#tnarp

[releasexthexpigeons]

OOC

Because I was kicked out of a RPing group for a stupid ass reason, this is going to just be a multi verse independent RP blog! Anyone is free to RP with me! Message me and let me know if you are interested.

[dr-janefoster-blog]

[luckyabigail-blog]

It was early one morning at the asylum, and Lucky was one of the only patients awake. For the most part, the only ones who were awake at this time were others like her who suffered from sleeping disorders. Lucky was actually thankful for that, because it meant she didn't have to fight her way through the cafeteria for a table during breakfast or for a seat in the rec center if she wanted to read or watch television before therapy started.

She sat now in the cafeteria, crunching on a spoonful of Rice Krispies while skimming through a gossip magazine. She had never been too preoccupied with the lives of celebrities even when she was still at home, but it gave her something new to read since she'd exhausted herself re-reading all of the books she'd brought with her and the asylum's book cart didn't come around for another couple of days. The magazines were always updated to the most recent subscriptions, and kept in the rec center for entertainment purposes. Lucky felt she may as well take advantage of that.

[newsiesasylumrp]

Reilly O'Connor

Welcome Reilly! :)

OOC name and age: Brooklyn, 21

Timezone: Central Daylight

Character name: Reilly O’Connor

Patient or doctor?: Patient

Diagnosis (patients only): Chemical dependency (heroin addiction), depression

Faceclaim: Matthew Lawrence

Age: 18

Bio(5+ sentences): Reilly’s parents died during a house fire when he was just a baby and he was placed into his grandmother’s care. Despite his loss, he had a fairly happy life, growing up and starting school with all of the other kids his age and making lots of friends. He was always a bit quiet, but he had a big heart and got along with almost everyone. However, when Reilly was eight years old, his grandmother had a stroke and died shortly afterward in the hospital. Reilly, left with no one, was torn away from all of his friends and what was left of his life and taken to a foster home on the other side of the city.

At first, Reilly was very unhappy. He wouldn’t eat, he was unable to sleep, and he completely stopped talking, spending all of his time locked in his room and wishing he could be anywhere but there. For years, he was taken from one foster home to the next, never allowing himself to get close to anyone because he knew if he made any friends that they would be separated in the end, but when Reilly was fourteen, all of that changed.

He was taken to a new foster home and told it would be the last time he was moved for a while, so he settled in, hoping that was true. One day, he was outside doing a few chores when he met Violet, a thirteen year old girl who lived next door to his new foster home. They became friends very quickly, and Violet slowly but surely drew Reilly out of the shell he had been living in for the past six years. She was unbelievable, and when he was fifteen he finally summoned the courage to ask her out. They dated happily for two years, but then something went terribly wrong. A few weeks after Violet got her driver’s license, her father finally agreed to let her take the car. She and Reilly left to go to the movie theater, but they never made it that far. As they drove through an intersection, a drunk driver ran the red light and t-boned the car on Violet’s side. Reilly lost consciousness and when he came to, he saw Violet, bleeding heavily from various injuries. He tried to awaken her, but she wouldn’t budge. As sirens blared in the background, Reilly held Violet close to him, feeling the very life slip out of her. She was gone before the ambulance made it to the scene, and Reilly completely shut down. He was taken to the hospital and, later, back to the foster home, where he stayed in his room, just as he had when his grandmother died. Every ounce of happiness he had known in the past three years he’d spent with Violet was gone. Then one day as he was walking home from school, some guys from his class offered him something, saying it would make him feel better. Not caring about anything anymore and wanting desperately to escape the pain, Reilly took it. It gave him a sort of rush, but more importantly, it distracted him and made him unable to feel anything. It was heroin, and he had soon made a habit out of it, shooting up every time he started to feel again. After about a year of this, his foster parents found out, sending him to the asylum and refusing to have anything to do with him until he quit.

Character Tumblr URL: Reilly-oconnor.tumblr.com

[justawalkingmouth-blog]

David sighed. It was all that had come out of his mouth since arriving at the asylum the day before. Just sighs.

He sat outside at a red metal lunch table, watching some of the physical therapy sessions. This week involved soccer, apparently. He watched the trainers teach different types of kicks to the patients, while two doctors stood off to the side and wrote down their little notes on clipboards. It was like a movie, and David actually caught himself looking around for any cameras. He secretly hoped this was just a gag from his parents, and they had gotten him onto some show like Punk'd. Any second now some halfway-forgotten celebrity looking for more attention would jump out and scream something along the lines of "David Jacobs, you've been fooled!"

But it didn't happen. Slightly disappointed, David sighed again.

[luckyabigail-blog]

Lucky felt herself eying the other patients over the top of her book from where she sat cross-legged in a comfy chair in the rec room, her wild red hair hiding her gaze. She hadn't been in the asylum very long - maybe only an hour or two, tops - but she'd been ready to get out of there since before she even stepped foot inside.

She'd been given a private room, after the orphanage director and her psychiatrist had informed the asylum doctors about her night terrors, which involved screaming, throwing objects, and could even be as severe as physical harm like slamming her hands against walls or clawing at her face, all while sleeping. She was actually thankful for this; she didn't know if she could tolerate being alone in a room with someone else, not in this place. She was still wary and slightly terrified of the whole experience.

[newsiesasylumrp]

Welcome David! :D

OOC name and age: Tellie, 20 Timezone: Central Character Desired: David Jacobs Real name chosen for this character: D... David Jacobs? How character got his nick name: David doesn't like nicknames. Back story (how he/she got put in the asylum): David Jacobs had always paid more attention to detail than his classmates and friends while growing up. Being such a perfectionist, David tended to throw himself into his work in order to get it exactly right. When his projects, homework assignments, or what have you didn't live up to his standards, David would fall into a deep depression. He befriended an older boy at his high school and ended up in trouble after they were caught shoplifting from a nearby mall. David hated being in trouble - after all, a perfect son wouldn't shoplift, wouldn't disappoint his parents, wouldn't get involved with someone who would lead them to trouble, etc. - and felt himself slipping into his depression again. He began to feel like a failure, and his grades even began to fall. Worried about their son, David's parents sent him to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed him with depression and an inferiority complex stemming from feeling like the disappointment child. She also hinted that David had had OCD all these years, though now he focused on details more on small details rather than schoolwork or life goals, and the more he focused on the smaller things the harder it would be for him to get out of it. She recommended that the Jacobs' send David to a mental health clinic - an asylum - in another part of New York, where he could receive help for his illnesses. They complied, though David doesn't see the asylum as something beneficial to him... he sees it as somewhere for his parents to hide their problem son. Faceclaim: David Moscow Sample(two paragraphs long, third person POV can be from another RP): (Just going to use the same one I made for Abigail .___.) Abigail closed her book - Alice in Wonderland - and sighed. It was one of her favorites, but today it didn't hold the same appeal as it normally did. She glanced around her room, which was now completely bare save for two small bags against the wall near the door. She was leaving for that "mental health and rehabilitation center" in half an hour. The phrase left a terrible taste in her mouth. "Just call it an asylum, a looney bin," she had spat at the psychiatrist two days before when the news was broken to her. "Quit trying to make it sound like you're doing me a favor. You're locking me up." The other children in the orphanage who normally stared at her and whispered to each other - "That's her, her dad killed her mom," "She's from a psycho family," "She screams and throws things in her sleep, that's why she doesn't have a roommate" - now wouldn't even look at her, as if they were afraid her crazy was contagious. When she had first arrived when she was 14, some of the children had told her how "lucky" she was to have survived. Abigail didn't consider herself "lucky." Her parents were dead and her brother was somewhere in Maine. She didn't even have a way of contacting him; all she knew was that his new parents didn't want her, and now she was alone. She had no friends, no family, nothing. And now she was being sent to an asylum, as if she were broken. "Lucky." She scoffed at the thought, throwing her book at her bags. URL: justawalkingmouth.tumblr.com

[newsiesasylumrp]

Welcome Lucky! :D

OOC name and age: Tellie, 20 Timezone: Central Character name: Abigail "Lucky" Chanceux Patient or doctor?: Patient Diagnosis (patients only): PTSD, Parasomnia/Night-Terrors, Claustrophobia Faceclaim: Jane Levy Age: 16 Bio(5+ sentences): Everyone knows the Chanceux family. They were a seemingly perfect family in Connecticut whose relatives had come over from France way back in the 1800s. The father, a successful news reporter for the local news station, and the mother, the typical housewife with the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe. Their young son Trent was a soccer star and their teenage daughter Abigail was a talented piano player and ballet dancer. Everything seemed perfect. Until Halloween night two years ago. Mr. Chanceux lost his job, and the stress - plus previously hidden marital problems involving a suspected affair between his wife and neighbor - made him snap. He showed up at the news station with his hunting rifle, killing both his fellow news anchor and the show producer. Slipping out of the building before cops arrived, he sped home. Mr. Chanceux shot his wife in front of his children and locked them in the pantry while authorities surrounded the house. A ten hour standoff ended after Mr. Chanceux committed suicide. The cops released Trent and Abigail to an orphanage in New York, having no living relatives, and Trent was adopted by a singleless couple. They weren't interested in adopting Abigail, due to her age, so she was left at the orphanage, where the other children nicknamed her "Lucky" due to her survival of the shootings. At first Abigail hated the nickname, but over time she grew to respond to it and even somewhat like it, especially when she discovered that her last name, Chanceux, was French for "lucky." Abigail was diagnosed by court psychiatrists as having post-traumatic stress disorder, experiencing several flashbacks of the incident and panicking any time she encountered guns or was locked in a room (which also developed into severe claustrophobia). Abigail also suffered from night-terrors, reliving the shootings in her sleep, and tended to get angry easily. The orphanage attempted to deal with her problems and help her as best they could, but eventually they refused to exhaust any more resources on her troubles and had the court condemn her to the asylum. Sample (two paragraphs long, third person POV can be from another RP): Abigail closed her book - Alice in Wonderland - and sighed. It was one of her favorites, but today it didn't hold the same appeal as it normally did. She glanced around her room, which was now completely bare save for two small bags against the wall near the door. She was leaving for that "mental health and rehabilitation center" in half an hour. The phrase left a terrible taste in her mouth. "Just call it an asylum, a looney bin," she had spat at the psychiatrist two days before when the news was broken to her. "Quit trying to make it sound like you're doing me a favor. You're locking me up." The other children in the orphanage who normally stared at her and whispered to each other - "That's her, her dad killed her mom," "She's from a psycho family," "She screams and throws things in her sleep, that's why she doesn't have a roommate" - now wouldn't even look at her, as if they were afraid her crazy was contagious. When she had first arrived when she was 14, some of the children had told her how "lucky" she was to have survived. Abigail didn't consider herself "lucky." Her parents were dead and her brother was somewhere in Maine. She didn't even have a way of contacting him; all she knew was that his new parents didn't want her, and now she was alone. She had no friends, no family, nothing. And now she was being sent to an asylum, as if she were broken. "Lucky." She scoffed at the thought, throwing her book at her bags. Character Tumblr URL: luckyabigail.tumblr.com