𝑰𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 ?
The Dissension Procedure is not therapy. It is not meditation. It is not healing. It is What is out there? Who am I after five o’clock? Do I have a dog? Do I believe in God?—a precise and irreversible surgery of the self. Under sterile lights and gloved hands, the mind is split cleanly in two: one consciousness is extracted, isolated, and assigned solely to the workplace. This new being is the Innie, born in an office chair, their first memory the soft whir of fluorescents and a voice saying, “Welcome to your first day.” The Outie is what’s left behind: they resume their life as if nothing happened, waking up after hours of blank space, unaware that another version of themselves has risen, filed, smiled, bled. The Outie lives a curated peace—sipping coffee, picking up dry cleaning, unaware their body was ever not their own. The Innie labors without rest or reward, made to move through endless days that never end.
Within the walls of the Volner Building, Innie life is ordered and quiet—eerily so. They recite slogans like mantras. They smile when spoken to. They eat pre-portioned lunches and thank their managers for flavorless gelatin. Most accept their role without protest, stripped of memory, emotion, and context. But some—some feel the fracture. They dream of oceans they’ve never seen. They hear laughter in their bones. They weep without understanding the shape of their grief. Forbidden thoughts, labeled “unauthorized cognitive drift,” begin to take root: Do I have a family? What does my bedroom look like? Does anyone love me out there? These thoughts echo in hallways, linger in the corners of their minds like mildew beneath wallpaper. A longing not just to escape—but to know. And in a system engineered to erase that hunger, knowing becomes an act of rebellion.
The rumors, of course, have grown with the silence. Some say the split can be undone—not in the labs that created it, but out there, beyond company reach. In half-lit motel rooms with buzzing neon. In basements lined with stolen servers. Through whispered instructions passed from one trembling hand to another. Former technicians, rogue Outies, and vanished whistleblowers have built black-market procedures meant to fuse what should have never been divided. Some who’ve undergone the reversal speak in riddles now—struggling to carry the weight of both lives at once. Others spiral into madness. One woman reportedly clawed her face apart in a motel sink. Another walked straight into the ocean, whispering her Innie’s name. And yet… the whispers persist. For those who have tasted the cage and sensed the key just out of reach, wholeness—no matter how dangerous—is the only thing left worth wanting. Even if it kills them.
𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕.
THE HOUSE OF DISSENT is an original, psychological horror, drama, and political roleplay set in a retrofuturist 2028, where identity has become a product, obedience a prescription, and silence the only permitted rebellion. Inspired by Severance, Succession, The Sims, and Control, it explores corporate surveillance, manufactured realities, and the ghost-like aftermath of partitioned lives. The aesthetic is mid-century modern gone sterile: sleek chrome, synthetic smiles, and cocktail parties hosted beneath the glare of hidden cameras. Centered around profound character evolution, embracing dark narratives, intricate personal journeys, immersive world-building, and transformative plot developments designed to challenge your character and reshape the very fabric of their reality. This world is curated to the point of collapse, built on a foundation of inherited power, manipulated memory, and the slow, aching horror of being erased while alive. More information will be declassified on May 18th. Until then—remember your place, repeat your mantras, and above all else: we’re happy to be here.
LIKE THIS OR REBLOG FOR EXCLUSIVE ACCESS TO THE FULL PLOT & FIRST DIBS ON ROLES !
origamiaround
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
dailybridgerton
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
baratheonpilled
