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Welcome to Fairways – Please take a seat.
We fully appreciate that you are not insane. Please, do not spit on our members of staff. We only want you to wear these special jackets so that you feel more at home. No, Jane, that is not a rabid koala. Please, stay calm. Your candy will be served promptly at 8am, and again at 3pm and 9pm. Lights go out at 10pm. This is simply to assure that your stay will be peaceful, and that no one will disturb you. Liam, please get down from there. If you have any troubles, any at all, please keep them inside your head until our resident psychiatrist has time to deal with your addled brains. Which will be sometime next tuesday. Or so he said four thursdays ago.
We hope you enjoy your stay, Fairways Management and Moderation Team
Hi, I'm Kirstie. I'm 20 and I think up sites about asylums. This is because i'm crazy, but you'll get used to me, don't worry. Worry makes me twitch. aha. Kidding. But seriously, you'd be crazy not to join this site, we've got a lovely bunch of coconuts here. They'll get attached to you and you'll never be able to leave, even if you wanted to. Which you wont. So join the parade! Let's have some insane fun and if you're very good i'll let you hold a peanut. Why? because I heard it's fun. I designed the layout and graphics for this forum, I hope you like it. Feedback is always appreciated, though, no i dont intend to put sideboxes up. Too overdone.
Eternus Truth RPG « Result #1 on Oct 7, 2009, 6:16pm »
Centuries ago there were five great enchanters. Aries, Castor, Pollux, Scorpius, and Leo. They made five objects of enormous power, known as relics.
For centuries the Great Divide has been sufficient to separate the northern lands of Banyuk from the southern lands of Satus. But now envy, hate, myth, and suspicion cross this physical boundary and the nations are on the verge of war.
Tempted by rich rewards, self greed, and perhaps benevolence, treasure hunters and adventurers of all kinds are racing to claim the Relics. All able-bodied men are being drafted into the armies of their nations, being forced to leave their loved ones and families behind.
The elves remain secluded in the far west, in their forest and mountain temple, as the land around them deteriorates. The dwarfs pursue their own mysterious agenda as they emerge from millenniums of isolation.
Demons are emerging from their haunts to terrorize the land and creatures of benevolent will try vainly to fight them back. Innocent blood is spilled deadly and citizens of all lands are cast in fear, suspicion, and doubt.
In this land of darkness, what will your path be? Will you hope for the times to change? Will you fight? Or, like many others, will you search for the truth?
toby is always happy. he simply doesn't do sad. somewhere along the line when he was growing up, someone forgot to mention that it was okay to let the happiness slip once in a while. the closest he gets to any other emotion is frustration at the weird feelings in himself that he can't express: sadness, anger, apathy. he always cares, even if it's nothing to do with him. he'll be the first to come and hug you even if he's never met you before. he's capable of happiness, frustration and fear, though fear quickly flickers to a sort of numb, dreamy look where he tries to convince both himself and the other person that it's just a game and that he was 'got good'. even if he's hit, beaten black and blue or hurt, he'll just say he didn't like that game and can they please not play it again? it's almost impossible to phase him, he'll keep coming back for more whether you want him to or not. he can be slightly irritating because of this.
History:
toby was born as the youngest child to marianne and harold granger, one of two. his elder sister, sasha, was born deaf, so it was second nature to toby to learn sign language. he speaks it as fluently as he speaks english. his parents called him their bundle of joy because he was always happy, even as a baby; he's highly intelligent but lacks any kind of common sense at all, to the point of barely being able to function on his own. even when you think he isn't listening, he probably is; though he'll be happily painting away or writing stories - happy ones, of course. he didn't do sad; ever.
this would all be perfectly normal if it wasn't for one thing. just over a year ago, toby's sister passed away in a very violent and traumatising way, which toby had to witness. tired of her disability, she spiralled into a pit of self loathing which her parents put down to teenage angst, but she told toby it was more. he did his best to cheer her up, but he couldn't stop her from hacking at her arms and taking up with the bad crowd from school. he watched her as she took a badly cut dose of heroin and had a reaction, thinking he'd lost her then only to be relieved when she pulled through. unfortunately, she then refused to pay for that bad batch of heroin and the dealer was not amused. toby hid in his cupboard, quiet and scared as a mouse as he watched his sister being stabbed repeatedly to death. that was the very last night he ever cried properly. he was sad for a few days, then realised his parents needed him, and put on a happy face - a face he hasn't taken off since. his parents told him it was okay to cry - he smiled and said he didn't know what they were talking about.
it was clear their little bundle of joy had developed problems showing emotion other than happiness, but what they couldnt figure out was why - it was more than the average trying to be happy for his parents, he just couldn't. he spoke brightly at his sisters funeral, not shedding a tear; he laughed in his counselling meetings. they were all entirely baffled, but willing to carry on with it til he healed in his own time until the mania set in. toby would stay up all night, too hyped up to sleep, only to crash on the floor or wherever he happened to be when his body just couldn't take anymore. he was a morning person, a night owl, athletic to the extreme - he just couldn't stop moving, his speech became erratically fast and he twitched every time he stood still.
terrified by their sons behaviour, worried he was going to kill himself through this nonstop activity, his parents sent him here because they heard it was the best. compared to the other inmates here, toby is totally innocent - he's a virgin and he wouldn't hurt a fly, ever.
Hair Color: brown/blonde Eye Color: brown Extras: n/a Celebrity/Model Picture: Celebrity/Model Name: christofer drew Other Details:
Gabriele DeVia « Result #6 on Sept 10, 2009, 6:51am »
Name: Gabriele Santino DeVia Nickname(s): Gabe Age: nineteen 'Illness:
bullimia anorexia heroin addiction delusions
Gender: Male Birthday: 13/5/1990 Personality:
Gabriele is fidgety and easily irritated, quick to attack and has a vicious tongue when needed. He has been known to hit people for just looking at him the wrong way, usually when he is exhausted from lack of sleep, not eating and living off of caffeine. he is dedicated to his brother, determined to be the best brother possible to make up for the time they've lost. he wont let anyone get in the way of being with alessandro. granted his ideas of being together are a little messed up, but sex=love to gabriele, it's only what comes naturally to him. he is tormented by his past but is determined to have people remember him, not as that italian whore orphan, but as a good person who overcame their troubles. he is obsessed with the thought that this world is simply 'the matrix' and he will be given his second chance when he escapes it.
History:
gabriele devia was born in the backstreets of rome, italy, quite literally. his mother, a heavily pregnant fifteen year old prostitute (child prostitution was common in italy in those who looked old enough and were unfortunate enough to gain 'masters'. his mother was carrying twins, the two children grew up together in a very cruel orphanage, with sour faced women to care for the bastard children, the pregnancies the master would not allow to interfere with his whores work. any one of the women in that orphanage could have been gabriele's mother, he had no idea. when he was growing up, it simply wasn't important. Gabriele was 5 years old the first time he was abused, the master bundling a burly man into his bedroom in the middle of the night and forcing him to perform sexual acts on him. his first experience of sex was aged 10, with a small woman who pretended to be nice to him then beat him afterwards with a poker and called him filthy. Somehow, he managed to keep this a secret from Sandy, who he hoped to keep safe from the abuse. it was around this time that Gabriele took an interest in swords and was allowed, in return for his continued prostitution, to take lessons - after all, he could pay his own way. he threw himself into the distraction, becoming instantly good at his new hobby. the teacher was so impressed that she put him forward for his first major competition when he was just 13 years old. he came second on account of the fact he secretly had taken a beating and been raped by his master the night before for daring to set the competition up in the first place. His failure to impress quickly ruined his one chance of escape. He came back a few weeks later to find a note from Alessandro, stating that he was gone but he couldn't say where or they would find him, but that he hoped he got out too and when he did, he would be waiting for him. the note had contained a small set of numbers, their code, a forwarding address which gabe stuffed inside a locket he was allowed to wear. to begin with, he shut out the pain of losing his twin, going back to his life of prostitution with only the barest pain in his eyes. it wasn't until one night, when he was almost fourteen, he was lying in bed with two of the older female whores who were taking pity on him after he had taken a serious beating, that he found an escape. one of them tied his arm, slipping a needle into his veins and then he was free, safe where they couldn't touch him. the matrix was on tv and suddenly he understood, he knew that was the truth; he had to escape this, his personal matrix. that was where sandy would be, why he had been forced to write in code. it all made much more sense. he could do anything when he was high, and no one cared anyway - it gave him less money to escape on and more versatility when he was fucking because he couldn't feel pain as well.
it took him til he was 17 to escape, finally breaking out of one of his clients houses and running, just running. he didn't know where he was going. he was wanted, owed a shitload of money on heroin, his master was after him - he spent the next two years on the run before being shipped to fairways after he was found huddling, terrified, very underweight, shaking in withdrawal and muttering on about the matrix. here he found alessandro, and actually wants to be healthy again, though he will not let go of his matrix belief, not when it's the only thing which made him survive this long.
Hair Color: brown Eye Color: brown Extras: various scars Celebrity/Model Picture: Celebrity/Model Name: jason naughty Other Details:
Joined: May 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 27 Karma: 0
hazy [[open to anyone.]] « Result #7 on Sept 10, 2009, 6:10am »
Welcome to my nightmare;;pre tom-arrival setting
Dean sat on the ward bed, staring into space, his pale features partially concealed by his too long blonde hair which fell into his eyes. He had just snorted cocaine, the residue of the white powder brushed gently under his nose, a failed attempt to brush it away on the sleeve of the white medical garb he wore. The loose tshirt did little to hide his toned, yet too-thin frame, the weight loss due to years of drug abuse. He had been here for nearly a year now, shipped straight from Harlington Correctional school for gays and bisexuals. To be honest, those first few months had been a whirlwhind of angry fits, forced injections, straightjackets, swearing, ending up black and blue from his struggles, counsellors sitting calmly telling him he had mental issues and that his drug addictions would be combated here, words which were met with a laugh and a prompt hawk and spit on the counsellors face. Later, he met up with one of the security staff, a man who had looked at him with hungry eyes he had recognised immediately. By this point, Dean was desperate for drugs, screaming every night for the cocaine he believed kept him alive, getting so utterly worked up that he would overload into an epileptic fit, blood streaming down his nose and into his mouth, making him choke until staff were forced to rush in and turn him on his side, at which point he would throw up a mixture of blood and vomit, shaking to a stop of his epileptic fit, screaming at the staff to get the fuck away from him. He hated being seen in any form of weakness, it was lame.
There was one person who had kept Dean calm at Harlington, someone he missed so much it was a physical pain, something he should really talk about here, but would he fuck!. Dean didn't do emotions, everyone knew that. It was more about keeping up appearances than not wanting to open up - he had to appear hard, or everyone would use him. The truth was, he really missed Tom. That was why, when the security guard had propositioned him with sex for drugs, he had shamefully submitted. Now he was even more addicted than before, prostituting himself for each fix of the white powder which dominated his addled mind. In those moments of lucidity, all he could think of was the happy times he'd spent with Tom, just holding him in the bar lounge they'd spent so much time in, the patience Tom had shown him when he'd gotten high again, frightening him with the thought of losing him when he needed a shock. He couldn't stand those thoughts, so he got high, or slipped into a psychotic rage when he couldn't get hold of drugs because it was his dealers day off. Dean had killed people in his rages, but they seemed to forgive him as he was so mentally fucked up, which frustrated him even more. He craved punishment for being this monster, this creature even he secretly hated.
The truth was, the power which surged through his veins when he killed was just another high, another adrenaline rush he couldn't resist. The thought of someone's life slipping away due to his actions took his breath away, like the suicide he could never go through with being played in front of his very eyes, a test run for the real thing. He had noticed that Stryker was also here, a fact that didn't surprise him, but made him cringe in pain. Dean had hurt Stryker, bad. By falling for Tom. Now he was here and Tom wasn't, and Dean had to fight the urge to go after Stryker for the simple reason of easing his loneliness. It was hard, every time they were in the recreation room together he fought not to throw himself at his former lover, still oddly attached to Tom despite their seperation. Oh, Dean was still a bastard, he raped, he killed, he mutilated and he fucked with people's minds, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt Stryker, guilt still trapped in his mind from what he had done to the guy. He blamed himself for Strykers very presence here. He had been going to get clean when he'd broken up with him, then gotten with some dealer guy and ended up worse than before. It was so messed up, but everything was Dean's fault, so he made sure that everyone knew that by being as obnoxious to people as he possibly could.
Now, sitting in the bedroom, Dean imagined that the room was spinning with colours, happy colours, and that Tom was behind him. He fell back on to the bed, letting those thoughts carry him away. He would not be pleased if anything interrupted his drug induced happiness. He shared his room with two other guys, and they would both fucking pay if they dared to interrupt him. Fuck it that he looked so pale and could well be dead, his eyes glaring at the ceiling like a corpse who had died suddenly, or that his arms lay limply at his sides. His mind was over active, playing scenarios over with Tom. A small smile tugged at his lips, only to fall away when a lucid moment slipped over him, making him remember that it was all false. He fought to slip back into oblivion - he didn't like remembering. Soon, he was back to staring at the ceiling, not moving, mind in hyperactivity.
wordcount;; 945 without tags. muse-ic;; It's All Your Fault - Pink tagged;; one or both of deans room-mates. notes;; not as long as I wanted, but meh, first posts are hard XD
Gender: Male Birthday: nineteenth/july Personality:
on the outside, mikey could appear quite normal, happy and bubbly, always having a smile on his face. he could be described as an excited puppy, his personality sometimes being a little over-bearing.
he loves to be the centre of attention, and he's constantly happy, always singing or dancing or rushing around doing things. he also likes to look after people, especially his best friend kieran anderson, whom he had looked after for six years, and he feels its his duty to protect him.
mikey can be a very loveable person, always wanting to cuddle someone, extremely affectionate. he can't stand it when people hate him, because he just likes to make friends.
mikey has a dark side to him, one which he doesn't let come into view very often. he is obsessive, especially with kieran, whom he is completely and madly in love with. he will do anything for kieran, and he wants to be with him so badly.
he is very dependant on others, and he hates being alone, which is why he traced kieran to fairways. he can be extremely jealous, and because of that, he can get violent. he can seem extremely creepy at times, watching people from afar, and observing them.
History:
if you were to ask mikey about his life before he came to work for the andersons, he wouldn't be able to tell you much. his mother and father treated him like a servant around the house, making him do everything for them. he was cooking, cleaning, paying the bills and managing the house by the time he was six years old, while his father worked, and his mother stayed at home.
his mother was a cocaine and heroin addict, and what little money them family made went to the upkeep of the house, so she had to make money for her fix somehow. she had quite a lot of associates on the drug scene, and she started inviting them into the house, at different times during the day, while mikey's father was out, and made mikey do sexual favours for them in exchange for money.
eventually, his mother ran up a debt that couldn't be fixed easily, and she sold mikey, who was ten years old at the time, to one of her regular clients, who happened to work at the anderson household, where the drug experiements were taking place.
mikey was still treated as a sex slave by the man, but under the pretence that he was just another servant working at the house. no one questioned why someone who was so young had a full time job.
this was when he met kieran, the boy he fell in love with at first glance, even if he was unconcious at their first meeting time. from then on, mikey made a promise to himself to protect ki from harm, and help him get away from his father.
he would fight off the men in the warehouse each night, dragging kieran to safety after his father was done with him. he would try and take care of him as best as he could, even if it was emotionally draining sometimes, and he would often get beaten for being so disobedient.
he became obsessed with ki, treasuring those moments when the boy was fully awake and could talk to him. but most of the time, this wasn't possible, and so he made up conversations in his head, stories about his and kieran's adventures. he would often take photos of them too, while kieran was passed out, and made a scrapbook of their time together.
mikey ran away from the anderson household a week before kieran murdered his parents. he got hold of police records, and about a month or so after kieran was admitted to fairways, he tracked him, and checked himself in, determined to win his heart.
Hair Color: dark brown. Eye Color: chocolate. Extras: tattoo of piano keys on his arm. Celebrity/Model Picture: Celebrity/Model Name: brendon urie. Other Details:
( NEARLANDIA ) ;; brand new theatre academy rpg. « Result #9 on Sept 6, 2009, 4:39pm »
the nearlandia academy of theatrical art was founded in the year of 2007, and completed construction in late 2008. the school is now registering its very first classes for the season of 2009 - 2010. this school is a school like no other; there are no grades here, rather, it is sorted by the career in theatre that you want and your level of ability (1-5). you'll learn everything you need to here, even your out-of-theatre subjects such as math. nearlandia academy is a beautiful facility located on a shorefront just outside of the small mountain villiage of nearlandia.
but this isn't a fairytale lifestyle.
when you're attending such a prestigious drama school, you better be prepared for a war zone. everyone's on their own here, even if it seems like things are supposed to work by unity. drama should be expected at a drama school, after all!
a lot of the kids have serious issues, the girls are bitches, the boys are rivals, the teachers are off-the-wall - and the year's just begun. as classes continue, things are about to unfold for the young students at nearlandia. when everyone's fighting for the spotlight, how far will you go?
brand new theatrical academy rpg. cannon positions and admin positions open. join today!