she's out of control, so beautiful

Patricia Halloway, seventeen, deceased, currently residing in the Murder House. (independent roleplay)

[twisted-trish-blog]

[twisted-trish-blog]

i'm moving accounts. I'm not really having much success with Trish, she was originally from my group roleplay and she's not the same without her relationships which she'd formed within that roleplay so i'm not really feeling it. BUT i'm doing an AHS indie roleplay again as Taint Langdon (read the about me for an explanation of his name, i'm not just some wannabe AHS fan who spelt Tate wrong). I'll post a link here in a second, he's gonna be fun. 

[twisted-trish-blog]

[psychotic-little-langdon-deacti]

Tate laughed, nodding. “Uh..sure.” He took her hand, grinning. 

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(✙)— A laugh escaped her at his dancing and she shook her head slightly, "Oh god-, i take back my offer." she teased, still laughing.

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[psychotic-little-langdon-deacti]

I don’t know. I guess shes busy, my mom hardly lets her out anyway.

[twisted-trish-blog]

(✙)-- "Huh... Well, enough of this sad family stuff..." Trish got to her feet, walking in a slow circle around her room before stopping to press the play button on the stereo. "Dance with me?" she dared with a grin.

[twisted-trish-blog]

[twisted-trish-blog]

Jamie sighed,”How did you die? I died from my mother stabbing me and my sister in the heart 24 times.” She sounded like this was usual. Her mother was a fucking cock sucking stripper. She hated her. She never ever liked her. They said when she came out of her mother she spit on her. But maybe that was just a myth. She bit her lip and looked at the girl.

(✙)— Trish raised on eyebrow, mildly impressed, "hardcore." she praised with a slight nod. "My mom hated me too, she locked me in the attic for four years, told all of my friends that i'd died in a car crash. She probably would have killed me if i hadn't beaten her to it. I cut my calves with a letter opener until i felt dizzy and then i shot myself through the heart for good measure. I hope she had a goddamn heart attack when she saw the mess." The last part was growled harshly and her eyes darkened as she said it.

[twisted-trish-blog]

[jamiefringe-deactivated20130108]

Jamie was lurking through the house again. She felt like crap, as usual. Her sister was in the basement with Beau. Her sister, Massie and Beau get along well. While here, Jamie had no one besides Nora. She walked around and saw a girl. Maybe her age. She didn’t know. “Hey, I’m Jamie Fringe. I’m dead, you?” She wasn’t good with talking to people.

[twisted-trish-blog]

(✙)-- The sound of a feminine voice startled Trish for a brief second before she pulled herself together. It was the house. It had made her so much more jumpy than she usually was. She looked at the girl stood in front of her, "Subtle." she said sarcastically though she smiled. "I'm Trish. Also dead."

[twisted-trish-blog]

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Tate smiled as he heard the blaring of Nirvana from the speakers in the dining room. He walked down the stairs from his room, thinking it was Violet. As he approached the dining room, he turned the corner to see a wave of blonde hair flowing behind the chair. He walked slowly around her to get a view of her, and saw an unfamiliar face. “Who are you and what are you doing here..?”

(✙)-- Trish jumped slightly at the sudden presence of the male and she adjusted her position so that she could look at him. Evidently she wasn't who he was looking for. It seemed that everyone in that damn house was looking for anyone but her. Or maybe they were all looking for the same person. "I could ask you the same thing." she replied silkily, "I'm Trish. I live here. And you are..?"

[shrinkinggvi0let]

[twisted-trish-blog]

✾ || “Smart kid,” She grinned, “Even if I was alive, i’d be pretty immune to that sort of shit by now. Ghosts are pretty much a cakewalk.” For some reason, she felt slightly sad when she thought about her time in the house when she was alive. It had been hectic from start to finish - putting it extremely lightly. “As fun as they come, I hear they even give out free cake on weekends.” She laughed with her, her mood brightening substantially.   

“I guess if you didn’t count the time when I was alive, not long I think. I’ve quit counting the months. This used to be my home. Living, breathing home.” She sighed, “What about you then?”

  (✙)-- "True.." she agreed, "But you never know, you might have been a newbie. I haven't been out long enough to learn who's dead and who's the fresh meat." It was true. Back in the day, Trish knew everyone who lived in the house, she knew every going on there ever was, but now she was having a hard time catching up on what she'd missed. "Ooh!" she exclaimed with a laugh, "I'll be sure to be at the next meeting then."

"Well that all depends on what year it is right now..." she pondered for a brief moment. How much time had passed since she'd gone into hiding a few years after her death? Days? Months? Years? It felt like years to her but maybe that was the fault of the house. "I died in 1986."

[briartate-blog]

[twisted-trish-blog]

Tate ran a hand through his messy hair, momentarily irritated that in this place, he wasn’t even trusted with a comb to groom himself. He shook his head at her question, running his tongue over his teeth. No therapy, no inclusive eating, no cell with a view, not until everyone in Briarcliff had a chance to read his vile and whisper about him. How little they understood.

“Not me, nope. I mean, you probably guessed—I’m considered “dangerous”. I guess they’re worried about me freaking out in a session or something. If you’re not busy then, we could hang out. Nothing better to do.”

Just hanging out, Vi. Tate’s thoughts swelled and shrank against his brain. She’s not you. You’re my girl, I haven’t forgotten.

(✙)— She shrugged slightly as he suggested that she may have guessed he was dangerous. She had, but on instinct, not because she'd heard rumors about him. There was just something about the vibe he gave, the way his eyes seemed unfocused every now and then, as though he was elsewhere, it made alarm bells ring in her head, but maybe it took one to know one. "I've noticed the glances." she admitted, looking around at the odd stares he was getting simply by talking to her. Although maybe they were aimed at her. She wasn't sure.

Trish hesitated for a brief second at his offer before nodding with a small smile, "Sure. I'd like that. I can't promise i won't get dragged off half way through though." she teased. "D'you smoke?" she asked, knowing fully well that she could get her hands on a pack of cigarettes, she'd been saving them for a while but she figured now was as good a time as any to use them. They were a contraband of course, Trish wasn't allowed cigarettes, maybe because they were worried about her burning other patients with them.

[twisted-trish-blog]

(✙) Trish wandered through the house, barely making a sound. Her boredom was killing her as usual, all she wanted was for something to actually happen. Something dramatic. Maybe someone could get killed, she didn't care what it was, as long as it was entertaining. But for now, she would have to divulge herself further in her boredom. She walked to the dining room before pressing the switch on the stereo. Nirvana blasted through the room. She was a fan but it wasn't her CD, she wondered whose it was for a brief moment before shrugging indifferently and taking a seat at the far end of the large wooden table in the center of the room, her head tilted back with her neck propped up by the back of the chair, her eyes on the ceiling with her hair representing a blonde river.

[shrinkinggvi0let]

[twisted-trish-blog]

✾ || ”Trish.” Violet repeated with a slight pause, she tried to hide it but she was quite excited at the prospect of possibly befriending this girl. She seemed interesting, and quite similar to Violet. However, Violet couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the girl’s words, ”Dead? No shit, Sherlock.” She laughed, swiveling on her heel and slowly walking a few inches from where she had previously stood; casually sitting herself down upon the creaking floorboards and gesturing for Trish to do the same. “Welcome to the club?” She joked.

(✙) Trish shrugged, "Well i wasn't sure. I mean, i've got to be careful. Wouldn't want to freak you out." she teased with a small smirk. She slowed her pacing before coming to a stop and taking a seat cross-legged in front of Violet after she'd gestured for her to do so. "Thanks. It's an honor to be a part of it. It's a fun club." she laughed softly. 

"How long have you been here?"

[asaisthebest-deactivated2016022]

Kissing Jimmy Bennett in Movie 43! <3

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[womanisboss]

[sad-plath]

[briartate-blog]

[twisted-trish-blog]

“Yeah, I keep to myself a lot.” Tate’s drawled, some semblance of a smile dancing on his lips. If Violet said she was okay, then he could be nice, right? He could smile, he could talk to her and they could smoke together sometimes, he needed a friend he could see, a friend that didn’t disappear when the pills slid down his throat—

You touch her, she dies. If I want it, you’ll do it. Those are the rules, Tate. You agreed to them the first time I came to see you, remember?

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Trish. Not a lot of people talk to me unless they have to. You have a therapy session today?”

(✙)— Trish found herself smiling back at him for a moment before she realized what she was doing and bit her lower lip in attempts of wiping it away. The thing was though, she didn't want to stop her brief smile. She wanted to remember what it was like to smile again. She didn't want to be alone anymore. But she wouldn't let her get a ahead of herself. "Yeah', it's nice to meet you too... Why's that?" The last part of the sentence escaped her without her meaning it to and she shook her head slightly, realizing that it was similar to her last question. "Forget it." 

"I'm not sure." she replied, "They like to spring them on me. They don't usually tell me if i have a session in advance." For a good reason. Trish's disorder came out to play if she ever felt trapped, which she would if she wasn't dragged into that room kicking and screaming with an element of surprise.

"How about you?"

[briartate-blog]

[twisted-trish-blog]

Tate’s hands came together, fingers curling and twisting against each other, mimicking the way his insides churned when the question was breathed into life, what exactly had the little murder boy done? On paper, it was manslaughter, and it was blood and lives lost and flowers at funerals, but on the walls of his heart? It was a first date with his only love. How could he explain it, how would he put into words what had been rewritten so many times already.

“Oh, you don’t wanna know that. Might not want to sit with me. But I won’t like, hurt you.”

I only hurt who she tells me to.

“Anyway, I’m Tate. Have I seen you before, maybe in the dining hall? I don’t feel like I know your name.”

(✙)— Curiosity sparked deeper in the depths of her mind as he wouldn’t tell her what he’d done but she said nothing, allowing her mind to race at the possibilities. Maybe she wouldn’t want to know, maybe she would fear him, but Trish herself was trying to dance with a few demons on her back and no one in the world could argue that she was innocent. Her hands were stained with the blood of many. But here, she was nothing more than a seventeen year old girl who roamed the halls like a ghost, no matter what she’d done in the past, she wouldn’t do it again. Not at Briarcliff. She couldn’t say she wanted to go through ECT yet again and forget her own name.

Yet there was a strong voice in the back of her mind that thought defiantly “i’d like to see you try.” as he said he wouldn’t hurt her. The rest of her mind took solace in it however, deciding that she could take his word. 

“Maybe. I don’t usually go much further than here and my room but they force me to eat sometimes.” she shrugged though the memory of her skinny body being dragged to the dining room after days of following her usual rotation (room, common room, room, common room…) with no food was still fresh in her mind. She’d barely even noticed that she was starving herself to death. She didn’t want to be a bother. She didn’t want to be punished for getting in people’s way. “I’m Trish. I don’t think i’ve seen you around before either.”