Is it safe to come out yet?

Gemma Dawson Twenty-Seven Oneirophrenia

[gemma-dawson]

No!

[felix-lyndon-blog]

[Frightened, he mouths the words at first before fighting them out] I-I wo- I won’t hurt you. D-Do you need help?

[gemma-dawson]

-releases a blood-curling scream and starts kicking at nothing-

[gemma-dawson]

No!

[felix-lyndon-blog]

[gemma-dawson]

Please don't hurt me.

[cassiewardhfth]

No… I’m hollow… My skin is starting to rot away now too. 

[gemma-dawson]

Gross. How are you so sure?

[gemma-dawson]

No!

I--I didn't do anything! Leave me alone!

[cassiewardhfth]

My flesh rotting… 

[gemma-dawson]

What? Really?

Do you think you have parasites inside you?

[witncss-blog]

Smoke Break || Gemma & Aiden

[witncss-blog]

The voice was unfamilar; which was rare for the orderly who—because of his own disorder—was used to hearing the faux voices of those he helped in his own head on occasion. The face, however, was recognizable, yet Aiden was at a loss for finding a name to match it. She was a patient, he knew that much; and one of the many who had their own questionable habits. That he overheard from a few of the other orderlies in the dining hall on one of the rare nights he actually found himself partaking in a meal with them. 

”’Hey’ doesn’t exactly answer my question…” He brought the cigarette to his lips and dragged the smoke within, eyeing the patient before him curiously as he did so. With an exhale of smoke he continued; “But, hello.” 

As he took her in there was no denying that something was… off about her. She was fidgety, though not like the addicts. Willowy, yet nowhere near as lithe as the anorexics were. Aiden supposed the reason she was there had something to do with what was in her head. What was in there wasn’t so simple. 

"Shouldn’t you be at the dining hall?" The hand that held the cigarette between two nimble fingers reached up to idly scratch at the end of his eyebrow with its thumb. Blue smoke coiled up past his dark, unkempt hair. There was something about her just standing there that put him on edge, and he stretched out a long leg beneath the table to push out the chair that sat across from him to offer her a seat. "You don’t just have to stand there and stare at me. You can sit if you’d like, though I can’t promise much for conversation."

[gemma-dawson]

The compass must be really busted. There was no way this man could be a poltergeist. He was too lanky and cavalier like a cat. Then again, poltergeists could take on any form at any moment. The world was just full of mysteries, and sometimes, Gemma got tired of protecting everyone from them, but this was her mission in life. Now, if only she could wrack her brain for the proper procedures in dealing with these creatures. First thing's first, relax. Take a few deep breaths to calm the nerves and make sure to keep the blood flowing by keep the posture in tact. If anyone was going to get it, it was this guy. Next, sage. She grasped her locket to make sure that it was still there. Her grandmother had given her that locket, and she stuffed powdered sage into it to protect herself. Now for the incantations... There were a few she memorized, but they could only do so much as to flicker their connection with this world. But what more could she ask for?

She stared at him straight in the eyes and started muttering incantations. There was no time for a safety circle, so she had to go through with the direct approach. His image started to shift and twitch, like he wasn't really there. This inflated her confidence as she made her voice louder, repeating the same incantation over and over. This didn't stop him from smoking, but at least she could reveal his true form, right? The thing stared back at her unwaveringly, all to her dismay. It wasn't working. His image just shifted back to what it was after each set of incantations. 

Suddenly, she chair in front of him moved towards her with a screech. The thing was using its powers to manipulate the things around her and cause a ruckus. That wasn't very nice. It was a good thing almost everyone was in the dining hall. Another growl emerged from what seemed like nowhere, but she knew better now to know that it was just her stomach again. Why did she skip dinner for this? 

All the while he talked, the words just flew by one of Gemma's ears onto the next. The delusions were taking over now, and all she could see was a poltergeist out to get her. With a deep breath, she lunged at the man with all her might, making sure to get him to the ground. He was a full six inches taller than her, and this was difficult. Better to have tried than to have not. 

[shannon--hardy]

I-I don't want to be back here

[shannon--hardy]

W-What spirits?

[gemma-dawson]

I’m joking! I’m sure the bodies were all given a proper blessing and burial, right? Unless… I do feel them. Do you want me to go get my compass and tracker? Maybe they’re friendly.

[cassiewardhfth]

I don’t smell it either… maybe I’m just used to it by now..

[gemma-dawson]

Used to what?

[witncss-blog]

Smoke Break || Open

A light frost hugged the stained wooden beams of the Home’s back decking tightly, sparkling as it melted only where it met with the direct sunlight of early evening. Hidden in the patio’s corner, just where a row of tall windows ended to give way to stone wall was Aiden, sitting at one of the many wicker tables that littered the deck with their accompanying chairs in similar style. Among the items laid out on the table in front of him were an ashtray, his designated keyring that allowed him access to the Home’s many rooms, a cup of thick dark sludge that could only disguise itself as coffee if it included an obscene amount of additives such as sugar and milk, and an empty pack of cigarettes, the last of its contents currently resided between the long index and middle fingers of the orderly’s right hand. 

Every now and then his fingertips would roll the cotton-filtered end of the cigarette, itching to crush it, if only for the minute satisfaction of releasing a few nerves, and the sensation of destroying something so minuscule. A lazy sigh built up in his chest and slowly found its way out of his lips. This is what his life had come to. The only thing keeping him from destroying a wad of cotton was the fact that he knew it was the only thing keeping him at ease. It was the last cigarette before he would have to go out and buy more despite the fact that he knew he had to quit, what with the baby coming and all. Still, he found himself in the same place, this same place, every day at 5:35pm on the dot with another cigarette in his hand. It had become such a thing of sanctuary—a moment away from the madness—that he had actually looked forward to it. Realizing this, the young man had only one thing on his mind: when had things become so dull?

The act of seeing other patients out on the deck at that time of day was something of a rarity for some reason. Perhaps it had something to do with dinner being served in the dining hall. Regardless, this was why he could always count on it to be his hideaway if ever he needed space. But… today was not one of those days, he soon realized, as he heard the wooden boards of the decking creak under the weight of someone stepping near. Aiden hadn’t the patience to turn his head to see who had joined him, but rather swallowed his irritability, blew the smoke from the corner of his lips, and muttered a simple “can I help you?” 

[gemma-dawson]

To most of the residents, these halls held both wonderful and tragic memories. Being one of the new residents transferred in from West Harbour, nothing really phased Gemma at the moment. Sure, the place felt eerie and smelled weird, but it wasn't a foreign concept. It was the same mental ward that kept them all together. The living conditions were definitely better, but she didn't feel safe knowing that those out to kill her weren't wearing indicator bracelets. But really, if she was being honest, a lot of things were out to kill her. Better to live the moments than thinking about death. It was more pleasant.

 Her poltergeist compass was going haywire. She was starting to think it was busted. Most of the souls should have moved on by now, and if they didn't, she would at least find a way to live with them around. There were bigger fish to fry and a few ghouls just weren't going to be much of a threat if only to annoy her. With that in mind, the arrow finally settled about the glass doors. Outside. She wasn't very fond of outside. Inside she was safe--no, safer. One can never be too safe anywhere. Everyone was always on the brink of death, standing on a beam and just waiting for which side to fall. The only thing keeping her sanity was the small little compass that warned her of any supernatural presence. But why did it have to point outside? The things she had to do to protect the ungrateful ingrates in this loon house. 

A loud growl made her jump. It took her a while to realize that it had been her stomach. Was it time for dinner? She was never sure when the clock struck for each event in the day. Every time she would look at any device that was suppose to tell time, the numbers would get all boggled up. The same thing happened when she read something. The words would get jumbled up, and she would have to give up all together. 

The glass door squeaked as she slid it aside. The compass seemed to be pointing to the man by the decks; enjoying quite a leisurely smoke. He was definitely tall, but tonight, he looked like a sly cat. The moonlight made his sharp features prominent and his lazy posture almost beautiful. Normally, Gemma wasn't fond of smokers, especially when they went out of their way to kill their lungs (which was all the time, she might add). Tonight, though, he was a threat. The compass never seemed to fail her before, so how could now be any different? 

"Hey," she called. She should have brought her can of pepper spray. But that wouldn't do any good on a poltergeist. 

[annabelllewallis]

I am one of those annoying people who fall asleep as soon as they hit the pillow.

[winterinthedarkness]

Wow.

[winterinthedarkness]

Yeah, I guess they figured we lived well together.

[gemma-dawson]

That's good, that's good. That's wonderful, even! Why do we have smaller living quarters here?

[drjohnharkness]

If you haven't come to the infirmary since you arrived, please do so as soon as possible.

[drjohnharkness]

Because of my handy dandy badge.

I’m Dr.Harkness.

[gemma-dawson]

You could be dead but had your badge on you when you died, so here we are. 

[gemma-dawson]

Day 30 of Daily Character Development

And finally: Write a letter to your character, from yourself. 

Hello, Gemma.

You've made it so far with everything, and I really do hope you make more progress. I'm glad you now understand that hiding and avoiding socialization isn't helping you any. Healthy skepticism is good and all, but you've managed to turn into full-blown paranoia. I know you can't help it, and I understand. I hope you know that'll I'll be here for you whenever. Don't forget to take your medication and never stop painting. 

With love, 

Kimi

[gemma-dawson]

Day 29 of Daily Character Development

How does your character smell? Do they wear perfume or cologne? 

She smells like the ocean with all the salt and spices she sprinkles on herself. If not, then she smells like paint and wood. Her breath smells like coffee most of the time since she has a slight addiction for it.

[gemma-dawson]

Day 28 of Daily Character Development

If your character’s life was a genre, what would it be? 

Humor and tragedy, for sure. 

[gemma-dawson]

Day 27 of Daily Character Development

Pick two songs that describe your character at two different points of their life, and explain why you chose them. 

Alice by Avril Lavigne

With her condition, people would naturally assume that she should be kept in a tight bubble. But with everything all happening in her head, there would be no point to that. She's a very brave girl who is strong despite all the challenges she has to face every single day. She gets by when the world's crashing down, and when she falls and hits the ground. 

Brick By Boring Brick by Paramore

She can't help but be a little naive especially in the real world. She has always lived in this little bubble, and it's only getting worse as she gets older. 

'But it was a trick And the clock struck twelve Well make sure to build your heart brick by boring brick Or the wolf's gonna blow it down'

[gemma-dawson]

Day 26 of Daily Character Development

Second day of favorites! Favorite comfort food, favorite vice, favorite outfit, favorite hot drink, favorite time of year, and favorite holiday. 

Comfort food: Ice Cream

Vice: Incense sticks

Outfit: Dresses

Hot drink: Coffee

Time of the Year: Spring

Holiday: Thanksgiving