it look like there was a sun around his pupil.
The man waved with a bright (although somewhat sleepy) smile before moving his hands quickly. At first, the movements were just gestural, but then he seemed to focus and the movements formed actual words in sign language. Do you believe in the Sandman?
"He's asking if you know sign," the orderly supplied incorrectly. "He asks that to everyone. Mr. Doe here will be your buddy and help get you integrated with the rest of the patients. Good luck understanding him."
Doe isn't my name. The patients call my Snoozy, but that's not my name either, the man signs, his gestures so flowery and ornamented that it can become hard to understand the signs. They call me that because they couldn't understand me when I told them my real name.
Visitor
She woke up days later, stripped of her equipment and inside a high-security mental institution in Poland. She knew over a half dozen languages, but Arthur knew that Polish was not one of them. She had to communicate in a mixture of Russian and English with those who could understand either language, and there was little chance to charm your way out of an institution if you couldn't speak the language. She wasn't not entirely sure why Arthur didn't just kill her, but she suspected he either wanted to use her in the future or he enjoyed seeing her fruitlessly try to escape. She'd gotten very close to escaping multiple times, but that only earned her straps on her bed, three separate locks on her door, and lots of isolation.
After over a year of having her escape attempts thwarted and no rescue in sight, she decided that Arthur must have told the Kingsmen she was dead instead of mad, because if he said she was mad and committed, then someone would have visited her. Then after a while, she began to wonder if the Kingsmen were ever real. It was very difficult to hold onto herself through months and months of solitary confinement and intermittent half-understood psychiatric appointments telling her she had been in a terrible accident and needed to accept what happened before she could move on.
She was dozing in her padded room (her arm strapped to a metal hook hidden beneath the padding of the wall) when she heard someone walking down the hall. It probably wasn't for her, but she still woke and sat at attention. Then her door opened and she had to squint because of the light coming in.
In walked a man she had begun to doubt was real or not. The color drained from her face, but even now, she is able to maintain composure. "Harry?"
The Nogitsune | Teen Wolf | OTA gen, m/m smut
As a spirit in a human form, the Nogitsune had been drawn to places of misery and hurt. If there was someone there it or a host had known, so much the better.
"Hello there."
The creature tilted its head like an interested dog, crouched beside its newest victim. A smile that could have been mistaken for kind was on its lips as its cold fingers rose to stroke the person's cheek with false gentleness.
"You're not alone. I'm here."
--------------
(patient)
The younger twin brother of Stiles Stilinski was what they all said. Hopelessly insane soon followed. Disconnected from reality, refusing to accept his mother's death. Instead, the sickly pale male curled in the corner of his cushioned cell as if that would protect him. His arms were held tight against his body in the grip of the restraint jacket.
He whispered to himself about a world that had never been, where he had been the dominant one that had nearly killed all of them... had succeeded in killing more than a few before Scott, Kira and his brother had subdued him. Even his name was one he denied, calling himself 'Nogitsune' instead of his real name. Kira had explained what one was to Scott.
So here he stayed, forgotten by most everyone in the face of more immediate threats. His lips still moved silently to recite words spoken in his fantasy world. His black eyes focused on things no one else saw or heard. At least until someone tried to break him out of them.
Link // Legend of Zelda(s) // OTA - Patient
Those same people knew he was a high flight risk. He thought he was some kind of hero, his papers read, a hero in the literal sense. He was sure someone was out there trying to destroy the world, and he was the only person who could save it. Sometimes, he was sure it had been long enough that he failed, which would spark streaks of isolation, of mourning. However, he would just as quickly decide he couldn't give up. They had to let him out, they had to. He was a descendant of heroes of old, he was chosen. If he failed here, what did they think would happen?
[ooc: We can go as light or dark as wanted. Crosscanon and medium welcomed. Feel free to have Link approach you.]
Hellboy | Open
[Convinced that he is the harbinger of the apocalypse, Hellboy was admitted against his will as a potential danger to himself and others. He has delusions of being red-skinned with horns and a tail, but they say his appearance is that of a normal man, with the exception being of scars on his forehead where he tried to sand down his horns.
Mostly, when not sedated thoroughly, he spends his time trying to escape. Right now, he's sat in the common area, blankly watching TV. He isn't a danger at the moment, the drugs doing their job to keep him nice and cooperative.]
Aerous Jentis | Pathfinder RPG OC
To be fair, it's not entirely his fault. The blood-drinking he learned early on from his earliest guardians. The same goes for his tendency to get into flashy fights. But the rest... His counselors and psychiatristsee say he needs to learn better ways to cope with his life story.
He kneels over a body, his teeth dripping blood. The one consolidation is he only inflicts that on a handful of people.
Sherlock Holmes | open
He blinks, looking out the window. The scene hasn't changed. No one coming up the road, no one entering the gates. No one coming to take him away. He doesn't speak very often, the non-observant considers "John Doe partially catatonic, but he didn't dare speak. Sometimes he couldn't seem to help it, but when he could control it, he would attempt to. He was still too weak to fight his way out. He only understands half their language, anyway.
He rubs a bruise on his arm. He couldn't remember where it had come from, or how he had gotten it. He turns away from the barred window after the hour has passed, dejected. He isn't violent, at least not anymore.
[undercover]
This was all highly suspicious, and it hasn't taken much to get himself admitted. Drug addict, schizophrenia. The like.
The point was to cooperate and observe. Discerning if the staff really were as bad as anyone said.