Orochimaru Yamata PhD

Orochimaru was a celebrated criminal psychologist whom is now in charge of the mental ward in Hinokuni General Hospital. It's as creepy as it sounds.~ [closed AU RP account]

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The State of Things :: Sasuke & Orochimaru

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Hospitals weren’t a walk in the park, especially for the patients. The rumors whispered in the halls were heard by all ears. Hatake Kakashi, a respected doctor who catered to the mental ward, having a break down. Orochimaru, snake-like man who was head honcho of the less than sane, being a sadistic ruler who liked to watch things squirm. No one was safe from curious idiots. Even people who kept to them selfs, like the captive Uchiha, couldn’t help but to hear about the capable hands he was in. 

Well fuck. 

This drove Sasuke mad. Not that he believed he was mad to begin with. Countless psychiatrist even said how he was feeling was normal. He didn’t even trust his life in his own hands, how was he supposed to trust it in men hired to keep him against his will? No, it was all insane. He knew the right course of action for his life, ending it. Who were these people having the decency to get in the way?

Pounding his fists into the bed, Sasuke creeped into the inviting sheets. Muttering to himself about lunacy. A nameless, faceless (as far as he was concerned) aid had told him to be in his room. To expect a guest. Just fantastic. He thought bitterly to himself. With his luck it would be the feared Orochimaru, here to experiment on his body. Maybe he will take my lips for Kakashi’s lip transplant…

Dragged out of his anxious musings, a man slithered into the room. His onyx orbs studied the foreign doctor, his tone sickening.“Shit. Who are you?” 

Sasuke sat up and tried to gain some form of composure. “-And what do you want?” Being in the hospital had caused him to lose some tact, not that he missed it. 

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"I am Dr. Yamata, the head psychiatrist here at Hinokuni, dear. I hadn't dropped by whilst you were ever conscious yet. Rude of me not to make your acquaintance." 

Orochimaru spoke in a velvet tone that was somehow bleak behind all of the sweetness poured into it. He had arched his brows and brushed over the rude greeting. No one was ever really happy to see him. He'd come to terms with this long ago and now found it kind of amusing.

"And how are you liking your accommodations?" Something else he always found amusing. He was required to ask knowing the answer was going to be negative and hostile. Patients weren't exactly here for the bedside service and breakfast. Of course they were going to vigorously hate it here. Sasuke seemed like he didn't need any help in the vigorous hate department. 

Orochi leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a  neutral smile on his face as he glanced the boy over. He was a positive time bomb of rage and roiling emotions, his tone full of resentment and his expression bitter.

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Congenial :: Gai & Orochi

Orochimaru was always in early if he had not slept at his desk. Frankly he had nothing better to do. He didn't get out much, he had no friends, his home was almost a mansion but was depressing in its large silent spaces. And so he came to work.

He all but strolled through the main entrance to the hospital. This was something he'd had to practice. He rather hated hospitals. And doctors. And all this situational irony. All matter of his pride aside, everything was a terrible sterile white in most places save pediatrics. To offset his matching skin tone Orochi had the psyche ward painted a warm gray. 

Speaking of pediatrics Orochimaru was suddenly blindsided by the appearance of the janitor, scooting across the lobby. His name was Gai and he was, with little doubt, one of the most enthusiastic human beings he'd ever met. While he secretly found this refreshing Orochi was largely uncomfortable with ...loud and social people. He usually tried to avoid the man but as he reached the front desk (waving superficially at the nurse already behind it) the man caught his eyes.

"Good morning." He said after a pause with an accompanying nod. Sometimes he could almost feel congeniality physically hurting him.

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The State of Things :: Sasuke & Orochimaru

Out of all the charges in Hinokuni's psyche ward something about Sasuke Uchiha intrigued Orochimaru to no end. A large part of it was the demented sense of irony he enjoyed. The Uchiha family had grated on his nerves since he was a boy, each one born with a gracious helping of arrogance at their disposal and no humility to speak of.

This is not to say Orochimaru wasn't arrogant: his ego could suffocate small whales. But it was something he earned over a lifetime of learning and suffering. Perhaps he hated them for taking family for granted. They certainly didn't have to worry about that anymore.

And now here was one of the last Uchiha trapped in this place, too arrogant to even let anything end his life but himself. Deemed dangerous to himself and others...That's what the forms said. That's what he signed off on.

The boy had witnessed the murder of his entire family at a young age, a more than acceptable reason to have some loose bats in the belfry. Orochimaru has seen worse, but there was something about Sasuke. He felt it a gross waste of potential for the boy to just snuff himself out like a candle in the wind. Perhaps he could be persuaded otherwise and so he was trapped in here with him and the rest of the loons.

He'd assigned Hatake to watch over him. Something amusing about the tragic leading the tragic to an unknown end. But today Orochimaru was slinking about the ward checking in on charges personally. He paused in a door frame and afforded a glance at the painfully stark plaque on the side. 

Uchiha S.

All but sliding into the dim room like a phantom Orochimaru put on a soft smile. 

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun. And how is the state of things today?"

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Your head doctor is in

brain readings, brain readings for everyone.

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Rounds

Orochimaru was in a good mood today, a diagnosis rare at such an hour. Perhaps it was just a fake elation in preparation to interact with his patients. The fake smiling would sometimes segue into a genuine lifting of spirits.

It takes a very specific type of person to be such a psychologist. To listen to the soul crushing Theben tragedies of the afflicted. Day in and day out, the worst of the worst: sorrowful products of disdainful environments not fit for animals nonetheless something so precious as the glass mind of a human child.

He could say it was because he understood emphatically what it is to be tragic that he was exceptional at his job. His childhood was a most dismal one that Freud would have a field day with... never a fan of Freud. Orochimaru felt himself above such a commonplace and dismissable stigma as to be written off with "Childhood trauma". While surely it was there he never acknowledged it as traumatic and lives a successful life despite it. He wasn't one to complain. 

Orochi knew better. He knew what made him fantastic at his job was his ability to manipulate logic. Logically patients wanted to feel safe and have a patriarchal figure that heralded healing. He was perfectly capable of faking that. It's not that he wasn't interested or wasn't concerned for their minds, he was. But there was a generous distance he kept from...well every human on the planet.

Distance was the key. From his observation getting attached to people only complicated everything. Getting attached to a large multitude of suffering minds sounding like a horrible idea. So his attachment was superficial. He'd care for his charges, listen and do his best to ease their suffering. That is all he is liable for. He had not gotten a hang of easing suffering being tacked onto the end of his responsibilities yet. As a criminal psychologist he mostly tracked down the extra special crazy ones and often weaponized their minds against them with little care given to their mental stability afterwards.

And who was he liable for this morning? He glanced down at the papers in his hands as he briskly strolled through the corridors, distracted in searching for a name and by the sound of his shoes on the tiles.

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Hinokuni Gen App

Desired character: Orochimaru (@ psychobabblesnake please)

Status [Doctor, intern, staff, patient]: Doctor, Resident Psychologist

Medical condition [For patients only, unless specified otherwise]: n/a

Biography: Orochimaru Yamata was a celebrated criminal psychologist. Despite his multiple dissertations and papers, his peers always assumed he was so good at his job because it takes crazy to catch crazy. And indeed there is something a bit off about Orochimaru beyond his jarring appearance. 

He ignores his own psychological baggage (of which there is a mountain of) and delights in the dissecting of others' minds. He does abuse his position of power over clients to feed his own control complexes. He is now Hinokuni's head resident psychologist to minimize the risk of being hunted down & murdered by clients as he gets on in age but is having a hard time coming to terms with the downgrade.

So hide yo chits, hide yo meds, he's abusin' all his power up in hurr.

Roleplaying sample [Three paragraph minimum]:

  Orochimaru sat bent over his illustrious desk with his temples in his hands. His curtains of long black hair fell free of the ties that usually bound it to hide his face and pool obsidian on the desk's surface. It had been a long day and most of the hospital was dark and quiet. Unfortunately things were never really quiet for Orochimaru. His mind was always alight with thoughts, reasons and prospects.

Usually his head was filled with the babbling of his patients. Their inane problems and incessant whining were welcome distractions from the most dangerous concrete typhoon that were his own problems. He was a professional of the highest caliber at deciphering the issues of others but was still too afraid of what he will find if he turned the same attention inward.

Sometimes it could not be helped. His mind made its own connections before going pleasantly numb: you're trying to take these pills for physical pain to drown out your mental pain. Luckily a few minutes later he stopped caring much what he thought. He delicately tucked his bottle of heavy narcotics back into their drawer in his desk, in the very back behind his ink and stamps. His rounds were over, his patients were sleeping, he had no one waiting for him anywhere. Orochimaru leaned back in his large chair and gazed at the moon for hours.