Brightley Asylum, a safe haven for troubled youth. Here in Brightley Asylum we strive for the best, doing all we can to ensure the welfare and rehabilitation of your friends, loved ones, and family members. Our therapists are all well trained for any and all circumstances, prepared for anything. Never have a fear about your loved ones in our care. We assure the best care for every one of our patients. OCs are currently closed
Activity Level → I'm always on every day, I have the email notification on to be sent to my email just in case.
Character Name → Rachel Berry
Character Age → 19
Disorder(s) → Bipolar/ Insomnia/ ADHD
Bio → She has always been one of those kids in school who were late on developing things specially in math and such. With her being bipolar and other things going on with her it wasn't always easy for Rachel to sit still and to be quiet. Each and every time she's at her desk she has her pencil in her hand tapping away and kept looking at everyone all too weird for their liking. She has had trouble sleeping since she was a little girl, pretty much she can go on for days without sleep and she's totally fine the next day. At least her dads think so. But at school it's a whole different story, she's always yelling so loudly due to her being bipolar and always being so jumpy they almost had to put her in a straight jacket at least that's what the teachers thought about doing with her and also placing a strap of some sort around her mouth just to shut her up.
Ships → Puckleberry
Anti-Ships → Finchel/Faberry
Para Sample (In character, can be from a different roleplay) → Things weren't so easy when it came to Rachel, it seemed that day everyone was ignoring her for some reason unknown. Even Finn, her own fiancee. There was only two people who weren't ignoring her and that was Noah and Kurt, both seemed to enjoy her company much more than she enjoyed both of theirs. Sighing softly she walked towards the group and sat down after Mr. Schuester impolitely ignored her. Looking at Finn she could practically see him looking at her then looking away so quickly like she did something wrong. It brought a few tears to her eyes and she got up headed to the door and looked at him once more. After that she sighed and hung her head down and walked out of the choir room. Kurt had ran after her to make sure she was alright, all Rachel could do was just sit there by her locker and cry. She didn't care who saw her besides everyone was in their classes at that time.
" Kurt, I don't understand what I did wrong." She said with a sigh and wiped her tears from her face away " I don't know why Finn is being so distant from me, why everyone but you and Noah were totally ignoring me." The next thing both her and Kurt heard was Noah literally yelling at Finn in the choir room making him feel guilty for ignoring her, and to at least have the balls to go up to her and apologize. She shook her head and look at Kurt, " I can't look at Finn right now, I'll be at the bleachers. There's no football practice or cheerleading practices today, so I'll be alone. I... I just can't look at him, my heart is breaking.." She said with a slight stutter torwards the end. Hearing someone clear his throat she looked up to see Finn standing there, " I.. I, how long have you been standing there?" She asked sheepishly, knowing in her heart he heard every word she said, and she really didn't want any pity from him. " Never mind Finn, I know you heard everything and yes that is how I feel. Did I do something wrong for you to hate me like this?" She asked instead she sighed and decided not to wait on an answer she practically ran out of the school and towards the football field. Hoping in her heart that if Finn heard where she was going he would run off after her.
Anything else? → This is my first time ever roleplaying like this and I hope to become great at it, and I promise to do my best to be on here and roleplay with everyone in the group.
Brittany always knew she was different from everyone else, no one she knew had to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, none of her friends even seemed aware that this happened to people, so automatically they labelled her as different and distanced themselves. When Brittany turned 14 the night terrors started to dissipate, and she thought they were going to be gone for good.
Now she was 18 and they were back. She did everything to keep awake at night, sometimes she even harmed herself just so she wouldn't fall in to that horrible sleep. She distanced herself from people before they could distance themselves from her, and she was doing well, according to her. But her mother got tired of soothing her daughter every night, so she sent her off to Brightley Asylum.
Ships → Bram (OTP), Brittany/Happiness
Anti-Ships → Brittany/Unhappiness
Para Sample (From another RP) →
Brittany had been throwing herself completely into her drumming. It was better than sitting around and being sad because she was alone. Everyone else seemed to have someone. Brittany was pretty sure Sam was capital G gay for capital K Kurt, which was totally cute, and she knew Puck was in love with someone somewhere. She was just kind of alone. Sure, Brittany was happy that her and Santana were friends again, at least, as friendly as they could be after everything that went down. But she was still Sad.
Honestly, Brittany had thought that Santana loved her back, she really had. So being yelled at and practically hated after everything was said and done was really hard for Brittany. Which is why she clung to Sam as much as she did. He was like her big brother and she trusted him with everything. That and he was nice enough to always give her free sticks, and his family loved her. It was a good mix and it was helping Brittany deal with everything; slowly.
Santana though, she was always in the back of Brittany’s mind. She’d even started helping with lyrics here and there in the band because she actually felt like she had feelings worth writing about. Which was really new for her. Usually her feelings were of the happy boring variety, nothing worth singing about really, but that’d been changing and as she banged no specific rhythm on her drums she was reminded of where those new feelings, ones of want and regret, came from. Brittany stopped, “Hey,” she said looking over at Santana, actually surprised she showed up, “I’d keep playing but you’re kinda the enemy now..” Brittany forced a smile as she teased slightly before deciding to stand from her drums and walk over to where Santana had just taken a seat on the couch.
Santana started talking and kept blaming herself for them not being friends anymore and the other girl kept referring yo something that ‘you know’ and well… Brittany just sat there kind of confused mostly because she wasn’t really sure what you know meant but Santana knew and she was actually talking and Brittany wanted her to keep talking. She’d missed Santana’s voice a great deal and well, she’d just all around missed Santana so having her there seemed like a dream come true from the start. She bit at her lip when Santana started to blame herself, that made Brittany feel really, really bad, but it’s not like there was anything she could do or say to make things better. Santana couldn’t just be forced to love Brittany the was Brittany loved her. As much as the blond wished, that wasn’t possible. The reason she’d left the Unholy Trinity in the first place was because she was sad and even if it was somewhat because of Santana, it was just as much Brittany’s fault in her mind as well.
“San,” Brittany said softly, tilting her head, “It’s not all your fault, I just want you to know that, I guess.” She took a deep breath and played with the drum sticks that were still in her hands, “It’s my fault for being so… such a baby. My mom says I let too many things get to me all of the time, it’s my fault, not yours.”
Anything else? → Nope, thanks for considering me! :)
I can be active 3 or more times a week, often more
Bryan Ryan
32
Alcoholism and ADD
Bryan Ryan spent a month at Brightley Asylum when he was 17. It allowed him to turn his life around, pick his grades up and become sober. He headed to Georgetown and recieved his doctorate in Youth Psychiatry. Bryan now works at Brightley, living just down the street in order to be on call at all times. He is willing to do anything to help his patients.
Maybe Bryan and Cassandra, but I’m up for anything
No relationships with patients, but that’s about it
Para is from my other RP
The midmorning January air was bitingly cold as Rory headed outside in his Quidditch robes. He had taken his time eating his eggs at breakfast so as not to disturb his flight patterns, but he could still feel his stomach flopping. Rory hadn’t been on his old Nimbus in some time, and he was a little nervous-but not without a reason. Rory had gotten badly hurt the last time he flew, damaging his head as well as breaking an arm and a rib in the process. It had been humiliating, but Rory was determined to face Gryffindor this time better than before.
Rory was interrupted from his thoughts by crunching sounds not too far behind him. They were loud and fairly large-sounding. It was probably Sam. Rory turned around, and sure enough his friend was waving at him, his cheeks rosy from the morning frost. “Hey, Sam!” Rory called out. He turned fully around to face Sam, waiting until Sam could catch up with him. Rory had always been one to walk rather briskly, so he looked at some of his friends and often thought what slowpkes they were. Sam was one of those friends. He seemed to Rory to take his time wherever he went, not worrying about whether or not he was late. After what seemed like an eternity, Sam was at Rory’s side. The friends began to walk towards the Quidditch pitch. “You ready?” Rory asked Sam.
Bio:They started small when she was about 7 years old. That was the year she moved into a new house. There was something there that set them off. They continued to get worse over the years. Her parents taking her to doctor after doctor. None of them seemed to be able to help.
When she was 14, they tried the first hospital for the mentally ill. She was there for a few months and the nightmares started to let up. So they brought her home. She declined again. This cycle went on for the next two years until finally it was decided that enough was enough. They took her and went cross-country to the best hospital in the United States and left her there.
While she was at the hospital, she seemed to improve enough to be released after a year but it didn't last long. In fact, they even started getting worse. She would go crazy, seeing things that weren't there. Her nightmares during the day. They became a 24-hour menace that she couldn't escape.
Para Sample: She knew it only been a matter of time. More than once, the orderlies had banged into her room when the screams from her nightmares had woken them. They were not happy that she had disturbed their sleep.
The first thing they tried was the pills. They worked for a few days but made her feel funny so she stopped taking them. That came to an end quickly when the stored pills were discovered. After that, they forced her to take them every few days.
This only made the nightmares and the screams worse, so the next step was moving her room. She was given one away from everyone else in the far corner of the Center.
They had warned her, but she couldn’t listen forever. It got to be too much to hold the screams in behind her hands. It was ignored the first few times. But after the 7th night of being awoken in a row, they banged in.
She fought the whole way down the hallways. They were taking her the long way around so none of the other patients could help her. Instant terror froze her heart when she realized that Sam and Mason wouldn’t know what was going on. They would think she was just gone.
Before she could really process what was going on, she had been shoved into a dark room and the door slammed shut behind her. There was no sound and she was too afraid to move from her spot on the floor to find the lightswitch.
Anything else: She always has a sketchpad with her.
Disappointed in his ability to fit, Trent turned to cutting. It was both a punishment and relief for him. He needed the pain, and eventually, cutting and bulimia became his focus in life. The old Trent began to disappear, and a new one emerged. One that was depressed, struggling, and ruining his life. Trent's mom, who was one of his best friends, sent him to array of rehabs, but none seemed to work. Finally, she found Brightley Asylum and hoped and beg that it could help her baby boy.
Ships →Trent/Male Trent/Chemistry
Anti-Ships → Trent/Female, Trent/Forced
Para Sample (In character, can be from a different roleplay) → Debbie Nixon was an amazing woman, anyone could attest to that, especially her seventeen-year-old son Trent. Early on her husband had left the family because of Trent. Debbie would never tell her son that his father left because he suspected Trent was gay since he wanted girly stuff for his birthday instead of sporty items and such. Debbie was heartbroken but at the same time promised herself that she would never let anyone hurt Trent the way that her husband had hurt her and his only son. Little did she know that the person that would hurt Trent the most was his own mind. She had always told Trent that he was amazing and perfect the way he was and told him that she accepted him no matter who he liked, how he looked, or his beliefs. Debbie wasn’t the least bit surprised when she was approached one afternoon by Trent and he told her the truth, that he was indeed gay. She immediately pulled him into a hug and reassured the crying boy that he wasn’t going to hell and that she loved him no matter what. She did everything to make sure that he son was happy and that brought the two very close, someone would even say they were practically best friends. Trent confided everything in here. It was because Trent confided everything in her that she knew something was wrong when he stopped returning her calls and sending her daily text messages about his life.
Trent always kept her updated on his life and vice versa. Debbie was excited beyond words when Trent called her about his boyfriend Matty. She could hear the happiness in his voice and it made her so happy. She knew Trent thought he would never find someone and the fact that he did made her want to scream with happiness. She had hopped this would prevent him from going back to that dark place that had put the family through a whirlwind. But then the phone calls stopped. She figured maybe he was busy or something. Soon the texts stopped, and the fact that she hadn’t heard from her son in a few days scared her beyond belief. She was ready to make the drive to Dalton to go check on her only son when she got a call from him. The minute she head him speak she knew something was wrong. The happiness that usually filled his voice was gone; instead it was replaced by a sad, hurt voice that made her heartbreak. “Mom” Trent told her quietly “I need to tell you something.” When Debbie heard her sons voice it immediately brought her back to that time a few years ago when eating disorders had taken over her sons life.
She sat there and watched her son essentially kill himself. She didn’t know how to stop it and she also knew that there was no way to stop it unless Trent wanted help. He needed to want help to. So she was there everyday, trying to get her son to eat, telling him how amazing and gorgeous and perfect he was, in hopes that it would help him a little. She did everything her mind could think of except forcing him into counseling. She knew that he needed to want to help himself first if there was anyway he was going to get better. If anyone asked her about that day she could tell you clearly what happened. Trent had gotten home from running “errands” but she knew he had been at the gym for hours because she knew her son. She frowned at his body, it was looking way to skinny for his body frame and he looked so weak. He gave her a forced smile, the sparkle in his eyes gone. She heard him go upstairs to his room where he blasted music so that he could throw up without being heard. Twenty minutes had gone by and the music was still blasting, this was unusual for Trent. Debbie went up to his room and knocked loudly. When she got no response she opened the unlocked door and went into the room. She was not prepared for the sight in front of her and let out a blood-curling scream. Her son, her only baby laid on the floor leading from his bathroom motionless. The tears wouldn’t stop as she saw the drops of blood on the tissue in his hand. She ran over to him, thanking god when she found a pulse on him. It was faint but it was there. She had to save her baby. Debbie immediately called 911 and waited for the paramedics to arrive as she held her son and rocked him, praying for him to live through the tears that were streaming down her face. Trent was the reason that she lived; he was her everything and she was not going to lose him. When the paramedics finally arrived after what seemed like hours they loaded the malnourished boy onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. One of the Nixon’s neighbors had heard the scream and came over, volunteering to drive the sobbing Debbie to the hospital since she was in no shape to drive herself. Debbie waited for hours in the waiting room for news on her son. Was he alive? Was he going to be okay? When could she seem him? She heard nothing for two and a half hours. When the doctor finally came out and told her that her son was stable, but nowhere near healthy she broke down in his arms, not able to hear the soothing words that he was trying to comfort her with
Trent was in the hospital for close to a week and day or night if someone went into his room they would see Debbie Nixon sitting at his bedside either crying while Trent was asleep or reading to him and reminiscing happy times with him while he was awake. She canceled all her appointments at work because her son was far more important to her. Debbie pleaded with her son to get help so that he could be happy and healthy again. She missed him, the person in the hospital bed in front of her was not her son it was someone else. The long journey of getting better soon started. She was there to take him to all his group counseling and individual counseling meetings. She made sure that he ate healthy and even went on a diet so they were following the same diet plan. The biggest thing she did was find and transfer him to Dalton. Debbie heard about the torture that Trent went through on a day-to-day basis at her school and she didn’t understand how someone could hurt her son. He would never hurt anyone, so why did they have to hurt him? A friend suggested a small all boy school called Dalton. Debbie knew her son loved to sing and she had heard of their amazing a cappella group called the Warblers. She hoped that this was what was needed to get her son better. Once the doctor gave him the okay to go back to school Debbie transferred Trent to Dalton. Just a few days in and she could hear the happiness in her son’s voice. She was ecstatic; she was finally getting her son back. When she got that phone call from him she started crying almost immediately because she knew she was losing her son again. “What is it baby? What’s wrong?” Debbie asked, even though in the back of her mind she knew what is wrong.
The doctors had warned her that he could relapse. They having an ed is like being addicted to alcohol, once an alcoholic always an alcoholic. All that had to happen was for someone to trigger something in him and he would go back to that point. Nothing was suppose to trigger him at Dalton though! They had a strict no bullying policy, so what had happened? “I-I messed up mom. I don’t know what happened, but I can’t stop. I’m so sorry. Please, please don’t hate me.” Trent told her as he blinked back tears in his eyes. Debbie felt her own tears prickle at her eyes and she shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I could never hate you sweetie, tell me what is wrong. I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t called, did something happen with Matty?” Debbie knew that if Matty had hurt her son and made him like this again she would seriously hurt him. How could anyone be mean and hurtful to her baby!
“No mom, he’s been amazing. It’s actually because of him that I am calling. Him, David, and Wes made me call mom. “ Trent sat down on his bed, pulling his knees to his chest. He could hear the worry in his mom’s voice and he hated hurting her. She was such an amazing woman and had been there so much for her and now he was hurting her. “Mommy I t-think I need help.” Trent told her as he slowly let the tears fall from his eyes. On the other end of the line Debbie grasped the counter in her kitchen to steady herself. Her son hadn’t called her mommy said he was little. He sounded so vulnerable and hurt on the phone. She just wanted to wrap him up in her arms and tell him that it was okay. She felt helpless since she was so a half an hour away from Dalton and couldn’t hold him right now. “Sweetie, are you okay? A-are you…are you having troubles again? Debbie braced herself for the answer that she as sure to come. She knew her son so well, and she knew that he had gotten back to that horrible place. She could hear him take a deep breath to steady his breathing. “I don’t think so mom. I’m not okay. The voices, they wont stop. They keep telling me how horrible I am. How ugly I am. How worthless I am. How fat and stupid I am. How I don’t deserve Matty. Mommy make them stop. Please make them stop. “ Trent pleaded as he curled himself into a ball on his bed and let the tears flow loose from his eyes. He just wanted to stop and be happy again. He didn’t know how to though.
Debbie could feel her heart breaking as he son spoke. He was none of those things. None at all. She knew she could only do so much on the phone so as she spoke she went in search for her keys and her purse, ready to drive to Dalton. There was no way that she would let her crying son be alone and not be comforted. She had to be there with him. She also knew that she had to be strong for Trent, he needed someone to rely on. Debbie did her best to stop the tears from flowing and told Trent in a calm voice.“Honey, you are none of those things. You are perfect just the way you are. And I will make them stop. We will make them stop. You are going to be healthy again. I’m on my way sweetie. I’m on my way.” Debbie hoped that her words put at least a little bit of ease to Trent’s mind. Once she had her purse Debbie looked for the card that she always had ready, just in case. It was the number of Trent’s old therapist that had helped him through everything last time. “Trent sweetie, I am on my way. I am going to call Dr. Barnes and I will be there shortly, okay?”
Trent tried to slow down his crying as he heard his mom speak. He wanted so desperately to believe her, his mom would never lie to him after all. But he couldn’t his mind wouldn’t let him. So he just simply responded with an “Okay mom. Please hurry. I need you” when she told him that she would be there shortly. He was scared about going back to Dr. Barnes, he didn’t want to hear the disappointment in his voice too. He hung up with his mom and just cried, waiting for her to arrive.
Debbie didn’t care about road rules at the moment, he son was way to important to actually go the speed limit. As she drove and tried to push the feeling of wanting to be sick out of her stomach she called Dr. Barnes. Unfortunately the soonest that he could see Trent was next week, she just hoped that it wouldn’t be too late. She was pretty well educated on Ed’s at this point and knew that Trent would need help soon. Unfortunately finding another therapist was hard. Trent had to be able to connect with the person or he would never be able tot open up to someone. Dr. Barnes was the fifth therapist that Trent saw in the outpatient rehab facility that he attended for a few months until he was better. She knew that he had to see him if he had hopes of wanting to get better.
Twenty minutes later Debbie was pulling into a parking spot at Dalton and rushing up to her son’s room. She didn’t care that she bumped into a few confused students, or was chased down the hallway but a faculty member, all that was important to her was that she got to her son. In his room Trent smiled a little as he heard ruckus outside of his room. His mom was here being as amazing as ever. When she walked into his room she found him curled into a ball, crying to himself. Debbie wasted no time in going over to him and quickly pulling him into her arms. “It’s okay baby, I’m here. You are going to be okay, sweetie. Everything is going to be okay.” Trent pleaded hysterically through sobs. “I will baby, the voices will stop you are going to get better. I promise.” Debbie told him as she finally let her own tears fall down from her eyes. She rubbed his back as his tears started to soak through to here shirt. If anyone walked into the room that night that would be how they would find the two of them, Trent desperately clutching to his mom as she tried to calm him down. A few hours later they both finally felt themselves from the exhaustion of crying. In a sleepy voice Trent quietly asked his mom “You really promise? I will get better?.” Debbie rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. “I really promise sweetie, you will get better. If it is the last thing I do.”
Nick Duval || 17 || Schizophrenia, Intermittent Explosive Disorder || Taken
Growing up as an only child, Nick was used to being by himself alone. His father was a doctor, his mother a pediatrician, so naturally they were never home, and Nick spent most of his time with their nanny, Debbie. It started when Nick was 8 years old. He was sitting in his room, playing with his toys when he heard someone call his name. Looking around, he had a confused look, knowing that Debbie was down stairs in the kitchen, able to hear her moving around. The voice called him again, making Nick scramble up and look around his room. This went on until he hit high school, getting to know it. Nick had been able to hide this from his parents all his life, until it happened.
During his high school years, Nick had been bullied, always the quiet kid in the corner, checking behind his back as he tried to keep himself out of trouble. Which was thrown out the window, as the voice started talking to him again. After PE he was changing when Leo, the bully of the school, shoved him into his locker. Not being able to hold back anymore, the voice inside snapped, and Nick attacked, flailing and throwing wild punches, kicks and yelling out curses. Leo, not being able to move fast enough, he had suffered a broken nose, jaw, ribs and a few more. The teachers were able to pull Nick off the other boy, in time before he killed him, and Nick passed out.
Charlie Fabray || 21 || Psychosis & Substance Abuse || Taken
The day that Charlie was born, was nothing out of the ordinary. His mother had been ecstatic to find out that she was pregnant, with not only one, but two babies, a boy and a girl, she found out later. The nine months of pregnancy were not the easiest, the hormones hitting her hard. During the birth however, a mass amount of blood loss occured, causing his mother to pass off early. Their father had taken it to himself to raise them himself, finding it extremely difficult. The combination of trying to raise the two kids, keeping his job, which was hanging by a thread, and falling into deep depression, caused him to take his own life.
Charlie,and his sister were then shipped off to the local orphanage, in Lima, Ohio. Growing up there til they were 12, Charlie and his sister, Quinn had been close, until one day, a family came in and decided to only take Quinn, but not Charlie. The only thing he had been able to keep of hers was a picture of them two, which he took everywhere with him.
After being torn apart from the only closest thing he had to family, Charlie had spent most of his time in his room. Over time, as he grew up, Charlie had learned to block that part of his life from his memory, causing him to start rebelling against the rules of the house. That one night, he ran into one of his friends, who offered him some pills, which he took eagerly.
What happened next, no one could have predicted. A reaction to the pill cause Charlie to black out, and start convulsing. The day that he woke up, Charlie had been surrounded in white, the hospital walls blinding him, before he could hear voices around him.
As he tried to sit up, Charlie’s head became fuzzy, hearing a female voice say, “Third night he’s done this…he’s slipping away from us…checked into an asylum…he’s lost himself…” Before he dozed off again. When he woke up the next time, Charlie had found himself sitting in a room, with a doctor looking down at him, a small smile on his face. “Welcome to Brightley Asylum, Charlie.” He said softly. “Or should I call you, Alex?” Furrowing his eyebrows, Charlie wondered why he had called him Alex.
When Kurt was 11 years old, his father passed away. Seeing as he'd already lost his mother at the age of 8, and there were no qualified and able members of his family to take him in, he was shipped off into the foster care system. After being passed between several families within the first year who for some reason or another couldn't keep him, he was finally settled into a home with a seemingly perfect married couple at 12 years old. However, just months into his stay there, the abuse started, both of a physical and sexual nature.
As part of what he learned later to be a coping mechanism, he began to experience periodic black-outs, coming to in strange places and finding out strange and uncharacteristic things he'd done that he had no recollection of.
At age 17, he finally worked up the courage to tell someone about the abuse he was experiencing. He was pulled from the home immediately and put through extensive mental evaluation, and it was discovered that on top of his severe PTSD and anxiety, he had developed 2 alternate personalities: the clingy, over-emotional, and somewhat childlike Taylor, and the cocky, flirtatious, and promiscuous Dominic.
Ships → Klaine, Kurtbastian, Kurt/male, Dominic/male, Dominic/female
Anti-Ships → Kurt as himself/female
Para Sample (In character, can be from a different roleplay) →
Going to school was next to impossible lately. The possibility of being touched or bumped into by random strangers was something Kurt could hardly bring himself to embrace. Not to mention the fact that he was blacking out more and more often as of late, and he never knew what kind of asinine things people were going to be saying to him the day after. But then he remembered that avoiding school meant staying at home, and suddenly it wasn't so unappealing.
Judging by the glares of the entire football team and half of the rest of the male student body as he walked into school, it had been one of those episodes. One where he came back and everyone was claiming he'd slept with or at least attempted to sleep with half the school. That was always confusing for him; he knew for a fact it couldn't be true, and he wasn't sure what he could have done that would make someone claim that it was. Other than the things that were done to him at home, he'd never come close to being with anyone in that way. He couldn't even imagine it, especially with girls. And yet, for the 5th time that semester, he walked through the halls among the whispers of which boys and girls he'd supposedly hooked up with, wishing he could remember exactly what he'd said or done that made them think that.
Anything else? → Nope, thanks for considering me *u*
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