forum Mental Facility :/

Started May 20, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

Sylvan slowly turned the knob, "Herro~?" Okay. Clearly, to the nurses, he had been locked in his room because the personality he'd reverted to was insanely… hyper and random.

Vaughn hissed in pain as he felt the metal cuff slice deeper. “Come on,” he growled. His feet were against the wall, pushing himself out. The bed was bolted to the floor, but the frame was flimsy. If he pulled hard enough, maybe he could break it… It was difficult to pull, though, with his blood that coated the floor effecting his traction.

Kaz crept down the hallway, glancing over at Sylvan. He debated unlocking the door, but he decided he would walk around first. Why not tour the hell he had been thrown in? He padded down the hall, peering through a few of the windows. He passed one where someone seemed to be struggling on the floor, and he walked by before doing a double take. He peered into the window to find someone on the floor in a pool of blood. Oh. That didn't look pleasant

Lonan sat alone in his small white room, it looked so empty and emotionless, so dull and boring. Pulling his covers over his shoulder, he wished he could turn invisible and disappear from the world, like a leaf in the dead of winter, shriveling away until there was nothing left.

Vaughn pulled harder for a moment longer, hearing a creaking noise come from the bed frame. Giving one more hard tug, the flimsy bed frame cracked and snapped. He tumbled onto his back, a grin forming on his lips. “Fuck, yes!” He shouted, delighted to have a bit more room to move around. His clothes were stained with his own blood, but he didn’t seem to mind too much.

(He has multiple personality disorder and hears voices, will name which personality he is at the start of each post)

Feran:

Feran was in the white room again. Padded, soft, white. Lucy keeps telling him to hurt himself, but the jacket he is wearing prevents that. Tilting his head to the side, he looks up at the equally white ceiling. People come to take him out. Warmth is gone. Jacket was taken away. Crying, tears slipping like little bits of paper. The voices want him to hurt the men with the gloves. Feran doesn't want to hurt anyone. Feran doesn't want to be bad. Newbie in the hallway. Looks angry. Feran is afraid.

Awe! XD he and sylvan should be friends )

Sylvan retreated back to his bed. Like Feran, his personalities had names, but they were much less creative. His exasperatedly, insanely hyper persona was named, affectionately, Edgar. Edgar was harmless, unless being severely annoying and endlessly talkative was painful enough to be considered a wound. It was J.P. That was the violent personality; howver, J.P. only emerged in threatening situations.

Finding sleep had abandoned him to the room, he stood and walked over to the door, just hoping someone would be there and let him out.

(and I return)
Kaz's eyes widened as he watched the man wrench himself free from the bed. Damn. Maybe he shouldn't be standing outside of some guy who can break a bed frame's door? He didn't really care if the guy suddenly went mental and started trying to go for him or something, but he didn't think he had to worry about that. The other guy hadn't seen him yet, and he was still morbidly curious

Vaughn held his wrist close to his shirt to try and stop the decently heavy blood flow. He glanced around his room and walked over to a desk, shifting through the drawers. There was only paper inside, no pens or pencils. He wasn’t allowed to use those alone. The doctors and guards both thought that he would keep one and then try to stab someone later on. Not that they were wrong, he most likely would have. But he noticed something on the floor by the desk, his smile becoming more cunning as he picked up the bobby pin. He immediately assumed it was left there on purpose. The female nurses there were fond of him, as he was extremely polite to all of them. He used the bobby pin to get the cuff off his wrist and threw it onto the floor.

Kaz leaned towards the window a little, watching the kid take the cuffs off his wrists. Good, at least there was someone else competent enough to slip restraints around here. Maybe he could even get this guy to help him escape. He seemed to be loosing a lot of blood though, which probably wasn't a good thing. He glanced down at the bandages he used to cover his arms. Maybe he could give them to the guy as a 'please help me escape' gift?

Beating on the door, no one from the outside seemed to care to stop and see what was up. Giving up, Lonan walked back to his bed. He felt like a ghost, a ghost they only checked upon when the time was right or when they felt like it. Becoming extremely bored, he brushed back his hair and when to the small window that he deadly hated, it was so small and pointless, what was it's purpose?

Vaughn stuffed the bobby pin back into one of the drawers, thinking that it might be useful later. He finished looking through the rest of the drawers. He felt like he was being watched, and his head snapped towards the door to find someone standing at the window. He gave a dangerous, hostile look. “What the hell?”

Kaz smiled, waving at him through the window. He held up a bandaged hand, pointing to the wrap around his arm. "Do you want some?" he mouthed from behind the glass before trying to point to Vaughn's bloodied wrist

‘What are they up to?’ Lonan wondered as he saw a random fellow looking through the other window at the other side of the room. ‘And what is he up to?’ glancing down at the man that was messing with the chest.

Vaughn’s eyes sharpened at the smile the stranger gave him. How fake, a voice that didn’t sound like his own whispered in his head. He hummed in agreement to it before shifting his gaze to the bandages, then down to his wrist. It was bleeding pretty good. And he wouldn’t be let out again if someone gave him bandages. So, he shook his head.

'They look like their having a nice time.' He thought, laying his head on his hands, 'I'll like to have a nice time, but I don't :('

Kaz frowned. Why wouldn't he take the bandages? The idiot was bleeding out all over the place and he knew the asylum workers didn't care enough to check on anyone anytime soon. Making a decision he opened the door, slipping inside and shutting it quietly

(still open?
Name: Karmen Strickland
Gender: male
Personality: shy and jumpy, slow to trust, anxiety overloaddd
Appearance: dirty blonde hair, cold green eyes, tall, pale, usually has a half-smile on his face
Reason for being here: extremelyyyy Bipolar
Background(optional):
Other(Anything else you can think of): just got here?? idk)

Vaughn stepped back when the stranger stepped in. His hands were closed into tight fists as he gave a hostile expression. “Get the hell away from me,” he snapped in a sharp tone.

Kaz raised his hands. "Hey, calm your ass down. I'm here to help you because none of the employees here will," he said. Still keeping his hands in the air he slowly undid the bandages wrapped around his wrists. They revealed a multitude of uniform scars and half-fresh cuts, and their were small scratch marks and bruises around the wounds

“I don’t need you’re help,” Vaughn growled, eyes not leaving the man out of caution. Broken man, Finley. End his suffering and bash his head against a wall till it’s split open and the wall is splattered with gore, the whispers tempted. “You even think about touching me and I’ll crack your goddamn head open,” he said, repeating what the whispers told him.

"Okay, not touching you. I am helping you though because by the time the staff makes their rounds in, oh," he said, looking down at his wrist as though he were checking a watch, "12 hours you'll have bled out four hours prior." He finished taking the bandages off, throwing them at Vaughn before sitting cross-legged on the ground a few feet in front of the door

Vaughn looked down at the bandages, which had landed by his feet. His nose scrunched up in slight disgust. The stranger had those around his injuries. He was sure as Hell not pressing those dirty bandages to his own wrists. Who knows what kind of diseases the man has. “Why are you still here?” He snapped.

"Because I'd rather not smell you dead for six hours. I'm in the room two doors down and your nasty ass would stink up the entire corridor," Kaz said matter-of-factly

Vaughn scoffed sharply at that. What a wise guy. Come on, Finley. Hit him. Just once, the whispers demanded. And he most likely would have if the stranger was in reach.

Kaz reached into his pocket, pulling a small bottle of painkillers out of it. He rolled them over to Vaughn, an unreadable expression on his face. "Take those too. It helps, trust me," he said. Kaz didn't take them for his cuts, he had gotten used to that sort of pain. They were more of a crutch than anything at this point, other than the fact that they helped when he hadn't slept and his body hurt, or that he could sometimes get a little high off them if he was lucky

Vaughn looked down at the pill bottle, hesitantly snatching it up. He screwed the cap off, dumping at least 5 into his palm. He didn’t bother to look at the dosage label, or even if what he was really taking was pain killers. If it would take some of the edge off of his mind, then he would have taken the whole goddamn bottle. He popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He nudged the bottle back over before sitting on his bed.

Kaz didn't bother taking the bottle back. He stayed where he was, knowing that any sudden movements might set the man off. "You can keep the bottle if you want," he offered. He had three more where that came from, so it wasn't much of a loss