Character Format/Creation (showing 1-50 of 121)

[Kat comment history]

Follow this format, please have (at a minimum) two sentences for each section. Excluding other, and can be replaced by a profile picture in appearance. You don't have to be approved before RPing but if you RP without a satisfactory character sheet, there will be consequences. All rules apply here.
In no specific order:

Name: (First and Last please)
Age:
Appearance:
Orientation: (Straight, Gay, Bisexual, Lesbian)
Gender:
Personality:
History: (Include reason why in the Asylum)
Current Placement: (Patient, Nurse, Volunteer, Visiting Family Member, etc.)
Obsessions: (If any)
Other:

[Moonstonesandbooks comment history]

Name: Astrid Clancy

Age: 15

Appearance:



Astrid has neat, stick-straight auburn hair that reaches her midriff. Her bubblegum pink lips are usually not seen in a smile nor in a frown, as she usually has a neutral or faraway expression on her face. Cinnamon brown freckles seem to blend in with her face and are hard to spot. In the empty spaces between her freckles, a pallid complexion lays there. Her eyes are reminiscent of cherry wood, in terms of color and hardness.

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female

Personality/History: When Astrid was little, she was normal. She had one brother and both her parents, and she was content. A little rambunctious, she loved to play house with her younger brother and do gymnastics. She lived in a very small town, where everyone knew each other, and the biggest event of the year was the annual Porkpie Day Carnival.

When Astrid was eight, she went to the carnival with her mom, dad, and then five year old brother. Her parents decided that because she was very well behaved, that she could explore the carnival on her own, so she took her little brother by the hand. Unfortunately, none of the Clancys knew that a mass murderer/ pedophiele had broken out of jail, and was at the carnival. When Astrid was just about to climb the ferris wheel, she heard screaming, and within all the chaos that ensued, lost her brother. She then turned to run and hide in the nearest ride, the carousel. After a while, she got out and saw that nearly everyone was dead except for the murderer and a few other people who were hidden. He grabbed her and almost hurt her, but what happened next was what changed everything for her.

She closed her eyes and would later go on to say that she saw herself float out of her body and that her body was the one who stabbed the man with a fake sword, not Astrid. The police had arrived at the scene just as he had grabbed her saw her, and according to the official police reports, Astrid had gotten a feral look in her eyes and had taken the guy's machete to brutally stab him until he was full of 64 holes. Yet, this is not how Astrid remembered it. She insisted that she was innocent, and that her body was somehow was able to do things without her consent.

After she had been interviewed and all the dead bodies had been accounted for, she was sent to live with her older cousin, because her parents certainly didn't want her anymore. Later, she was sent to live with her great aunt, then her other aunts and uncles, but no one wanted to keep Lidia's and Jason's crazy daughter who said that her body sometimes didn't want to listen to her. Eventually, all her relatives got fed up with her, and they sent her to the asylum.

This changed Astrid heavily. The once playful little girl morphed into a more solemn girl who now often stares out into space and has a hard time controlling her temper. She hates the fact that no one believes her when she says that it isn't her that those all those things to other people. She says that she must have a doppelganger because she says that she feels herself float out of her body and someone else takes over. When she isn't angry, however, she can be nice enough to make friends with others. One problem, though, is that not everyone likes being friends with someone who is eerily quiet at times. However, she does have a bit of a maternal side, especially when it comes to the younger patients here. The doctors say that it is because that is the start of the natural healing process, but that's not the case. Astrid feels guilty that she didn't look for her brother in the frenzy that started before she decided to hide, so she feels that she needs to watch out for the younger kids.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: none

Other: She has been diagnosed as having Depersonalization disorder, and depending on the doctor, Bipolar disorder. Astrid insists that she doesn't have either one, and says that she has a doppelganger who fills in her place when she does an astral projection.

[Chachi comment history]

Name: Matthew Sebastian Arriguetti

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Personality:Matthew can be seen as very brash and manipulative towards others when he wants his way, though he is a kind hearted being. He’s also cocky and not the first to lend a helping hand when an intense situation has risen. He is reserved and tends to stay away from people he doesn’t know to the best of his ability. He really does try to be sociable, but he’d prefer to stay in his shell.

Orientation Bisexual

Appearance:
Matthew stands at five foot ten and weighs one hundred forty-seven pounds. His skin is a creamy caramel and his green eyes stand out tremendously from any other feature he holds bringing out the essence of his skin. His hair frequently shows different variations because he is much too lazy to comb it out to perfection. Matt is seen as lean with perfect toned muscles

History: It's been nearly five years since he has witnessed his sisters rape, and he's felt helpless since he didn't do much to stop it. Not only does the experience haunt him, but so does the grotesque murder of his father. Seeing a rape traumatized Matthew more than needed, but how much more taking the life of a close family member and not being able to feel the remorse?

After being released from the hospital for the deliberate attempts to hurt himself, Matthew was sent to St. Peters. You see, the boy always wasn’t a bad kid. He wasn’t always getting into trouble or hanging around with the wrong kids. He wasn’t always perceived as a crack head by others or seen as a hoodlum with no home training. It was never like that. Just after that one incident, Matt’s life when tumbling downhill.

His father never gave a crap about Matt. He wouldn’t care if the boy came home late high or drunk. His father wouldn’t care if his only son were commit suicide by jumping off a bridge. He wouldn’t care if he were kidnapped and held at ransom. Matthew’s presence never bothered his father. In fact, the boy was a ghost to him and over the years, the gaping hole of love in Matt’s heart grew worse. It was filled with rage and anger. The only way to relieve the hostility was to put and end to the cause-and that’s exactly what he did. After that he was infatuated with the thought of death and he felt like a God.
Four years later, he was released seeing he has progressed mentally. He’s been a volunteer for eight months now and he’s about to go into his first year.


Current Placement: Volunteer

Obsessions: The thoughts of killing one with his bare hands. Bludgeoning the person to death has been his fire for living, but the feeling has subsided and eventually died out.

Other: Another alias he goes by is Matt. He also smokes outside while he thinks no one is watching.

[Magdalena (Maggie) comment history]

name: Jill Highton (but she refers to herself as "Yellow")

age: 7

appearance: Yellow is small for her age. With big blue eyes and curly blonde hair, her unassuming figure can sometimes seem out of place in the Asylum. Her quiet voice is usually overlooked, but can carry gravity if anyone cared enough to listen. Before being admitted into the Asylum, Yellow enjoyed wearing knee-high socks and a certain purple bow (which she still has in her cell). Meek and calm, her eyes seem to mesmerize those who look into them, their cute blue little-girlness charming many people.

orientation: Straight, but not really old enough to explore other possibilities.

gender: female

personality/history: Yellow had a normal childhood. If you count countless therapists, counsellors, and special schools as normal. Yellow always refers to herself on the third person.

Yellow is usually quiet, yet uses her near invisibility to observe everything. She is perceptive and quietly takes note of everything around her. She's always known she was strange, yet doesn't think she belongs in the Asylum. Given the attitude of the men sent to investigate her, she narrowed her eyes and stared pointedly as she was taken away. Sometime soon, she hopes to use some of what she's gained to escape.

Other than referring to herself in the third person, Yellow can lapse into strange, zoning silences, unexplained and just plain creepy.

current placement: patient (low security)

other: No one knows why she calls herself Yellow. If someone were to become close to her, closer than her parents, then maybe they might learn why.

[sandstorm22 comment history]

Name: Katie Simmons

Age: 18

Appearance: SHe has long, dark brown hair that covers over her face. Her eyes are more of a bownish green. He skin is tan from playing volleyball.


Orientation: Bisexual

Gender: F

Personality: She is very interactive.She just never had any friends.Katie was a bit of an odd kid. HE family just never new wat it was.

History: She loves to be outside and hang out with her family. She never liked to be alone though. But, she could never make friends.Her only friend was her baby sister. Since she saw the death of her baby sister.She hasn't been the same and is trying to help out at the an asylum. Her mother was sent there for making her kids trying to work at jobs and to try and kill them for being too loud or not enoguh with helping around their house.



Current Placement: Volenteering
Obsessions: None

Other:

[Yue [Wonder of living] comment history]

Name: Casey Moss

Age: 17

Appearance:
(Guess who?!:D)
Casey (I keep wanting to call her Ginny now.) looks completely normal on the outside. With green eyes and a red head, she looks just like an average ginger. Her personality? It will be explained later. But for now... She's fairly average height, standing at about 5'6" and is anorexic. (This is a picture of her before she was actually ill.

Orientation: Straight.

Gender:F

Personality/History: It started out with taunting. That's how it always begins. Harmless little jokes, here and there. Casey was never super skinny like the supermodels of the school. She wasn't exactly fat either. Yet, she felt self-conscious about her weight. Not to mention she was always compared to her picture perfect older sister of hers. Oh, let's add divorced parents and horrible stepmother to the formula too. It equals cracking. Falling. Crumbling.

At the age of 14, she was addicted to pain killers. She stole medication from her stepmother, who had arthritis at an early age.

Then came throwing up. Or not eating at all. Then the cutting.

Finally, one day, she was found with a knife in her parents bedroom. And blood all over the room. Her weak was pulse, but she still lived.

Her biggest regret: Why hadn't she cut deeper?

All in all, Casey is quiet and reserved. She's scared of the asylum. Please, don't talk to her; you'll only scare her away. She thinks the asylum is for serial killers, after all. Not kids who want to kill themselves, just to get out of hell.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: Cutting and vomiting. Mostly.

Other:

[[deleted user]]

Name: Maria Gilberta Belishimidt
~nicnames: Ria-Ria, Gil, East (East is only reservide for her sister, who she calls West, and those close to her.)
Age: 18
~birthday: Januray 18th
Gender: Female
~Orientaion: Bisexual
Persona:
The lowly thing that is Maria Belishmidt is always striving for power.She adores the rush of just being strong.She's fairly self-conious, and tends to either refer to herself in the third person or as 'The awesome me!'.She tends to be fairly easygiong though, despite her rabid taste for blood. For some reason, when she see two people together, Maria's eyes get a little misty, looking as if the girl is about to cry. After a few minutes, of watching, her rambunctious old self will decide to torment the couple. She has a fondness for cute things, especially birds. Maria can be a bit arrogant at times but she's pretty trustworthy.
likes: Cute things, a good swordfight, sneakers, and the colours black and white.
dislikes: Surprizingly, despite her great care for her younger sister, she dislikes love. It's very strange, if you ask me.
Apperance:

(East Side, West Side by XNeverConformX on deviantArt )
Albino. The first word that was said to Maria when she was born. Albino. Her pale skin, sunset red eyes, and her already white hair.Maria is very self counious about her looks, but tends to come of as confident, confident, confident. Which she is not. Maris tends to pull her hair up in manny styles of tangly ponytails and buns.She normallly dresses is her faourite colours- black, white and Prussian blue, which means white shirts, Prussian blue jeans, and black asseories.Oh, and her cameo converse. She may be a paiteint here, but she can still be stylish.
History:
Maria was the eldest child in a faimly of five. It was her, her mother, her father, Luda, her sister and Luxor, her youngest brother. Sadly, after Luxor was born, thier father dissapeared and the mother died from a unknown sickness. Maria, as eldest, raised the family, but once Luxor was old enough to watch himself(read: 12), he ran away, forcing the two sisters to grow slightly closer.Maria fought in gangs to keep her sister and her alive.Some nights, she would come home covered in blood, driving her and her sister a bit more...insane bit by bit, until they were found by a socail worker and separtated.Luda visits Maria daily, trying to find ways to get her sister out of there.
Current Placement: Paitient
Obessions: Fighting. And blood. She still thinks by fighting she keeping herself and her sister alive.

[Carly comment history]

Name: Alec Xavier Reynolds
Age: 19
Appearance:
Orientation: Straight
Gender: Male
Personality: Considering he suffers from severe multiple personality disorder, it can change at any time. Before he was put in the asylum, he was an alright person. He didn't go out of his way to help people, but he wasn't heartless. Until the second personality started revealing itself, that is. He would go from being very laid back to angry and spiteful. Something depressed him severely and other times enraged him to the point of harm. 
History: Alec's disorder caused him to spiral into bouts of depression and anger. He started cutting himself, drinking, pushing himself closer, as others might have. He tried killing himself several times, more than he'd let anyone know about. The failures enraged him. The one time he'd nearly done the deed, his friend had decided to pay a surprise visit, only to save him just in time. Instead of thanks, his friend received a beating so brutal he ended up in the hospital. The physical violence toward others ended him here, as well as the suicide. 
Current Placement: Patient
Obsessions: Other than his numerous attempts at offing himself? Well, he likes to wander. It's a bit obsessive for him, but at least once a week, usually on a tuesday, he goes to the graveyard and sits by the headstone of a stranger. 
Other: 

[Carly comment history]

Name:  Alice Beatrice Reynolds
Age: 21
Appearance:
Orientation: Straight
Gender: Female
Personality: Alice was always the shy, quiet older sister. She tried for a long time to be her usual innocent self, and not see the signs of her brother, Alec's, slow deterioration. When the suicide attempts started, the beatings followed. Even Alice fell under her brother's hits, and the fear it caused her has resulted in a long lasting distrustful manner. 
History: When her brother was admitted at fifteen, she was seventeen. Her parents were so worn physically and mentally by her abusive, insane brother that they refused to visit him. Alice was different. She forgave him, instead of avoiding she started visiting the asylum every day. She's graduated high school, and is enrolled in community college in a town close enough to the facility that she can get to the asylum every day. She comes to see her brother, and see the doctors at work. She's studying to be a psychiatric nurse. 
Current Placement: Visiting Family Member
Obsessions: Alice doesn't really have one. Other than visiting her brother every day, that is.
Other: 

[Moonstonesandbooks comment history]

Name: Marguerite Michele Moreaux

Age: 21

Appearance:






Despite her age, Marguerite has a look of childlike innocence. When she is scared, Mar's verdigris eyes become even larger and doe-like. Her long castaneous hair drapes down to her stomach.

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female

Personality: The rather remarkable thing is that Marguerite is nearly as innocent as she looks. She is extremely sweet and is as shy as she is friendly. Some of the younger kids cling to her because she always has a friendly smile on her face, even if she is a bit of an introvert.

When she gets a panic attack, she usually runs off and looks for a solitary space with a lot of room.

History: Marguerite lived in an affluent area, where most people owned three cars, everyone had at least a two story house, and most owned two houses. Basically, she was a rich girl who lived in a neighborhood full of rich people.

She was wealthy enough to have her own tutor, and she was home-schooled. This lead to her graduating from high school when she was only 14. She went off to college and graduated with all her college credits, she was able to graduate at after three years.

She went to live on her own, and then the trouble started. Marguerite didn't know that she had been stalked for six years. She was kidnapped and then kept hostage in a small closet for two years.

Eventually, the huge ransom was paid, and she decided to come back home to live with her parents temporarily. She developed post traumatic stress disorder and claustrophobia. At first, her parents didn't notice anything strange or seemed to ignore. However, she had a huge panic attack, grabbed a knife and started cutting herself. That's when they decided to send her to St. Peter's asylum. She has now been here for a year.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: none

Other: She has more privileges than other patients in the asylum. One reason is because her family is rather wealthy, so they decided to pay more for Marguerite. As a result of that, she has a much larger dorm than others and better menu options. She also has more privileges because she is considered a 'mild case', is usually on good behavior, and because she is much older than some of the other patients.

[Carly comment history]

Name: Professor Greyson R. Chancing

Age: 67

Appearance:
Old and feeble, Professor Greyson has hair white as snow. His skin is papery, thin and translucent. Wrinkles map out across his well worn face, and sunken into his skull are a pair of cerulean eyes. Along his arms are bluish veins that run their way all up past his shoulders and wrap down his legs. His fingers are knobby and clubbed, usually trembling along with his hands. He normally wears what he's forced to wear in his always locked room - white shirt, white pants, white shoes. White. His life has become a blur of linoleum and florescent lighting. 

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Male

Personality: For an elderly man living in a metal hospital - especially under his conditions - he is eerily happy. He always has kind words, presented in a nerve wracking, calm monotone. The way he speaks is inviting, and always warm and welcoming. The man is unbelievably calm, and unknowingly brutal. People must always be on their toes around him, for he's ruthless. 

History: At age 24, Professor Greyson graduated Oxford University in England. He studied science; all different sorts, but anthropology and anatomy were two of his favorites. Humans were an obvious test subject for his studies. Knowing Professor Greyson, some of his colleagues knew from the start he was strange. Even as a child his obsessions with science caused him to be an outcast. 
At age 35 it began with a woman. Her name was Anita. She was a beautiful European woman, with olive skin and green eyes. She was the only woman Greyson would ever love.She was 21, significantly younger than the professor. His partners and colleagues told him she was just using him for a grade in his class, that it was lust. She was sleeping with him for a grade, they told him, but he wouldn't listen. She was the only woman that'd cared for him, shared his passion for the culture of indigenous tribes off the coasts that practiced cannibalism. To his misfortune, his colleagues were right. After he passed her, she revealed she was leaving England to elope with another professor -- his enemy. The heartbreak and rage made Greyson seek revenge. That was when it started. He murdered Anita and her lover, going so far as to cut her heart out and eat it, along with resorting to cannibalism as a ritual of love toward her. He was arrested three days later and locked away. 
His story doesn't end there, though. At age 43, after being locked away for eight years, Greyson made an escape. Over the course of a year, he hunted down a colleague who'd known about Anita's plans to elope. The cannibalistic spree resumed. Over the course of four months, he killed seven people; all linked to Anita. His crimes of passion ended him here, where he's remained for years. 

Current Placement: Patient - High Security

Obsessions: He's obsessed with two things; Anita and People. He loves watching people, and eating them. He writes letters to Anita sometimes, and requests doctors mail them to her. They all end up burned. 

Other: He needs a designated nurse to attend to him daily, seeing as he's - well - a killer. He sometimes talks to a psychiatrist. 

[Anastacia comment history]

Name: Lilac-Michelle Hunt
Age: 9
Appearance: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__c...
Orientation: shes 9 so right now n/a
Gender: female
Personality: Shy,likes to be left alone,often stareing into space or seeing things others don't,sometimes talkes to her bear,dosent really talk to other people unless she has to say something
History: (Include reason why in the Asylum) her mother was raped at age 16 and became pregnat with her and died in birth.Lilac remembers her own birth and a little bit before that. On her 7 birthday she began to see ghosts and went mad so her father brought her here to live and never visits her as far as he's conserned he has no daughter
Current Placement:Patient Low secrity
Obsessions: No one can touch her and when the nurses try she begins to scream like your beating her. She carries around a stuffed teddy bear that was her mothers no one can touch it or she runs and hides till someone can find her
Other: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_E7ik4q_NXFA...
this is her bear

[Olivia comment history]

Name: Kagome takshi

Age: 18

Appearance: http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=kagome+...

Orientation: straight

Gender:female

Personality: sweet loving and sentive

History: Kagome began to see ghosts when she was two. Her mother thought its was only an imagineary friend. But as Kagome got a little older her mother relized that wasent the case so she was sent to St. peters asylum and has been here ever since then
Current Placement: patient

Obsessions: ghosts

Other: her mother is a regular visitor

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

{Name} Zachary James Berry
{Aliases} Zach

{Age} 17
{DOB} May 10

{Gender} Male
{Orientation}

{Appearance}

A rose for his fair maiden…

Visiting the princess
An eye-catcher without trying, Zachary is quite the sight to behold even on a bad day. Tall and rather muscular, tanned, a face just on the verge of manhood- but with the air of maturity gained by years of caring for the ‘princess’.

Hair never quite perfect falls into Zach’s eyes and down to the back of his neck, colored a light autumnal brown streaked irregularly with darker or lighter tones that are completely natural. His eyes are brightest blue and striking, deep pools of emotion and sometimes the wisdom of someone much older than him.

Personality: He's got it all- the looks, the brains, and the charm. Zach was forced into maturity early-- like, at nine-- and it has rather paid off. He's polite, kind, gentle, reliable... and sharp as a needle when it comes to the crazy or misunderstood people he works with.

Of course, he's been forced to mellow down a little after his break. He's learned that he just can't drop a job, especially not Elin. Another lovely trait-- responsibility.


{History} Zach was Elin's best friend since before kindergarten. Their families were next-door neighbors. He woke her up on the first day, and every time she got knocked out afterwards.

In the beginning, it was perfectly willingly. He cared for Elin with as much strength as he could use. But after a few years-- it was four or five, he thinks-- he started resenting his obligation to stay and care for Elin. Around November of his seventeenth year, he met Penelope. They started dating. Elin found out, and she was pissed. They had an argument, and he left. After a talk with Penelope, he promised to visit and left completely.

It was around Christmas that he got the letter. In an Asylum official's envelope, but it was her heartfelt handwriting. Near the end, it got more shaky. Then it cut off.

He was honestly spooked. He couldn't leave his family during the holidays, but the day after Boxing day he took off and back to the asylum to find an unconscious Elin stretched out on her bed. The lights had burned out. She'd declined with his departure.

After that, he got a full-time job at the asylum as her official caregiver. After that, he hasn't left.

{Current Placement} Nurse to Elin Amos
{Obsessions} Getting out. Every night after Elin’s put to bed, he takes off for an hour or three- as long as he can without arousing panic.

{Other}
{RELATIONSHIPS}
{Elin} His job, his responsibility, almost his whole life. But he loves her still, but more like a brother now than a boyfriend.
{Penelope} Penny. His girlfriend.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Margot Middleton

Age: Fourteen

Appeareance: Never one to smile, Margot has small parenthesis from her constant frowning around her dark pink, cherub lips. In addition to, her sad, eyes with large circles under neath them in a light lavender add age to Margot's face, making her look older than she truly is.

Over the years, the only thing that Margot had taken time to care for was her hair.This stopped shortly after she arrived at St. Peter's. What used to be silky waves of dark brown and honey colored small strands has turned to a rat's nest of unruly curls that always find a way to fall into her mystical eyes of dark chocolate with a ring of bright emerald green around the black, large, endless pupils.

What used to be a muscular and lean body has turned to a sickly thin body. Margot no longer has the delight of using a tennis racket, or baseball bat, and doesn't have the knack for basketball, or other- safer- sports. Now the only excersise she gets is walking around the asylum, her little plastic doll in hand, out of the way of the sun because it will drain the color from her doll's skin, hair, and eyes. Now no sun has taken a toll on Margot's skin as well. Now instead of skin that's smooth and always kissed by the sun, Margot has sickly pale skin with hardly any soft texture.

Planning your death with pleasure...


Do you really want to be on my bad side?

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female

Personality: Margot is always unsure of her decisions, not able to trust herself, she turns to Dolly Miss Molly. Dolly Miss Molly has made Margot's decisions for her since she was three.

If you first looked at Margot, you would think that she were cursed with a disease like ADHD or even Terets(?). She is always twitching, moving, and flitting around like a cheetah after drinking a whole six pack of monsters in under twenty minutes. But that is not the case. Doctors believe that she is this fidgety because she is always nervous, and surrounded by people she doesn't trust. Margot has been told, and believes that it is because she alwasy wants her hands on a weapon, or around someone's throat.

History: Raised by a rich family, Margot had always been adourned with expensive toys and jewelry, and never wore anything lower than fifty dollars. But Margot never cared about any of that. All she ever cared about was her Dolly Miss Molly doll. It had been a gift from her parents when she was just a child.

Dolly Miss Molly and Margot were immediately never seperated. Ever. If anyone tried, Margot would throw a fit. Scream and kick and cry when she was too young to speak until she got her doll back. When she could speak, she would threaten people, their lives, and even her life. Scaring her parents into giving her doll back.

Margot never made decisions for herslef. Dolly Miss Molly always told her what was going aorund, and what was best for her. Dolly Miss Molly told her about the things her parents wouldn't. Like when she told her that Santa Clause was really her parents, and the Tooth Fairy. She also knew about her parents' bribe to one of her teachers so she could pass.

At first, Margot brushed these off. Her parents were just looking out for her. But Dolly Miss Molly told her thaat they were lying to her, and that they had to be punished. Margot immeditaely beleived Dolly Miss Molly, and listened to her instructions so that her parents could be punished for lying to her.

Just like she was told, Margot snuck downstairs and got the knife out of the kitchen, and the hammer out of the garage. After that she snuck back upstairs, and into her parents rooom, where she used the utensils for the worst way possible. Her little sister, May was sleeping with her parents that night after having a nightmare. Dolly Miss Molly told Margot to spare her, and wake her up, then get her out of the bed. May witnessed her parents' murder, and was sent to a seperate asylum after she called the police, and they arrived, and took teh bodies away.

That was when Margot was eight. She's been at St. Peter's ever since.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: Her Dolly Miss Molly Doll, who talks to her, and makes all her decisions for her. She cannot be without her, and panics if she ever is away from her.

[Anastacia comment history]

Name: Maya Clover
Age: 7
Appearance: http://www.photochart.com/data/media/...
Orientation: as far a she knows straight
Gender: female
Personality: Shy,scared,quiet,withdrawn,likes to be alone unless she likes you
History: Maya was a normal child until about the age of three when she began to stop talking. Her parents became worried and bought her lots of stuff but she became attached to a small stuffed kitten who she named Rosie. ((https://www.goodforthekids.com/item_i...)) Slowly she began to talk again. At age 5 she would hit her parents if the touched her toy. They took her to multiple doctors who told them she had schizophrenia and it was the cat telling her what to do. So Mayas parents tried to take it away from her only to have her throw a tantrum. She began to threaten her parents saying things like "Rosie's going to kill you" and "Rosie hates you". Mayas parens began to worry finally they found St. Peters Asylum. Maya has been here for a year.
Current Placement: Patient
Obsessions: She has to keep Rosie with her and if Rosie is gone they Maya just stops talking, moving and almost everything but breathing. Her hair must be in a ponytail becuase it bothers her having it in her face
Other: Her mother visits her often but her father stays away for fear of causing her to get worse

[Faith Noelle, The comands we give are always followed by orders. :) comment history]

Name: Elizabeth (Lizzie) Newton

Age: nine years old

Appearance:
She has light brown hair, big brown eyes and a pale skin tone. Even for nine, she has small hands.

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female
Personality: Lizzie has a shy enclosed personality. She talks really, only to the people she trusts. When Lizzie is around adults everything changes, she becomes this happy giggle little girl just like any nine year old her age. Lizzie finds comfort in talking to some people but not all.

History: Elizabeth Grace Newton (Lizzie) was born to the parents of Trent and Jessica Newton on the day of March 22nd 2002 in Jacksonville FL. "She is perfect little angel." Says Jessica the proud mother. Everything seemed okay with Lizzie, she was hitting milestones gaining weight just like she was supposed to.
When she turned nine though, everything changed. Lizzie would have totally random outbursts she would throw things, hit people, claw at her arm with her nails, scream then after about 10 minutes they would stop. Her parents just though it was her growing up and getting older. Then after a few months the outburst got worse. During one of these "outburst" Lizzie would try and hurt herself, her parents would have to hold he down till it was over so she would hurt herself or her family. Her parents finally took Lizzie to her doctor and after running many tests the doctor die Lizzie with moderate Bipolar disorder. The doctor gave Lizzie parents a prescription for some meds that Lizzie was to take EVERY day.
The pills worked for now, Lizzie’s mom or dad would give her 2 pills before they left in the morning and one at night. Everything was turning around. Lizzie didn’t act out as much she started to get better, and so did her parent’s until Lizzie started to refuse to take her pills. Her parents told her she had to but she still wouldn’t take them. They tried hiding them in her food that also failed. Lizzie stated having outburst again and they was no way to control them now. Her outburst started to worsen and one day it got so bad she took a knife from her mom’s kitchen and threatens to kill herself with it while they were sleeping. Her parents knew what they had to do so they took her to St. Peter's Asylum. The day they were to drop her off she asked her mom “Why mommy? Why are you bringing me here? I dint so anything wrong did I?” she says. Her mom would answer “This nice place is going to help you get better, and then you can come back with us. I love you sweetie.” Her mom would say back. As Lizzie was being taken away by the nurse she whispered to her mommy, “I love you but, you and daddy will pay for this…..”


Current Placement: Patient.

Obsessions: She stuffed tiger Leo. Talking to herself at night.

Other: N/A

[Kayla comment history]

Name: Miley Lynn Ross

Age: 6

Appearance: She has nice tan skin, dazzling blue eyes , and curly light brown hair. She is 3, 2” and she weighs only 54 pounds.

Orientation: Straight.

Personality: Miley likes to be called Miley and Miley only. She hates when people nickname her, or calls her by otherwise. She is much of an introvert, disliking anybody who tries to talk to her. She is capable of speaking, yet she chooses not to. She literally hasn’t said a word since she was 4 years old. Instead she writes down her thoughts and memories in a journal. Unlike most people, she doesn’t mind when people read her journal. In fact, in her mind that is the only way people will ever be able to talk to and understand her. She does be normal sometimes. She likes to play with toys and she smiles a lot, she only closes herself off when people ask her to speak. Nobody knows why she doesn’t like talking to anybody, except the people who bother to look in her journal. When she gets angry she REALLY gets angry. She will kick and scream and scratch and bite anyone who happens to be close to her. Not much really ticks her off though, except being told what to do. She absolutely HATES it when people tell her what to do.

History: Miley grew up in a poor state. She has always lived her life homeless. Always. Her father died when she was 3, and her mom didn’t work, nor go to college. So it has been just Miley and her mother sleeping in her car and begging people for change all her life. One day Miley’s mom got a cold, and since she gave up all of her coats to keep Miley warm, she died of frostbite. After a while of walking around town a family started asking Miley questions. Miley had already chosen not to speak anymore at that time, plus she didn’t have any of the answers. The family was concerned for Miley and brought the young girl here, to the Asylum.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: Writing in her journal. Organization:

Making sure everything is exactly the way she wants it to be.

Other: Nobody knows anything about Miley except for a few volunteers, because Miley refuses to say anything.

[Lauren comment history]

Name: Madeleine Jenson (Mad-eh-len.)
Age: Fourteen

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Appearance:

Her thin hair had been previously layered, but it’s grown out quite a bit since she was nine years old. Madeleine has been locked up for five years now. Her skin has grown even paler, as white as ivory now. Her clothes are simple- no bright colors, just grays, blacks, and brown for her. At least, anything that’s dark.

Her normal attire is a light gray long sleeve button-down blouse with a dark gray and black plaid vest and some dark black skinny jeans. Her feet stay bare. She likes to walk through the halls swiftly but quietly. Even Madeleine’s eyes are a dark liquid ash color while her eyebrows arch over them, curved atop her eyes.

Orientation: Strait
Gender: Female

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Personality:
Madeleine is usually a quiet child, but when she does talk, she’s snappy and cocky. Her mouth has always been smart, shooting remarks here and there when she doesn’t want to answer a specific question. Madeleine is deathly scared of the sun; running inside every time it tried to make an appearance through the clouds. In her dorm that she shares, she keeps the curtains tightly closed.

Madeleine tends to go a bit loco when there is blood, even its not within sight- if she can smell it, her animal will take over and it is not a pretty sight. Her mind is trouble so; it seems to think she is a vampire. She will eat nothing of human food unless she is forced to by the doctor who gives her her daily dose of medication.

History:
It all started when Madeleine was six years old, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Madeleine’s parents, Evangeline and Alexander, were overjoyed when she was born; healthy and happy; she was the cutest child they had ever seen. Everything was perfect; they took her home, smiles still glued to their faces as Evangeline laid Madeleine down in her crib for the first night.

She was as normal as could be, and her parents were loving and kind, or that was until Alexander was laid off- his dignity burned along with it. He became madder, sometimes hurting his wife if she ever disagreed with him. Soon, he was a monster to their neighbors. Everyone learned to hate him from then on. Even Evangeline’s heart broke. He had made so many bruises and cuts on her, she even thought about doing it. Doing what everyone was scared of. She thought of committing suicide if it wasn’t for Madeleine.

Evangeline forced her way through it, almost destroying herself in the process as she protected Madeleine from Alexander. Sometimes he would disappear for days, only to come back drunk and bedraggled. His stubble growing longer, until he would shave again. But all through this, Evangeline raised Madeleine, keeping her away from Alexander as much as she could, but even then, he would force his way into her room, which scared his wife to death.

Madeleine grew. She started school up that spring, glad to be away from home, where her parents’ fought constantly. The only thing that occupied her was the books she had borrowed from the local library. Of course, her father would be enraged if he ever saw her with a book that someone would enjoy. He hated happiness. Even if it was swarming around his daughter as her mind created fairy tales and imaginary friends’.

A few years later, she turned nine. Madeleine was the quiet one at school and her mind wandered into dream land until the teacher would snap fingers in front of her face. All the kids teased her, only because she read the whole recess period, her mind obsessed in the vampire novel she was currently reading. The kids teased and bullied her, yelling that she would turn into a vampire herself, and that’s when everything started to happen.

Her mind spun a tale that wasn’t true, but real enough to her. Madeleine had always had a light pearl skin tone, but her when she looked at her arms, only one thought came to mind: I’m so pale...It can’t be... And from then on she was terrified of going out in the sun, she kept telling herself it would burn her and melt her to the ground. Madeleine wouldn’t eat anything her mother prepared for the meals and Evangeline began to worry about her daughter.

She stayed in the shadows of her room all day, rocking herself back and forth, telling herself she was a monster. Evangeline would come in; trying to talk to her daughter, maybe force some sense into Madeleine’s mind, but it was no use. Her daughter screamed and hissed at her if she went near the curtains. They had been tightly drawn shut and another dark blanket hung over the curtain bar, as if to give an extra layer of the protection so the sun wouldn’t be able to penetrate.

Every time Madeleine smelled food, her stomach twisted in pain. She had been so hungry...So hungry, she could eat anything. The doctor had come to see her the other evening; she faintly heard him outside her door, telling her parents she was mentally ill and she really be sent to a hospital.

The next day she could hear her parents yelling and things were being smashed. Her mother rushed into Madeleine’s room, her face full of tears as she wrapped her daughter in a hug, even though Madeleine hissed and growled, trying to get away until the faint, salty scent of blood stung her nostrils. Everything was a flash after that, her mother was screaming and she found herself atop her mother’s chest, grabbing at her neck where blood dripped from a cut on her cheek.

Madeleine heard Alexander enter the room yelling until he froze at the sight before him. He ripped Madeleine off of Evangeline and was holding her arm so tightly it hurt her to where she cried out in pain. His voice was strong and full of anger towards his wife. “See what I mean? She’s gone loco!” And with that, he yanked her off towards the car. Her finger nails dug into her father’s arm, drawing blood. Madeleine bit down on it, trying to get away as she kicked and struggled against his death grip, but he heaved her into the back of the car and locked then slipped into the driver’s seat, pushing the lock on the doors.

From then on, she lived in the asylum, only visited by a strange boy who seemed to take interest in her. She just ignored him though. The nurses had her locked up in a separate room for a few years, until they put her in with another girl that liked snakes. Madeleine hadn’t talked a word in several years- her mind was blank. The boy always sat on the other side of the visitor glass, watching her intently for the hour, though she didn’t say or do anything. Madeleine wasn’t certain why he always came to see her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Current Placement: Patient-- Low security
Obsessions:
When Madeleine is alone, or confused, or scared, she goes and sits in the shady corner of her dorm room which is sheltered in a small tent she constructed of blankets to keep the sunlight out, and to hide from certain things. It’s her only safe spot in the asylum; where everything is clean and sterile, shadowy and creepy. It’s where she can burrow, sneaking away from her nightmares that haunt her even when she’s awake.

Other: Anyone is welcome to make the random boy that visits her.

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name: Ethan Jacob Wheeler

Age: 14
DOB: 15 August


Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight

Appearance: A shock of straw-blonde hair covers Ethan’s head, falling in a mess to the nape of his neck and into his eyes. Said eyes are a soft sapphire blue glimmering with curiosity, knowledge, and the typical jumpiness of a young geek. These eyes are hidden, however, by rectangular black-framed glasses decorated here and there with random colored markers.

Ethan’s never been that tall, hitting only about 5’5, not to mention lanky, and dressed in the kind of clothes that always draw the wrong attention- jeans, sneakers, and t-shirts with various nerdy slogans on them. The typical nerd, Ethan is. Perfect bully magnet.

Personality: Ethan is, well, a geek. He is clever, friendly, fairly quiet, and always a little nervous of potential bullies. As a long-time potential victim of bullying he’s always afraid of attacks from anyone around him.

Although a little jumpy Ethan is a smart boy, clever and sharp, just a little quirky and a fine talker as long as he’s with people who won’t shove him down a toilet.
Likes: Clean glasses, Minecraft, Dr. Pepper, rubber band balls, the music by Fort Minor, Old coins, the artwork of Mike Shinoda.
Dislikes: Wet notebooks, bullies, McDonald’s food, old 3D, loud cars, and vampire novels.
Traits: When his glasses are dirty he’ll remove them and polish them on the hem of his shirt. Or even any time he's nervous or at an akward moment in a conversation.

History: Ethan is the typical school geek. He’s the middle man in a family with four kids, the first one to complete a video game and a science fair champion three years in a row. As such, no duh, he was a natural bully magnet.

Elementary school was torture. He was one of the most picked-on kids in the school, always on the edge. But one day, making his way as quietly as possible through the halls of the school, he heard something that made him incredibly curious.

“They took her to the asylum… said that she couldn’t go into the light. She thinks she’s a vampire.” It caught his ear quite a bit, and curiosity got the best of him. That day, after school, he went to the asylum bent on seeing the vampire girl. It was such an alluring sight, one he stared at for the whole visiting hour every week. She was such a strange girl, one that he continued to look at week after week for years. He doesn’t understand her, but he longs to and that’s why he goes to visit so often.

Current Placement: Visitor

Obsessions: Visiting Madeline every week. Watching the mysterious girl every week seems like a therapy of some sort, an escape from the tortures of school.

Other:

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

(Prepare to be BURNED...)

Name~ Suzanne Elise Amaranta Willis
Nickname~ Suzy

Age~ Eleven
DOB~ August fifth, 2000

Gender~ Girl
Orientation~ Undetermined

Appearance~ Upon first glance, Suzy probably wouldn't pass for a psychopath. Rather skinny, not unnaturally pale, hair neat and tidy, always well rested. On a good day, sometimes even her eyes will lose the look of a hardened maniac.

Hair as black as midnight falls to her midback in sleek waves, though as an addict to hair styling Suzy tends to put it up in all sorts of crazy looks. Her eyes are relative to a kaleidoscope- shifting shades of green, blue, grey, and hazel and surrounded by thick lashes that correspond rather well with her pale, thin, deep-set face. She seems a truly sickly child, in fact- thin-lipped, quite pale, bony, and slightly flat-chested even for her age.

But pray that that is the only side of little Suzy that you see. In one of her 'moods', when she can go from sweet to psycho with the touch of a finger, she is the stuff that can make any of the most stoic nurses panic. The expression of imminent terror, they call it- her eyes bug out, becoming a lot larger than normal. Thin lips part to reveal perfect teeth, bared in a psychotic grin. And leaning in towards you just a little, she gives it just a moment before she charges.

Personality~ Hope and pray you only see the calm side of little Suzy. Although even that cannot be described as quite 'sane'. Although sweet, rather articulate, and quite creative, she is an incredibly stubborn child. Also prone to mood swings, overreacting, and immense exaggeration, she's grown a rather spoiled attitude as well seeing as her parents were rather well-to-do.

But it's the other side that feeds nightmares. When she flashes the imminent terror look, nurses know to get her to the room.
Before it's too late.
In one of her moods, Suzy is violent. Uncontrollable. Prone to grabbing onto someone, primarily a boy, and not releasing her grip. Laughing maniacally, she is capable of doing things that no sane person could.
Likes~ Hair styling, project runway, mySpace, Pokemon, Lady Gaga, and Bruno Mars.
Dislikes~ Twilight, thrillers, mud puddles, rock music, the color grey, sci-fi, and grape soda.
Traits~ When boredom arises, she tends to play with her hair. Randomly just braiding and unbraiding it, binding it with one of many hairties that decorate her thin arms.

History~ Once, there was a little girl born to a perfect family in a big house in the suburbs. Her mommy and daddy were well-to-do people, with a perfectly manicured lawn and perfectly behaved kids named Suzanne and Willy, who both got perfect grades. Willy played soccer and Suzanne was the best in her orchestra class.

The symptoms started small. Originally only whenever she had sugar of any kind, she'd get a little riled up. Especially after a long day.

But when she almost strangled one of the boys in her class, hanging on to the back of his neck and not letting go, things started getting serious. Her parents scraped her sugar intake to the bare minimum, making sure she was never unsupervised. They didn't want their perfect reputation in the neighborhood ruined.

Then it all blew up in their faces, not to mention in the worst possible way.

Suzy and Willy and her parents were in the kitchen one evening, just enjoying themselves and playing around. Then Suzy, in the height of one of her fits, found the knife drawer. And just as Willy was running at her (they were playing tag, you know) she whipped out the fillet knife.

After that, it was pandemonium. Willy collapsed on the floor with a bloody knife in his chest. Her father called the police, her mother the ambulance. No one could diagnose Suzy's condition. Something unexplainable. So they shipped her off to St. Peter's, abandoning her completely. At the time, little Suzy was just eight years old. Three years she's been in the asylum now, and her condition has not improved.

Current Placement~ Patient- High security

Obsessions~ Playing with her hair. When she's bored, when it gets messed up, when someone comments on it. She carries a mass of hairties on her arms, and she'll bind up her mane of black with anywhere from three to nine of them.

Other~ She is still banned from sugar of any kind- especially kool-aid and popsicles. Liquid sugars are the worst for her condition, no doubt about it.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Peter Robert Parker

Age: Sixteen
DOB- March 11th

Appearance: It's a shame that Peter's homosexual, for he's quote a looker. Everything about him is sturdy-looking, firm, and well, intriguing.

Tall and lean yet also limber, Peter towers over many at a staggering 5"11. His rippling arms plus strong, square, kissable jaw thrown in with his height makes Peter look like the kind of person to randomly jump into a fight and win.

Even with his lighter complexion, Peter can manage too look dark and brooding. Dark, endless blue eyes are almost always clouded by thoughts and tendrils of light blonde hair from his signature frohawk. If those bright blue eyes are dark and nearly covered by knitted eyebrows, then his full, seashell pink lips are most likely placed together in a "thinking pout" or frown. A look that would give the "Thinker" statue a run for his money.

Peter doesn't look like the other patients. He works too hard to look normal, look happy. But sometimes if you're looking closely enough, you might notice a slight quiver in the lip, or catch a sudden flash of pain and longing in his eyes that goes as quickly as it comes.

Tied together with a smile


Taking in all the pain...



Gender: Male
Orientation- Gay

Personality: Peter wants nothing more than to leave St. Peter's Asylum. Here, he's surrounded by depressed people with tragedy around every corner. And he feels trapped. A caged animal trapped in a place with no happiness.

A lot of people say that Peter tries too hard to escape. When his is healed, he will be released. No sooner, though Gid knows Peter tries with all his might to leave. He can't take being surrounded by so many sad people, he sucks up their sad energy, and it drags him down. But Peter's an actor, he can pull a brave face together, and seem happy.

There have been days, many in a row, sometimes a whole week where Peter truly is happy. He can forget, it's quite possible, he just needs something to always be happy about. There have been times where release has been considered for Peter, but then something comes up and the consideration is either forgotten or simply revoked. It seems as though Peter is destined to stay at St. Peter's, much to his dismay.

On his bright and good days, petients swarm around Peter to hear his rich laugh, to bask in the warmth of his smile. Peter is quick to make a joke, eager to make someone smile, and possibly even laugh? He's well known around St. Peter's and well liked. A successful people pleaser.

[WARNING- History contains extremely vulgar language and suggestive dialogue]
History: It wasn't very long before Peter realized he was gay. It was probably around twelve, a confusing age, especially for Peter. Of course, why else would Peter suddenly notice how beautiful his friends' eyes were, or how plush their lips looked?

He thought his life as abnormal before Peter realized his orientation. His parents divorced (what a terrible word- why couldn't it be forbidden?), just on the brink of the bloody custody war that always took place with divorces. Not that Peter really liked either of them. His mother was a constant drunk, but concealed it well. About as well as Peter conceals the bruises he receives from her. And his father? Peter hates him, and believes he always will. His father has scarred him in horrible ways. RP will reveal more details about his father's abuse.

Still, Peter was friendly, amiable. He tried so hard to be normal. Too hard, really. No matter how hard you try, you can't be someone you're not.

The day that Peter Parker realized he was gay was the same day- moment, really- that everyone else around him did. One of his dear friends had been speaking. His friend was so beautiful, Peter couldn't stop himself. Before he even realized it, he was kissing his friend. As you can imagine, this ended well.

People had shrieked, and his buddy had wrenched away from him, screaming something about how nasty queer tasted as he ran to the bathroom. Others at the table picked up right where Stanley had left off as far as insults went. Things like, 'You know how gross that is? You f*cking homo bastard,' or 'I'm getting my gym class changed. I wouldn't feel safe to turn around with him in there.' Many more, many worse insults and names were thrown at Peter, who was fighting tears. He ran into the bathroom in hysterics.

Stanley was still in there, washing out his mouth, soap and all. He turned in Peter, rage flooding through all of his senses. Stanley's father, to Peter's luck, was the biggest hater of gays in their small town. Forgetting that Peter was his friend, stanekt cornered Peter, and as Stanely's father would put it, "gave that ugly cocksucker a beating he'd never forget". He never did.

Peter soon saw himself as a freak of nature. You didn't like people you shared a locker room with! But Peter did, and his classmates let him know that they wanted nothing more to do with him. So, on that extremely cold November day, Peter became a homosexual, a homophobe, a depressant, an "emo", and patient at St. Peter's mental Asylum. Though the "emo" and "phsycho" but happened after school, when he cut his wrists for the first time with his mother's razor, and struck a vein.

Current Placement: Patient------- Low Security

Obsessions: Peter loves to write, it's his passion. Poems, especially. He's not that bad, either. Peter always has a own and notebook by him, for whenever inspiration hits.

Other: Petet gets no visitors. He's thought of it as no one wants to see a weird queer boy. Unless he's in the circus.

[[deleted user]]

Name: Hadassah Tivon Goldberg (Hada/Tivy)
Age: Eight
Appearance: http://www.google.com/imgres?q=little...

Long, silky hair surrounds Hada's pale face, thin, colorless lips often turned down in a frown. Chocolate brown eyes rimmed with dark, long lashes are usually bloodshot and afraid. Her long dresses cover her feet and elbows, and all-in-all you will see a cute, scared little girl.

Orientation: Undetermined

Gender: Female

Personality: Hada likes to hide in the shadows, her lower lip often trembling, eyes rimmed with red. She almost only talks to her nurse. However, if one was to get her to open up, she would be a sweet little girl with a horrible, scarred past.

History:

Hadassah was the perfect little Hassidic girl -- never trying to play on the sabbath, reciting the challah blessings by heart. Papa and Mama were very proud, and Hada though her life was perfect.

All was well until the little girl started to notice the stares at her brother, Abraham's side curls. Or the barely stifled gasps when Mama's wig was askew in public. Hada didn't know what it meant, and her life continued on as usual, but it was marred by the thought's in her head.

One saturday morning, as Abraham practiced his Torah portion for his upcoming Bar Mitzvah, while Hada and Mama leaned down from the balcony, straining to see him, a man arrived in the synagogue. The rabbi asked him where he had come from, if he needed a place to worship, if he needed a place to stay for the night. Then the gunshot rang out. His maniacal laughter, the high pitched giggles painting a picture of pure insanity. Mama grabbed her by the hand, pulling her down the stairs, her eyes filled with terror. All Hada could grasp was that the rabbi was gone.

Mama pulled Hada into the sanctuary below, forcing her down to the floor, as they crept, slowly, slowly, to the exit. The man's laughter still echoed, until another startled cry ripped through the air, thick with the metallic scent of blood. It was Abraham, his crumpled body just visible behind the Bima, red on the creamy vellum of the Torah. Mama shrieked, jumping up suddenly in a foolish attempt to save Abraham and Papa. Then, as she threw herself over Papa, trying desperately to save him, that was when the man fired the gun, over and over into their bodies. Hada was almost at the ark now, the sacred holding place of the Torah's. She ran to it's open doors, closing it shut behind her as another rain of bullets shot towards her. She wedged herself in a corner, covered herself with the velvet draperies just in time.

The huge doors were once again opened, and the man peering inside, huge eyes filled with a crazy thirst for blood. "You da*ned jew, where the h*ll did you go?" He roared, searching the ark for the girl. When he couldn't find her, he threw the sacred torahs out with strong arms, then set it ablaze. The only thing Hada remembered after that was his laughter....

She awoke in the hospital, screaming and crying for her mother. As all her family was gone, and there wasn't anyone willing to take her in, Hada was sent to the asylum, where nightmares still haunt her and she misses Mama, Papa, and Abraham.

Current Placement: Patient -- low security

Obsessions: Praying. She has found a rabbi nearby that allows her to come to worship every sabbath. She insists on observing her mitzvot as well as she can, even keeping kosher. It's the only thing that feels real to her.

Other:

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Domonic Michael Taylore (named after the famous singer, Michael Buble)

Age: Sixteen
DOB* March eleventh

Gender: Male
Orientation* Straight

Appearance: Covering half of his round face are curly dark brown bangs. Hish thick hair is always slighlty off, never quite the way he would like it to be, but close. He likes it as even as it will go, with slight curls at the soft ends.

Always shinging with whatever emotin he is feeling, Domonic's eyes are a bright silvery gray.With such a contradiction against his peach-colored skin and darker brown curls, his gray eyes tend to stand out, the big emphazise on his prominant, boysih features.

Since Domonic spends most of his time with his personal patient, Cadenza, he doesn't get out much for exercise except for when Cadenza decides to ve alone. Then he will take a short walk hear the peach tree or park before he is needed once more. The result is a pathetic body build, slightly chunky, but slightly thin and lean.

His rare glare of frsuteration and stress




Hahaha, come at me, bro!


Bright and cheery, as always

Personality: Domonic is a gentle, sweet soul with a seemingly unlimited amount of patience. He is like a magician, able to pull patience out of thin air like a magician can pull rabbits out of his hat of tricks.

You can always see a great big toothy grin painted across his lips. He loves helping those out at St. Peter's. Seeing patients being cured and released always gives Dopmonic a warm feeling of pride and accomplishment. To him, it's all about making the patients happy.

Wanting to be a nurse for a few years now, Domonic has mastered a way to mask his worry and control his temper, so he always looks happy around the patients, which isn't a hard struggle for him. But for when times get hard, Domonic will hum a song that makes him happy and boom, he's back to his normal, cheerful and pleasant self.

History: The signs first started when Domonic was six. His skin suddenly bruised too easily. Instead of coming home from school, a bundle of excited energy, Domonic lugged around, only lasting about five minutes before he would pass out until dinner time and stil be exausted enough for sleep for sic hours straight that night, every night. And when he brushed his teeth, blood would flow heavily from the gums.

Concerned for their son, Amelia and Brian Taylor sent their son to a doctor, where he sprang the word of Death onto them after doing some tests on Domonic. Leaukemia.

Domonic's white blood cells were not producing properly. They were being produced infected and deformed, unable to do their job. The disease had been caught at an early stage, thank God, but Domonic would still have to be hospitalized with chemotherapy. He lost his hair and some of his spirit, all in vain. The chemo did not work. One of his two other siblings had to volenteer for a bone marrow transplant, as his parents were unelligable.

It was his little sister who had offered at a small and measly five. Her parents worried, for she was so small, but her marrow was too pure to be passed up. The painful procedure of the transplant was preform, and a few weeks later, Domonic showed improvement. Within a ouple months, Domonic was cured.

The disease has not passed over to Domonic a second time, and he has been healthy since then. After his cure, Domonic remembered how nice the nurses had been to him, cheering him up whenever he lost hope. Domonic knew that he wanted to help others as he ahd been helped. He started his training at St. Peter's almost immediatly after his release from Cancer. When Cadenza arrived, Domonic was the only one close to her age, so the spider-webby haired girl became his personal and by far faovrite patient.

Current Placement: Personal nurse to Cadenza a suffering OCD victim.

Obsessions: None.

Other: Domonic has gotten himself a dorm at St. Peter's so he can be closer to his patient at all times, if she ever comes to need him in the middle of the night.

The song that Domonic hums, and sometimes sings is a rather old dsong, a favored one of his parents. They used to sing it to him when they came to visist him to the hospital. It would always calm him and put him to ease. Sometimes, it was the only thing that would get him to sleep.

Song link-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luZGma...

Relationships:

*Cadenza- Domonic's patient. He must always enter her room symmetrically, but he doesn't really mind. He's grown very fond of the fair-haired patient, and always goes out of his way to please her. A sort of attraction has budded between them.

[Demi ✿The Caster Girl ✿ comment history]

Name: Serenity McCall

Age: 7

Appearance: Gentle, straight, blonde hair that reaches almost to the endo of her back. Her eyes are bright blue. Wide and innocent. Her skin is pale, and her legs are long for a 7 year old. She has some freckles around her nose too. Overall an adorable little girl.

Orientation: Straight as far as she knows.

Gender: female

Personality: Serenity demands to be noticed by others as important. She needs attention and recognition. Her old living situation situation was leaving her feeling unnoticed, so she wouldn’t let anyone get close to her. Bitter from never having any attention from her mother, she decided to stop trying anymore. She made a deal with herself to just keep her past a secret from anyone and everyone. And she does just that very well. You see, she is able to make others like her, because she is beautiful and friendly. She can have an over-active imagination, which leads her to fantasize and daydream a lot more than the average kid. She is easily impressed by unique and “one of a kind” things. Her secret? She takes the characteristics she likes in other people and applies it to herself so she comes across as an average seven year old.

History: When Serenity was 6 years old her father died in a car accident, and she has always been a total daddy’s girl. She liked to receive compliments often and get hugs from him and be able to share her feelings with him 24/7. When he died she was heartbroken. She believes that she really tried her hardest to make it the same with her mom, but it didn’t work. Her mom blocked herself out from everyone, locking her own feelings up from even her daughter. Serenity got annoyed. Later Serenity claimed she could hear her father whisper things into her mind, almost as if he was right beside her. When she tried to tell her mom, she freaked out and demanded never for Serenity to mention it again. Also, she sent Serenity to the school counselor. When she told the counselor, she sent her here. To the Asylum. Serenity decided it best if she just keep her mouth shut from here on out about her dad.

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: Serenity has to constantly be moving something on her body. Whether it’s her finger or her foot, she doesn’t care, as long as it’s in constant motion.

Other: She has a minor case of bipolar disorder, and she has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

[John comment history]

Name • London Toby

Age • 18

Appearance •


London takes to his mother and appears far more Korean than English. He does, however, have brownish hair which closely resembles that of his father. He is always wearing sweaters, even in the summer.

Many wouldn't guess he was eighteen -- he looks very young, perhaps not older than sixteen. But if you were to express this to him, he would take it as a grave insult.

He has had braces since he was fourteen because of his awful teeth. But you wouldn't know it -- he rarely even opens his mouth.

Orientation • He doesn't feel like he deserves someone, so he's never stopped to consider it. He has, however, noticed that he finds men attractive.

Gender • Male

Personality/History • At first, it was just harmless self depreciating. Everyone does it -- they talk lowly about themselves and hope to be reassured by others or as not to seem arrogant. And London's mother and father, Thalia Kim and Richard Toby, were perfectly happy to dismiss it as such. Even though they were seeing this behavior in an eight year old.

It got gradually worse over the years, of course, and London was eventually just diagnosed as being moderately depressive. Nothing to worry about. Just give him some pills and maybe a therapist and he'll be fine.

And London was, relatively, fine, for a long time. Then, when London was fifteen, Richard decided to teach his son how to drive. London picked it up as a pro and was ready to have a license within a month. So Richard saw no harm in letting his son drive the car to the store, just once, on a snowy day.

London hit ice, lost control of the brakes and crashed into another car. He killed a single mother and her eight month year old child. Because of London's age, the ice and the fact that the woman had no family he didn't have to go to court. It was just ruled out as another horrific accident.

Richard and Thalia got London a private tutor so he didn't have to face his peers at school. He spent his days locked up in his room, usually trying to block out the screaming of the mother and her baby that was constantly replaying itself in his head. Just that month alone he attempted suicide at least twelve times, which were all covered up by Richard and Thalia who believed that their son would just "snap out of it" eventually.

He didn't. It came to the point where London could literally not have any sharp object in his vicinity. He was put in a room without any windows, having threw himself out of the one in his own room. Glass was a no, as well. However, it was when London tried to dig out his eye with a spoon that Richard and Thalia finally decided he needed professional help. They sent him to St. Peter's.

They don't visit.

As expected, London is quite the Eeyore. That is, if you could get him to say something he would be. London will acknowledge you speaking to him, stare right at you and even nod along every once and a while, but in case it's life or death (or he just really likes you) he won't vocally respond. If, on a rare occasion, he does, expect it to be an apology of some sort.

Ever since being sent to St. Peter's London has mellowed out. He no longer constantly attempts suicide. But his thoughts are still constantly on it, so he's not exactly getting better. His parents not visiting him has only increased his depression, to the point where it's becoming unbearable for him to sit in a room with only himself for hours at a time. However, the delusions of the woman he killed are beginning to fade -- and the doctors call that progress.

Current Placement • Patient, medium security.

Obsessions • Suicide. He will, in his head, make a list of all of the ways he can kill himself using items in a room he's in. If it's an awful day, he may quietly rattle off these ways to anyone sharing said room with him at the time.

Other • Music calms down his suicidal thoughts, if only a little. Particularly music with vocals and piano.

[Susana comment history]

Name:Dementia Young
DOB 1-17-1996
Age 15
Appearance Small for her age,she wears long clothes that cover everything part of her body, Her hair long and a flaming red color and her eyes the color of the sky.
Orientation: she had one growing up being there for her younger sister but when her sister was killed everything that she wanted died with her sister
Gender: Female
Personality/History She was a quiet kid who never really talked unless ask too, she was sweet when her friend was in need, But that all changed when her single mother left her and her younger sister with her father that she didn't even know existed, during the months that her and her younger sister lived with their"father" they were sexual verbal abused and sold many times for drugs, One evening Dementia didn't find her three year old sister, when she searched for her she never found her, that night she brutally attack her father with a metal bat slamming over and over again till he's face was so disfigured that the police didnt know who he was. She enter the hospital calling her little sister and once in awhile she'll attack a guard or her roommate and beat them to death crying and calling her little sister name
Current Placement • Patient, medium security.
obsession: Her obsession is cuddling items so close to her saying to it" it'll be okay ruby im here no one will hurt you"
Other: the only thing that will stop her from killing people and screaming for her sister is talking pictures with a camera

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name~ Azalea Clarisse Drake
Nickname/akas~ ‘Z’ by her brother, ‘Zalea for short

Age~ Sixteen
DOB~ 26 December

Gender~ Female
Orientation~ Straight

Appearance~

Hello.



Can’t we get it over with and just say that this gal’s a hooka? It’s in her posture, her garb, her hairstyling, her attitude. There are quite a few very bad words that can be used to describe Azalea- hooker’s the least harsh.

Long, raven-black hair is her defining point- the difference between her and her twin. It flows down to her shoulder blades in thick sleek waves, commonly down and arranged in a way that flatters her perfectly. Now and again it’ll cover her eyes- bright, alluring orbs of green wreathed by thick lashes- but it isn’t often.

Curves? Perfection. All the right places, all the perfect thicknesses. And Azalea ain’t afraid to show it, as demonstrated by her wardrobe. She’s a mid-height girl, about 5’7, and weighs in at a perfect 120 pounds.

Personality~ There are quite a few bad words that can describe Azalea, and she’s used them to describe others as much as they describe her. Honestly, I’d have to put b/tch right there at the top.

She’s a hooka, she’s a cusser, she’s a half-sized can of aerosol pepper spray waiting for a target. And she dreams of murder. No, she hasn’t yet actually murdered. But she looks at it in the principle of a voodoo doll. Create a look-alike- then destroy it brutally. Sometimes it’s a simple drawing, sometimes it’s a human-shaped item of food, sometimes it’s literally a stuffed doll made to look like the one she hates.

But she always wants to kill. And trust me- one day she will. Someone with her determination is bound to get the prize.
Likes~ Murder, dreams of murder, skintight clothes, designer shoes, vamp novels, Lady Gaga.
Dislikes~ Rock’n’roll, tasteless morons, overprotective (in her opinion) nurses, and someone who keeps her away from her bloodlust.
Traits~ This girl cusses. A lot.

History~ It’s hard to say when this all started, but let’s go back to the beginning. Azalea and Alexander were born to a quiet house, to kind parents, with everything they could want. Azalea showed promise in her drawing early, and when it became available was enrolled in a school for the arts.

It was probably around her seventh birthday that it actually started. Imagine the scene: The children with their mother in the kitchen, icing some gingerbread men. Then mother looks over at Azalea, and she’s relishing in the devouring of her cookie- bit by bit, first the arms, then the head, then all the way down to the legs. “What are you doing?” She asked, a little shocked.
“I’m pretending this is Joey Wheeler.”

The school bully. Azalea was pretending to eat the school bully. And relishing in it. Concerned parents went to the principle, and the principle went to the guidance counselor, and the guidance counselor went to Azalea.

And she started to draw him- and gruesome representations of the guidance counselor in her notebook weren’t exactly child-friendly. It got worse as time passed, though. Anyone who’d bothered her, even once before apologizing, got drawn. Her sketchpad was swiftly filled with bloody, intensely macabre drawings of teachers, students, random strangers- anyone. Or she ate them, or tore them to bits. It all depended on how angry she was at them and how much paper she had.
Her parents were bound to find out eventually. Just about the same time as Alexander was busted, her parents found her notebook laying around. Immediately they were shocked by the gruesomeness- but then they saw the names. Inscribed on every drawing was a name, whether it was a real name or the title of ‘Stranger’.

Now seriously concerned, they spoke to St. Peter’s about having both of their children enrolled. It was doable, and the nine-year-old twins were put into the Asylum. Azalea’s been there seven years- her issues have not improved.
Current Placement~ Patient- Medium security

Obsessions~ Drawing renditions of her enemies. None of them are the same- but the macabre touch is always there. There’s always a touch of blood, sometimes from a knife or a bullet or any way of making them die. Azalea doesn’t truly get violent with her hated ones- but her dreams of it are only too vivid.

Other~

RELATIONSHIPS~
Alexander~ Azalea’s twin- and a fellow inmate. His symptoms are similar, but not identical. Violence? Definitely. (To be posted later)

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name~ Alexander James Drake
Nickname/akas~ 'Xander, X

Age~ Sixteen
DOB~ 26 December

Gender~ Male
Orientation~ Straight

Appearance~



He wants out...
Attractive certainly runs in the family. Although he doesn't flatter it half as much as his sister, Alexander is quite the looker.

Black hair falls to just the nape of his neck, always perfectly brushed back. It fluffs out a little, just a little, and covers his ears completely.

Eyes differ from his twin's in that they are a deep chocolate brown, but they still glitter with the intensity of a potential murderer. Thick lashes accessorize them, and although on a boy they still look good.

It's slightly more obvious in Alexander's face that there is a bit of Hispanic in the bloodline- olive skin, high cheekbones, and the face shape show it well. Not to mention his amazing tan and his height, which is a rather unusual 5'9.

Personality~ Alexander is definitely not his sister, no matter how much alike they look. More serene, calm, friendlier and less violent.

But he still has potential. His darker side, combined with an analytical mindset, not to mention his love for sharp objects, make people think of a serial killer when they talk to him no matter how friendly he's being.

Likes~ Sharp objects, classic rock, quiet afternoons, a non-b/tchy sister.
Dislikes~ Embarrassing moments, irritable nurses, losing his knives, getting negative feedback about his sister (Although he's used to it), and mainstream music.
Traits~ General silence- he talks little.

History~ Xander's life starts in the same place as Azalea's. In fact, it starts four minutes prior to hers- he's the elder twin, and all his life he's been told it shows.

It's easy to track Alexander's obsession to the source and date. It started the day that his grandfather gave him his first pocketknife. A simple Swiss Army knife, with three blades and a screwdriver. His family were iffy about it- a four-year-old getting a knife? But his grandfather talked them into it. It was only two inches long, after all. And he'd make sure it didn't hurt anyone.

So his parents relented, and Alexander got his knife. "Take good care of it," his grandpa instructed, "And make sure you never lose it." Alexander took this immensely seriously. He polished it and cleaned it and sharpened it and... tested it. The first time he watched the red blood dripping from his fingertip, he was awed. But it was more the sharp feeling of the blade than the blood.

The addiction continued, and by the time he was nine he had over twenty knives that he'd scraped together. But sadly it was a secret, and when his parents caught the nine-year-old in his room with a bloody hand and a box of knives, they freaked. Soon enough his sister's notebook was found, and the two were off to St. Peter's. His condition has not yet improved.
Current Placement~ Patient- Medium Security

Obsessions~ His knives. He actually managed to smuggle one in seven years ago, and he keeps it in pristine condition.


Other~

RELATIONSHIPS~
Azalea~ Xander's twin sister and fellow inmate. Her obsession may not be knives, but it was enough to land her here.

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name~ Viktor Joshua Kirke
Nickname/akas~ Vik

Age~ 18
DOB~ 25 May

Gender~ Male
Orientation~ Straight

Appearance~

Appreciate it while it lasts- that smile won't last long.

I see you.

Let a man have his peace.

It seems that Viktor hasn’t done much to his English appearance since he left his old home. Hair is still cut like it was, style is still what it was then.

Hair a deep brown, almost black, falls to the top of his shoulders in thick natural waves that are pushed neatly out of his face and over his ears. A shadow of dark stubble lingers, covering his chin and giving him faint sideburns.

Eyes a deep chocolate brown peep from between narrow lids, framed by thin lashes and slightly arched eyebrows that are somewhat masculine anyway. More often than not they glimmer with suppressed grief, but sometimes a smile will break free.

A strong face matches finely with a strong build complete with the strong jaw, broad shoulders, and firm build of a full-grown man fresh out of youth. Viktor is quite tall- almost six feet, and muscular from his years of working out back in England.

Personality~ Upbringing in a well-to-do home has left Viktor with a chivalrous attitude and good education, leaving him courteous and logical in interaction. Clever too and incredibly logical, definitely not one to venture into something without thinking.

Yet year-round care for Cassandra has left him stressed for her wellbeing not to mention anguished, and when he noticed he immediately locked them away to prevent their becoming a liability. All the rest of his emotions went too, leaving him a polite but utterly emotionless young man.
Likes~ The work of Charles Dickens, classic rock, hot coffee in the mornings, quiet afternoons under the peach tree, and calligraphy.
Dislikes~ American government compared to British, mainstream pop, American football, sour candies, clutter, and Cassandra’s harder days.
Traits~ He has deliberately maintained his British accent, and it comes up clearly when he speaks.

History~ Well, I’m sure you already know Vik is an Englishman. His parents were incredibly well-to-do, and he was an only child raised in a big house in London. Sadly, even opulence has its downsides- it was more for image than anything else that the dark-haired child born to Emiline Kirke was kept.

Viktor Joshua Kirke was christened in the June of 1993, and after that put in the care of a nanny as his parents went about their daily business. When he was four, he was quickly put in a private primary school where he remained until he was eleven, and then he proceeded into secondary school where he met her.

On his first day of secondary school he met Cassandra Kaine, a veritable princess in the eyes of an eleven-year-old boy. Fair-haired, sweet-voiced, and as well-to-do as his family but much more cared for. The two swiftly became fast friends, and actually started dating in the summer of his fourth year. Sadly, the happy pair’s life was not to last.

In Viktor’s fifth year, there was an attack at the school. A shooter fired directly across the line of windows on the right side of the school’s fourth floor, which happened to be where he and Cassandra were studying. Viktor was unharmed, but Cassandra was caught in the line of fire and shot twice in the chest. She survived- but never the same.

The girl became paranoid. Jumpy. Unable to attend school due to fear, and sent into a panic at the sight of firearms or the law enforcement officers on every corner of a London street. Her parents were incredibly concerned, and when her condition did not improve they decided to send her down to a well-known asylum in America known as ‘St. Peter’s.’

When Cassandra left, Viktor was heartbroken. Immediately he approached his parents and asked to visit America on grounds of helping Cassandra. To his shock, the Kirkes refused with flying colors.

“You are the son of the most proficient business man in London! I won’t have our reputation tarnished by a son that wants to run off and help his crackpot girlfriend.” The way his father spoke of Cassie was infuriating. Direct refusal was the next thing to come, and the sixteen-year-old boy was swift to pack his bags and the amount of money he’d been piling up over the years. After that, he left. Without regrets. Regardless of the fact that his parents threatened to disown him, he journeyed to America and there he stayed.

The first thing he did was go to St. Peter’s and visit Cassandra. The girl was overjoyed to see him, and when he discovered her condition was getting worse- in fact, she was unthinkably paranoid now- he immediately got himself a room at the asylum and took a position as her personal caregiver. Two years have passed since his arrival in America, with him working an alternate job off of asylum hours to pay his bills and caring for Cassandra all the rest of the time.
Current Placement~ Volunteer- Cassandra’s special caregiver.

Obsessions~ Calligraphy. The concentration and delicacy involved is an excellent stress release, and during his spare time he’ll grab his personal pen and leather-bound notebook to write.


Fair yet so fragile...

His pen is a British creation, and the last birthday present his parents gave him before he left England permanently.

Other~ Viktor has no contact with his parents save the unsigned Christmas cards he gets every year.

Any active member is welcome to make Cassandra- PM me to work out the details.

RELATIONSHIPS~

Cassandra Kaine~ His once-was girlfriend and fellow brit, not to mention the channel for all his care. His affections have turned more brotherly, it seems, and truly they never really kissed before the gunner's bullets left her a frightened little girl.

[Hope comment history]

Name: Raven (Nathan Adair)

Age: Seventeen (17)

Appearance: Raven’s appearance is heavily influenced by his Native American ancestry. Hailing from Cherokee parents, he is olive-skinned with sharp features and small, almond-shaped eyes so dark in color they look almost black. Thin, arched eyebrows curve above them. Raven wears his hair straight and long; it touches down just past his shoulders when he doesn’t pull it back. Standing tall at a solid six feet and weighing in at 150 pounds, his build seems quite normal when you first look at him. But when you do a double take, things like broad shoulders and slightly bigger-than-average muscles will make an appearance—Raven is definitely fitter than most.

You’ll never see him with shoes on, even in the colder months; he doesn’t like them, preferring to move about barefoot. His usual garb includes simple t-shirts of one solid color coupled with jeans. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll go out wearing his silver ring on his left hand—but that’s rare. Don’t ask about it either. It isn’t a topic he likes to discuss.

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Male

Personality: Cocky, assertive and arrogant at times, Raven is just one of those people that you hate or you like after you first meet him without much of an in-between. He’s as smart as a whip, a charmer if there ever was one, and completely ready and willing to use others like a plaything to suit his own devious needs and purposes when they pop up if needed. He wasn’t always like this, but time on the streets and his past in general has molded this boy into an almost completely different person. When he’s not laying on the charm or making an effort to be civil, you’ll probably find Raven to be sarcastic, cold and generally a prick. He almost always calls ‘em like he sees ‘em regardless of the consequences and isn’t afraid to tell you he doesn’t like you. Many classify him as a jerk or at the very least unfriendly, and he’s not going to deny the claims, but just make sure you remember that there’s a way to get to the kinder side of him. It just takes an open mind and the right attitude.

History: Raven’s life started out normal enough. He and his twin sister, Anna, were born on a Cherokee Indian reservation in Oklahoma in a small house more than a mile from the nearest area of civilization. Having been homeschooled by their parents, the siblings had little reason to go outside of the house despite the vast outdoor space, and that was how their parents liked it. Raven, being defiant and a bit of a rebel from the start, made up his mind that it wasn’t how he liked it. And thus, he and his sister made excuses to go out as often as possible, just to annoy their parents.

It was summertime in Oklahoma when these little adventures flipped his life upside down. Raven and Anna had ventured father from home than usual, off towards the creek. After all, they reasoned, it wasn’t that far, and it was hot. They wanted to cool off a little. Well, they arrived at the creek without problem and splashed about in the shallows for a while. But such a game began to grow boring quickly, and the twins started daring each other to preform stunts on the rocks nearby to amuse themselves.

Back and forth they went, each trying to out show the other. Soon their little game got dangerous. Their shenanigans were changing from simple cartwheels and tumbles on the rocks to dives into the deeper parts of the rushing water. It was just harmless fun for them; they could both swim well enough. Besides, it wasn’t like they were going to go in to the point where they couldn’t swim free. At least, that was the original plan. But that plan changed when their little gymnastics and drives once again grew too easy and boring for them.

Anna and Raven advanced father down the bank, still shooting dares at each other. They were taking turns diving into the creek, braving the current, doing underwater tricks, coming out again and daring the other to “top that”. It was all good fun…so they thought. But Anna went too far with one trick. She dove into the creek and swam out into the strongest part of the tugging current, convinced she was going to win the game of dares once and for all. She had made a fatal mistake.

The current was too strong for little Anna; she was swept away. Raven tried to save her. Honestly, he did. But it was no use. The ten-year-old boy went home alone that day. His parents…let’s just say they didn’t take it well. They freaked; went berserk. They blamed him for their daughter’s death. For the weeks afterwards, Raven never got a break. He was trapped constantly in a stream of abuse. Shouts of fury and grief relentlessly rang in his ears. During one particularly bad night, his mother came at him with a crowbar.

It wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it anymore. At elven he made up his mind and ran away from home. Surprisingly enough, he made a good living as a street rat. He survived on his own quite well. Soon, his luck increased and he wasn’t on his own anymore either. He met a rag-tag gang of kids from a nearby public school, made friends, and was smuggled all sorts of things. From cafeteria food to sodas from vending machines, they even got him a laptop. Homeschooling the traditional way without technology left Raven ignorant of how to use the thing, and he was shown by his friends.

As it turns out, he had a knack for working the computer, and was soon helping his friends out in kind by hacking into websites blocked by the school system. They told their friends about “the homeless kid’s” skills, who in turn told their friends and them their friends. People were soon lining up around the block to request Raven’s services. He was hacking into all sorts of things: school grading systems, blocked websites, even parents’ computers blocked by passwords. It was nice, being famed, but eventually he decided it was time to pay his parents a visit.

Raven was sixteen when he returned home to his broken family. At first they were surprised to see him. Then that surprise turned to anger, and that anger to hate. Turns out they were furious at him for leaving, and even after five years still dedicated blaming thoughts towards him over Anna. But time on the streets had changed Raven—made him stronger, fiercer, hardened his heart. A different boy had entered that old house, and that boy wasn’t going to stand for the hate anymore. He pulled a gun on his parents. He warned them that if either of them screamed about anything at him ever again, they would both die.

His parents didn’t take him seriously. And that night, the pair died under “mysterious circumstances” from gunshot wounds. Raven took back to the streets and changed his name to avoid identification. From that point on, he was addressed as Raven and nothing else. It worked. Nobody, it seemed, knew who he was. Nobody cared; the street folk were satisfied with the name he gave them. But his luck wasn’t to last. As it turned out, a neighbor had seen him with the gun in the window after he murdered his parents, hearing gunshots and screams come from his house.

Authorities were contacted, and a few days later Raven was caught, arrested, and thrown in juvenile detention. His young age made it impossible for them to throw him in prison, and so he was sent to St. Peter’s Asylum so that he could be under constant surveillance. He has many failed escape attempts to his name, and for this is rather well-known among the asylum.

Current Placement: Patient—Moderate Security

Obsessions: The silver ring he stole off his mother’s finger the night she died. Most of the time it’s kept in a velvet pouch hidden in his room, but sometimes Raven will wear it on his finger or on a chain around his neck. He has the odd habit of taking it out in the night, holding it up to the window and allowing the moonlight to catch on it at a precise angle as he studies it as if reading an inscription only he can see.

Other: A: To this day, there are very few patients of the asylum who know his real name. The asylum staff know it, but they're smart enough not to throw it around; that said, Raven has given it to a few people he trusts. Rosemarie Toom, for one, and Lena Paters.

B: Raven sometimes hacks into the asylum’s system when he can get his hands on a computer, to check up on the patients there, himself included. He often deletes or changes unwanted information that concerns him. He’ll do the same for others too, but there’s always a price tag attached to the deed.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Rosemarie Lia Toom

Age: Fifteen
*DOB: May eleventh

Gender: Female
*Orientation: Asexual

Appearance: At first glance, you will wonder why this girl isnot dressed in fairy wings and minidress made out of flower petals. Rosemarie is extremely small, skinny as a bean pole. The only thing "big" about her is her staggering height of 5'10. Her slender build and elfenlike features give Rosemarie the complete look ofcute and innocence.

Two orbs of piercing light blue fringed with neutral aubrun eyelashes settle for eyes that fit right in with alabaster skin. Though usually free of blemishes, a flock of freckles cover most of her face, in her opnion, marring her china doll porceline skin. More freckles lightly dot her limbs, and so Rosemarie likes to cover them with long pants and turtlenecks.

Nearly the same shade as her freckles and eyelashes, Rosemarie's ginger hair is long and usually unkept. In slightly mussed locks of burning flame they tumble down her back, her chest, finally ending with the slightest of curls at her narrow hips.

Rosemarie hardly ever smiles. She wears the same bored, upset expression day after day. Full cherub lips are usually found parted, pulled down into a deep frown or wistful pout. If you can get her to smile, take a picture because even though it's weak and unattractive, a smile is a smile.

What are you looking at?


M'lady, do you hear me?


Stay back; she's not afraid to hurt you...

Personality: What can I say? Rosemarie is a perfect picture of a mental patient. She cannot be bothered with the problems of others, and only finds time to indulge in her obsession. She is frantic to complete her goal, and her determination wears her out. She can scream and throw things in frusteration, but then she can have a day where the sun shines just right, and she can be more pleasant to be around.

Stubborn and hot-headed are two key words usually used to describe Rosemarie. A sad cliche with her flaming red hiar, but true. Carryin grudges has transformed Rosemarie from a pleasant girl with a hobby to a raging ball of hate. Do not say the wrong thing around tis girl, she will explode.

History: Rosemarie was always unique as a girl. She had different beliefs than her family and friends, and most were interested to hear how she viewed the world.

Rosemarie was attracted to Greek mythology. Her bookshelf contained hundreds of mythology books, encyclopedias, disctionaries. All having to do with Greeks and their beliefs. Rosearie had a particular obsession with one certain goddess. Artemis, the virgin goddess of Hunt and wildlife.

The goddess's will-power and spunk drew much respect from Rosemarie, and soon began to follow her ways. Rosemarie swore off men, became a vegetarian, volenteered at the animal shelter, and lived in the woods on the weekends. Rosemarie prayed to the goddess a lot. Her parents found thier daughter's new fascination odd, but they encouraged her nontheless. Everything was fine.

And then it happened.

Rosemarie's best friend had been dating a man several years older than her. Though in Canada where they resided a relationship such as thiers was legal if she was sixteen,Lisa was only fourteen. He had wanted some adult fun at a party, but Lisa refused. Poor Lisa didn't know her boyfriend wasn't one to take no for an answer.

Rosemarie held Lisa as she sobbed in her lap. She was getting angrier by the moment, but managed to keep her cool until she convinced Lisa to tell her mother and the police. That's when Rosemarie took out her bow she had won from the school during an archery competition, and headed off.

When the cops arrived to where the party had been due to a call about a shooting, many men became sick at what they saw. Limbs of the boys at the party- none of them had been spared- were thrown aside, and the torsos could be found with arrows protruding from them. Some in the heart, the stomach, the throat, and some had gotten it inbetween the eyes. Her screams were what alerted them.

She had found him, and saved him for last. Arrows were everywhere on his body, blood running everywehre. When the police arroved, shewas throwing herself against him, clawing at him.

Rosemarie was put on trail for first degree murder. The decison was to be sent to St. Peter's for help with her mental monstrosities. There, they claimed she was self-brainwashed and needed her help.

Current Position: Patient-- high security

Obsessions: Her goddess. She still follows what laws she can to stay loyal to her goddess, always praying to her, hoping she will free her.

Rosemarie creates fantasies about murdering the men around her as a revenge to Lisa and a sacrifice to Artemis. She's begun to enjoy the feeling of killing in cold blood.

Another obsession Rosemarie has is a locket with a moon and a stag on it. When praying to her goddess, she rubs the pendant.


Along with a heavy silver cain to hold it around her neck.

Other: Rosemarie has no visitors. Her parents encouraged her through all they could but they just can't love a murderer. She has been here a year with no improvement.


The lady herself...

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Cleo Alexandria Rizzo

Age: 16
*DOB Novbember 12th

Gender: Female
*Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Bold and beautiful with a stride of false confidence and thick aura of spunk. Cleo does not want to give off the inpression of a little, frightened girl when so many men seem to turn their heads when she walks by.

Lightly framing Cleo's slightly colored face are recenblack curls that end at her bust in shiny ringlets. Cleo never puts up her hair, but instead always allows it to hang down around her face to give her chocolate brown eyes heavily surrounded by long, thick lashes even more emphasize and a sense of mystery. Not to mention letting a thick curtain of hair down between two people is a great way to avoid conversation.

Cleo's lips are never aided with cosmetics like chapstick and lipstain. They don't really need it. Her full, colorful lips are annoyingly perfect every day. She hardly ever bites them, and the simple water she drinks seems to be enough to keep them smooth.

At an average height of about 5'6, Cleo has been cursed with the uncanny ability to always seem to find a place to sit or stand amongst people who are above average tall, most of them being boys. This usually results in teeth gringing and a size up in her clothes to hide her curvy body. People always tell her she has all the right curves in all the right places but sometimes Cleo just wants to stay covered beccause she hates some of the looks that passing patients give her, they make her uncomfortable.


I hate the world


Pink, for Abigail


Another memory come back to haunt her...


Personality: Before St. Peter's,Cleo was a smart, funny, indearing young lady who almost certainly had a bright future in the arts. A sweet and likeable human being with many friends who she loved dearly.

Now Cleo wants nothing to do with love or the world. What she loves seems to be violently ripped away from her.

Instead of funny and indearing, Cleo has become cold and snarky. She can turn anything into a sarcastic joke with bitter, biting comments. Cleo belives there's no happiness for her. After all, her heart and soul has been split in half, and one half has run away.

But Cleo surely can't be the only one to suffer, definately not. Cleo has started to take a sick joy in toying with other's emotions, then dropping them like a hot potatoe. Men seem to be the easy target,and watching her hopelessly lead them on is very similar to watching a cat play with its prey before killing it off.

Yet even Cleo has her moments of unsurity, hesitance. Sometimes just like any other girl she's lost and doesn't know what to do. She's usualy sefconcious, but smart enough to hide her uncertainty.You can't entirely blame the girl. She's been hurt and has suffered much in the past. The universe has burned horrible memories into her head that she wishes she could wash away forever. She yearns to be cleansed from her past, but her past firmly stays with her, and she lashes out at the world because of it.

History: Living in L.A. was great for Cleo. She had the sun, the sand, and she had Abigail. The two girls met in an AP art class their school offered. Being the only middle schoolers in the class, the two girls latched onto each other quickly and became insperable within a few weeks.

A few years passed, and now at fourteen rather than twelve, Cleo and Abigail did everything together. They shopped for clothes- because after all the trading and borrowing no one knew who's had been who's to begin with spent weeknights together, and were even making plans for college together, as they would both be graduating ealry in a couple of years because of the scholarships their artwork had ensured. The best friends would happily be together forever. Sadly, neither girls remembered that forever never truly lasts for forever.

Just before school was ending for the fourteen-year-olds, Abigail didn't seem right. She never felt well, and one day found an unsual lump on her right breast. The two families brought in thier daughters- Cleo and Abigail refused to be apart in case it was something serious-, both unhappy and worried. Everyone cried when the results came back; one of thier daughters had stage 2 breast cancer. And it was growing quicky.

That summer, the girls stayed in the house, hardly ever going out. Cleo spent the whole summer at Abigail's. She refused to leave her side. Cleo was there to everything. When chemo became necessary, Cleo helped Abigail's mother with the treatments-sometimes it would be Cleo's mother if Marissa had to work. When the first strands of of caramel blonde hair fell out, Marissa and Emily patted Abigail's shoulders while she sobbed on Cleo's shoulder.

Everyone took it hard when Abigail eventually had to be hospitalized. It tore Cleo apart to hear the words 'visiting hours'. She was restrained from being with Abigail at all times. The only upsdide was that Cleo could now have a wig made for her best friend with hair that Abigail had always envied. It was the first time Cleo had ever cut her hair above her shoulders.

Alas, nothing could stop the disease, and the doctors reluctantly agreed that Abigai's slim chance of survival meant removing Abigail's right breast. It was a bittersweet ending for the families that had become one family, but at least the battle was over. Or so they thought.

One month later, the cancer returned, now in hte left breast. The same procedures were constructed and Abigail again, lost her hair which had grown to a cute pixie-cut. But Abigail had lost too much hope and strength. After battling the disease for a year, Abigail died shortly after the removal of her left breast.

Without her best friend, Cleo was lost in the world. The world was moving on, but she was not ready to move with it. Cleo's paintings soon turned dark, at last only displaying the color of Death, the color of blood, and the color of breast cancer awareness. Her scholarship was revoked, no one wanted her work. Cleo slipped further into depression.

Writing helped slightly, but not enough to stop the dreams. Many of them were Abigail rising from the dead and seeking revenge on those who failed to save her. Some dreams were of Cleo suffering the same fate as her friend, surgery and all. Her screams are never remembered, but the dreams are. She writes the dreams down every morning, not like she can forget them in the first place.

Her mother found the notebook where everything was written down, terrified at the descriptive murder stories and dreams of people being mauled- all women- and their breasts being severed. She quickly sought out professional help for her daughter. The psychiatrist wrote it off as trying to deal with the loss of Abigail. She was given pills, how stupid of the psychatrist.

The pills didn't help Cleo's nightmares or her depression. If anything, they only made matterss worse. Driven over the edge in her crumbling world, Cleo took almost half of the bottle at once. Her parents rushed her dying body to the hosptial. After healing, she was whisked to St. Peter's where she broke down,admitting what she had an unexpalinable urge to do to women in Abigail's honor.

Current Placement: Patient-- high security

Obsessions: The color pink. Shades form delicate baby pink to striking hot pinkand everything inbetween. Every day Cleo adournes herslef in pink. Pink for breast cancer awareness, and of course, for Abigail.

Other: Cleo still loves to paint, even though her artwork remains dark and sinister.

Cleo's been here for about a year and a hlaf, almost two years. Though both her families always write to her, they are too busy moving on with new foster children to visit. She somewhat resents them for moving on and not mourning over the loss of their daugters.

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name~ Moire (Moy-rah) Amiree Spinnet
Nickname/akas~ TBA

Age~ Seventeen
DOB~ 29 May

Gender~ Female
Orientation~ Straight

Appearance~

The gods are waiting.

They want out.

Well, if anything Moire can certainly pose as the asylum’s poster child. She certainly looks the part of a mentally handicapped person- continually tousled hair, distant eyes, the continual mutterings.

Eyes the color of burnt hazel are always drawn from reality, sometimes glazed over in thought or hallucination. Her hair always looks like she’s rolled out of bed after a nightmare- tangled and matted in all the wrong places, frequently unwashed. When neat (which is far from often) it falls about down to her breastbone in loose black curls.

Delicate face is slightly heart-shaped, eyes framed with arched brows and thick lashes. Neck when seen is slender and womanly, jaw line delicate. Lips are a light coral-pink and often turned into a distant frown, lessening the beauty of an otherwise pretty face.

Moire is tiny. Standing at a meager 5’3, weighing in at just 100 pounds, incredibly pale and bony into the bargain. sometimes it’s a wonder she manages to stay on her feet. More often than not dark circles indicate lack of sleep, but some say this is lessening. Few agree.

Personality~ Some (Many, in truth) wonder why the heck Moire is still alive- after all these years in the asylum, nothing about her has changed. Mood is ever-distant, opinions indifferent. She is almost emotionless, hardly sociable unless jerked out of her absent aura.

‘Tis a shame that the younger Moire did not stay- the bright, friendly child that was more social than one could imagine the current Moire. It would have been better for her to stay that way.
Likes~ Any representation of the Greek gods- she hordes them. Another thing that she’s managed to keep after her transformation- she loves grape soda. For some unusual reason.
Dislikes~ Being kept away from what she wants to do, losing her gods, and being pressed into stressful activity.
Traits~ She carries a ballpoint pen in her pocket at all times, and that’s what she uses to draw her phrase everywhere she goes.

History~ Understanding Moire is difficult. But hey- let’s just start at the beginning and go from there.

She was born to a major in Celtic mythology and a major in Greek mythology in the year 1994. Her mother, the Celtic major, gave her the name Moire and her father as the Greek major gave her her middle name. As scholars her parents were successful, keeping the house warm and stomachs full. And of course, she naturally grew up knowing a lot about mythology.

But that was all it was, until Moire was thirteen. It was the day that her father finally cracked and took her along to the museum where he worked, and the day that a very special statue was brought for examination and display.

It turned out to be a statue of the god Apollo, shaped from perfect white marble and with an incredibly lifelike quality even for its time period. It was pure white- unpainted like some. Several people complained that they’d heard something inside it, but thirteen-year-old Moire ignored the talk and approached the statue. And then, foolishly, she looked into its eyes.

The first thing she heard was the voices. Then the images- then the one flash of writing going across her vision.

Οι θεοί θα πρέπει να ελευθερωθεί. At the time, she didn’t know what it meant. But that hardly mattered as the images stopped and she crumpled to the floor.

Later, reports from bystanders said she’d frozen in place staring into the statue’s eyes. For a few moments she’d just stood there rigidly, then collapsed. Her father took her home, and they thought she’d be okay.

Then the hallucinations started. The same visions she’d seen in the god’s eyes: The twelve gods of Olympus, snatches of Greek writing, words in an unknown language. She was never able to remember them long enough to explain them to her parents- until she started writing one on the walls.

For some reason, her mother wasn’t surprised. Neither was her father. Quickly translating them, he related them to his wife alone and explained the situation. “Possible hallucinations- something Greek. Definitely happened in the museum.” Mrs. Spinnet knew better than to argue, and they quickly agreed to send her to St. Peter’s for treatment.

Four years has passed since the museum, and not only has she not improved but she’s declined. Despite her parent’s care they wound up neglecting their daughter, and now she has no visitors. Just declining into certain mental breakdown, she wanders the halls of the asylum.
Current Placement~ Patient- Medium security

Obsessions~ To the confusion of everyone else on their meaning, she has a tendency to write the phrase she supposedly ‘saw’ in the statue’s eyes everywhere she can. Anything that’s still for more than three seconds is go- her clothes, the walls of her room, all over her skin. It’s not surprising to catch her doodling it on couch cushions or tablecloths.

Other~
In all their mysterious glory…

Οι θεοί θα πρέπει να ελευθερωθεί

Upon enrolling her Mr. Spinnet revealed that the letters mean "The Gods must be freed", which rather fits in with her connection with Apollo. No one knows for sure what happened or how as of yet.


RELATIONSHIPS~

[Jo comment history]

Name: Quella Miller

Age: 15

Gender: Female.
Orientation: Straight.

Appearance:


One of those glad days...


Said something, punk?

Ah, yes. Quella is a basic ginger, with long, wavy, fiery red hair, ironically enough. Her milky white skin betrays the fact the nearly her entire back is burned. She has deep, brown eyes. Close-up observations of meeting Quella include her stuttering, a consistent fear of fire, her somewhat deformed fingers from earlier injuries and a limp.

Personality: Paranoid. Quella is a skittish and cowardly girl, reduced to stuttering. Some excuse her because of her past, but her past is one of the least traumatic of St. Peter's Asylum. She is also extremely fond of solitude, and finds a strange comfort in listening to Debussy, and Debussy only. She insists in having her food brought to her room-- and rarely gets her request. She rarely smiles, but she does in her "glad days": usually the first rain after a period of drought, after sketching something beautiful, or after being completely alone for a day.

History: Quella Miller was born in Nebraska to Corporal Francis Miller and Denisa Schmidt in Omaha, Nebraska. She lived a difficult childhood plagued by epilepsy, which caused several hallucinations to the once happy girl. After being made fun of in school, she homschooled with her equally indefense mother, whose sickness had transmitted to her daughter.

Corporal Miller was killed in Iran shortly after Mrs. Miller's birthday, which triggered her depression. She constantly neglected Quella, who meanwhile was being passed around too much, and on the eve of Quella's fourteenth birthday, set the house on fire. Mrs. Miller was incinerated. Quella nearly didn't get out, but her back had several third-grade burns and she refused to accept skin grafts at all. After she attacked an innocent bystander after he made fun of her, her foster parents tried to get her to talk. All they understood that Quella was having delusions about the fire, and claimed she attacked the citizen because she sounded like her mother."

Current Placement: Patient

Obsessions: None.

Relationships: None yet.

[Faith Noelle, The comands we give are always followed by orders. :) comment history]

Name: Jessica Chance
Age: 15

Appearance:

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female

Personality: Jessica’s personality has changed over the years. She used to be funny outgoing loving, that all changes now she is very quiet and doesn’t talk much.

History: Jessica Chance was born 1996 May 13th in Brain Ohio to the parents of Lauren and Zach Chance. Jessica is their only child so they will go to the ends of the earth for her that’s how much they care. Jessica was prefect in their words she had all A’s a loving boyfriend Taylor Johnson who also would do anything for her to see her smile. Jessica loved school, loved her life everything was fine until she started using Meth. That’s when Jessica’s grades went from A’s to F’s Taylor left her and her parents stopped trusting her. She didn’t care anymore; all she cared about was how she is going to come up with enough money to get her next fix aka high. On the day of January 18th 1997 she will regret ever getting high; while she was high she brain made her do crazy things, things she would never do otherwise. That’s when she murders her parent’s with a knife and fork. After, the murderer Jessica became a whole different person, she wouldn’t talk to her friends, she stopped doing drugs the only thing she did do was school and maybe grab a bit to eat at to local dinner. Jessica’s grandparents became extremely worried with Jessica so they took her to St.Peter’s to see if they could help her.

Current Placement: Patient, high security
Obsessions: Her string, she loves tying knots in her sting, it helps her clam herself. You will always find some sort of string in her hand.

Other: N/A

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

Name: Smantha Kaylah Senatra
(but goes by several other names)

Age: Seventeen
*DOB: February 6th

Gender: Female
*Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Like so many other patients, Sam's skin has lost some color. She has paled to a light black, almost like a Milatto. But she is still the darkest patient by far.

Chances are that you'll never miss Sam if you're in eyesight of her. She struts around in the most outlandish and interesting clothes. Most articals of clothing are quite flashy and revealing, always making the adminastrators flinch when they catch sight of her.

Large orbs of light topaz for eyes settle themselves above prominant cheekbones. Her eyelashes aren't the longest or the thickest around, but Sam is advanced in the make-up department and often gives her eyes flare with false eyelashes and other assorted sorts of eye make up.

Sam's hair is anything she wants it to be. In her dorm she has hundreds and hundreds of wigs of various lengths and colors. Her real hair has dissapeared without hopes of returning.

Due to the same disease that took Sam's hair and is slowly taking her lashes, the only eyebrows this chick has are the ones she draws on with her hundreds upon thousands of eyeliner. There is a color for each eyeliner to match her wigs, but she also has other colors to mix and match with for her eyes.

To anyone who doesn't know Sam, one quick look at her and she would be labled as a fake without any reconsideration. But then to those who know her, they know Sam's story behind the glitz and glam.


Sasha, the orphan with a bad temper


Mary the hooker...


Angelica, the shy sweetheart who favors bright colors


Ava the Roman princess


Amelia, a girl living on the streets with a love for gymnastics.


Meet Natalie.


Aquafina loves to shop in the city.


A character in progress.


First and favorite; Shequandilla.


Miranda loves to dance...

Personality: Sam is a creatice individual, always. That is one quirk that will never leave her, no matter who she is.

Sam has multiple personalities, all created by her. She can't take the sorrow and frustration inside herself, and insteadmakes herself a different person with her own backround and such every day. One day, she can be a hyper, giggly candy-addict and the day after she can be dark and sinister daugher of a retired assassin with a cold esterior aand hard heart.

History: As a child, it was hard for Sam. Not only did she hold a different, more creative opinion on everything in school than her classmates, but she was the only African-American child around. She was different in many ways, making her an easy arget for the other kids to tease. Sam was quickly labled as the oddball.

At home, things weren't much better. Sam's parents constantly fought, usually resulting in sobs from the bathroom where her mother locked herself. Her father took to alcohol like his wife took to drugs. Usually he would come home plastered, the slightest thing able to set him off into an abusive rage.

At the early age of eleven, Sam used make up to cover the bruises rather than long, heavy clothing. By the time she was twelve, Samantha was an expert.

By high school, her fellow piers had come up with some harsher, more creative insults that struck a little too close to home. "Hey Sam, what's with all that make up? Helping you mother on the corner tonight?" Other harsh comments involving drugs and racist things.

It was not yet winter when Sam heard the shot of a gun upon approaching her house one day after school. It turns out that Sam's mother had owned a gun. A close neighbor had heard the shot, and called the police. By the time they arrived, Sam was already at the scene.

The police whisked Sam out of the house, away from the bloody mess that had been her mother and out into the yard for questioning. After that, her father was called and the body was driven to the morgue. Sam's father locked himself in his room for the rest of the night.

Crying over her loss, Sam thought that she had to grow tougher if she were to survive her father. But she couldn't, she wasn't that way. That's when Shequandilla came into her head. A girl who's mother had died in childbirth, and Shequandilla had been living on the streets, growing up as a hooker just to get enough money to eat. A whole person appeared before Sam's eyes, and she went to work creating Shequandilla. The next day at school, none of the kids could recodnise Sam with her new make up, clothes, hair, and personality.

Every week, Sam would create a new person to become, leaving herself behind. She purchased thousands of different wigs, eager to cover the bald head that the disease, Alopecia Areata had given her. The teachers were confused, but didn't say anything. The students were intreagued. Her father was angry.

Not recodnising Sam's tactics to becoming a better persons, Sam's father grew a whiplash from the different names andpersonalitites. After all, there were about fifty of them. He sent her off to St. Peter's then with nothing else to lose, jumped off a bridge and killed himself.

Current Placement: Patient-- low security

Obsessions: Her people,personalities, real-life characters. Whatever they are, she is obsessed with them and keeps them all documented. She keeps their files in her dorm, and looks over them to choose a personality each day. All their clothes and hair pieces go into neat boxes with their names on them. Sam is always trying to improve her personalities whether it be thier looks, their lives, or their personalities, there is always room for improvment.

Other: The strange disease has left Sam wth no hair, or eyebrows, only a few eyelashes that dissapear more and more each day. There is no cure, but it is not fatal.

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

Name~ Emmiline Ava Minstrel
Nickname/akas~ Em, Emmy

Age~ Sixteen
DOB~ Thirty-first October

Gender~ Female
Orientation~ Undetermined

Appearance~

Top Hat!

Hair Net.

Cookie. Or two?

Tricycle?

A once-was brunette, Emmiline has since run a can of magenta hair dye through her chocolaty brown locks. Now it falls just to her shoulder blades in pinkish-red locks, parted neatly off to the side of her heart-shaped face. Brown eyes are framed by thick lashes and arched eyebrows that show the previous color of her hair, neatly tweezed like any teenage girl’s eyebrows.

Emmy is a small girl, only hitting about 5’4, but she’s also weighted moderately enough that she doesn’t look unhealthy. She weighs about 110 pounds, curved delicately. A sweet smile is always painted on tiny carnation-pink lips, and more often than not eyebrows are risen in a quirky expression of surprise. Her wardrobe reflects a quirky attitude: short but well-flared dresses, bright socks, glittery fabrics, and vibrant jewelry. Brightly painted fingernails and eyeliner applied as thickly as possible add to this.

Personality~ Emmy is a quirky child. She hasn’t grown into her teenage maturity yet, still into her more childish state of mind. In the daytime she’s friendly, a little wary, but only too cheerful. Emmiline is a people person, it’s all too clear. She also tends to be a little gullible, which has wound up her undoing.

It’s the nighttime that makes Emmiline so paranoid, ready to scream at the slightest sound or shadow. They haven’t really managed to understand her fear, or to clear it. Her fears are a little more than accelerated in the nighttime, or whenever the darkness threatens something she can’t see.
Likes~ Grape soda, being warm, colored markers, PIXAR movies, K-Pop, Nerd candies, hats, and the TV show Glee.
Dislikes~ Singing (She’s terrible at it), suspenseful movies of any kind at all, antisocialists, politics, and diet sodas.
Traits~ She’s always wearing a hat, for one thing. For another, she never even bothers to try the goop they serve in the cafeteria for meals.

History~ Before starting, let’s just clear up a few things.

First, Emmiline’s mother was very paranoid about everyone in her family being in bed by nine o’clock each night. Even on new year’s, mind you. Secondly, the bedrooms occupied by her and her elder brother were connected by a single closet. Third- Joey Minstrel loved keeping his younger sister on his toes.

Emmy’s early years were fairly normal. Her family was middle-class, her school about average, and her parents loving. Sadly, things like this never last and this one poofed in her ninth year.

One night while Mr. and Mrs. Minstrel were out, the babysitter decided to let the two watch a movie. Ironically enough, it was Monsters Inc. Not that bad, right? To the gullible nine-year-old child, it was her undoing.

The babysitter started the movie a little late, for one thing. They hadn’t even seen Boo before the children’s parents returned and called the movie off. The sitter took her movie home, and they never saw it again. The second problem was Emmy’s own gullibility. Having seen only enough of the movie to see Scareers in action, it only encouraged her childish fear of the monsters in her closet.

Emmiline’s third problem was Joey. Her thirteen-year-old brother found his sister’s fear a perfect outlet for his own sadistic nature, beginning to torture the nine-year-old with his own brutality. He started with the normal stuff: whispers before bed, growls in the heating vents, the works. Then he finally broke the dam with his ultimate prank.

Ten-year-old Emmy had been sent to bed, and an hour had passed so Joey could be sure his parents were asleep. Emmy wouldn’t be asleep, he knew- she was far too alert and wary of the monsters. Donning a Halloween mask, he added his old monster pajamas into the mix and hid in the closet that joined their bedrooms. He started the routine with a few growls, venting his amusement into the ruse. He wasn’t disappointed when her fear increased, and then a few whimpers escaped the girl’s lips. His inner brute encouraged he growled again, and then with this unusual glee he slid the doors open.

The roars and screams that followed could have been from any little kids playing at monsters- but Emmy’s screams were too panicked and Joey’s laughs of glee too loud. But it was the snapping for the poor girl- the final breaking point.

After the last prank, childish fear grew to paranoia. Nightmares spilled into her waking world, increasing into the hallucinations of a crazed girl. Her parents had already been concerned- but when the Minstrels caught her poised with a knife above her chest they were a little more than just concerned.

Investigations ensued, and the Minstrels finally unearthed little Emmiline’s fears. The monsters. She claimed that perhaps when she died, they’d stop coming and leave her family alone. Then Joey finally decided to come clean, and the fourteen-year-old let his secrets loose. The pranks, the pain, the whispers. And then the bullying at school. The peer pressure, the anguish, the down casting. The hunt for an outlet that he finally found in his frightened sister.

So things were decided: Joey was sent to a student counselor, and Emmiline was sent to St. Peter’s.

Six years have passed finally, and amazingly she’s improved if but a little. Hallucinations and nightmares have calmed, and her parents tend to visit now and again. Joey visited, once. He came and stood on the other side of the visitor’s glass looking at her, simply mouthing the words “I’m sorry” before turning away. She never saw him again, although her parents frequently speak of him during their visits.

Current Placement~ Patient- Low Security

Obsessions~ Hats. Emmiline finds in them a security, the feeling of a firm covering on her head and sometimes over her eyes. She has at least a dozen hats stowed in her closet, one on her head at all times. Another is keeping away from the monsters- or so she thinks. The doctors have diagnosed her with mild schizophrenia into the bargain, and no one has been surprised.

Other~

RELATIONSHIPS~

[Lauren comment history]

Name: Chloe Strickland
Gender: Female
Age: 15

Appearance: Chloe is always told she looks older than she is. With her dark mahogany hair and skin followed by her long legs. She’s 5’6; pretty tall for her age. She almost always has her hair yanked back in a messy bun, or a neat ponytail. Maybe even a braid; but that’s only when she’s in a good enough mood to fix her hair.

Her eyes are sea foam green, very light and pale. If you look close enough, you might find that there are gorgeous flecks of blue and gold, making them brilliant in the sunlight. Chloe likes smearing on a light layer of Glitter Gloss on her lips, usually strawberry or cotton candy flavor.


Good morning, sunshine...


Sassy girl.


Kiss me?

Orientation: Strait

Personality:
Even though Chloe might not look too friendly at times, she can be the bubbliest girl you’ve ever met. Whenever something exciting happens, she’s right there with everyone, jumping up and down. When something good happens to her, or she can’t wait for something, Chloe likes to clap and squeal. Some people think she’ annoying and that makes her sad.

Chloe is very sensitive with her feelings and if someone bullies her, she might just burst out in tears right there and then. She hates when people are mean to others.

History:
Chloe’s mother and father knew she was special from the day she was born. Born to Suzanne and Martin Strickland, she was their first child, followed by her little sister Melody.

She lived with her family for four years in Australia and after that, they moved to America so Martin could take on his promotion. When Chloe was four years old, she began babbling about stars being born after her mother dropped two pans together; making a loud ringing noise.

Suzanne dismissed it as nothing, as her daughter was just a child. After they moved, they enrolled Chloe into school. That’s when everything went downhill for the darling girl. Her teacher asked her to repeat the alphabet when Chloe started talking about how A was the color blue and violet mixed together; it was calm, confident and always in control. B is female. A southern belle. She named each letter followed by a color and its own personality, and that’s when everyone started to worry.

She would tell her friends that the black numbers on their tests were so pretty. Her friends asked her why, and she answered with colors. Suzanne took her to a doctor and he told them she had synesthesia. Cleo is able to see black and white in color, and everything at a different perspective.

Her mother didn’t like this. Chloe’s father wasn’t allowed to make a decision. Suzanne was always bullying him into agreeing with her. That’s when Cleo was put in St. Peter’s, at the age of eight. Suzanne said that Chloe was crazy; a failure.

Current Placement: Patient; low security

Obsessions: Music. Chloe is obsessed with music and is always humming or whistling. She constantly writes new songs and bangs them out on her keyboard.
Other: She speaks with an Australian accent.

[[deleted user]]

Name: Eli Lidian
Age: 17
Appearance:




Orientation:
Bisexual
Gender:
male
Personality:
Eli does not talk, so a lot of people don't understand what he does. He does a lot of things to try to be nice to everyone. Eli tries to be kind to everyone and he hates making enemies. He listens to people a lot and loves to observe, which is made easier because people generally ignore him. He also loves to read, pain, draw and is a photographer.
History:
"His mother grew up in a cult where she was surrounded by evil men. She grew to hate ever man she ever met, and at the age of fourteen, as a mental patient gave birth two twins, Eli and Zoe. She hated Eli with a passion and was obsessed with the idea that both of her kids were possessed by an evil spirit. She would beat them until they were unconscious, Zoe always trying to protect her selectively mute brother, but it never worked. Around the age of seven the state found out about the kids and they were both sent to foster care.

Because of Eli's unstable mental condition the two were always kept together except for the last time before Eli was admitted to the Asylum. During their time in the foster care system they were constantly assaulted and beat. Sometimes Zeo would be raped and sometimes Eli, and once and a while, both were.

Zeo's brother, Eli, is selectivly mute because he is scared of what will happen if he talks. The state did not know the full extent of his illness ( He is schizophrenic and has post traumatic stress disorder along with some anxiety disorders) But they found out when they separated him from him sister. When his foster father started in on him, he stabbed him quickly in the chest.

The man did not die but Eli was sent here and so Zoe packed her things and ran away from the system. Under a fake identity, she bought and got a job at the asylum saying she was Eli's cousin. "
Current Placement:
Patient
Obsessions:
He is selectively mute and does not communicate but he is constantly taking photos.
Other:
He is schizophrenic and has post traumatic stress disorder along with some anxiety disorders. His sister is Zoe.
http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=44...

[❤ℭℓαîяℯ❤ comment history]

Name: Alice Elizabeth Stone
Age: 14
Appearance: http://i.backpackgnome.com/7108644844...
Orientation: undetermined
Gender: female
Personality: scared, confused, very emotional; can't handle sadness, change, or fear very well
History: Alice was in a coma for three years. No one knew exactly why she was in a coma, but they had a pretty good idea of what happened that night. Alice murdered her parents. She was the only one found. Her mom had called the police in a panic, but could barely say anything but her address, and her desperate cries for help. The rest was just screams. When the police and ambulances got there, both the parents were dead and covered in blood. They had been stabbed. The only survivor was Alice, holding a bloody knife in her hand, but out cold. They found her and took her to the hospital, keeping her alive for three years before she finally woke up. That was 2 weeks ago. They tried to question her. The only problem is that she remembers almost nothing of real importance. She remembers all the facts she learned at school; the civil war, the great depression, long division, but nothing about her friends, her family, or her life. She never told them the one thing she remembered; the voices telling her, the night of the incident: "do it Alice, its your only choice". The other strange thing was she had no records. There is no Alice Elizabeth Stone alive today, as far as anyone knew. Sometimes though, she remembers bits and pieces of who she was, and what she did in the past. Not things of great importance, but more like a face or a word she used to hear a lot. Overall it doesn't add up to much. Every once in a while, she'll wake up screaming, but later has no idea why she screamed, or that she even screamed in the first place. She was sent to St. Peter's Asylum for murder and complete loss of memory. She hears the voices sometimes too. She always hears them, and feels like she's forced to follow their advice. Her first memory of the voices, and her first memory at all was the voices screaming at her "do it Alice, its your only choice".
Current Placement: Patient; low security
Obsessions: The 'voices'. She must listen to their every word. If they tell her to do something, she'll do it. She never had a choice. They haunt her, and yet she is somehow forced to listen. She has no one else to listen to. After all, she's been asleep for 3 years. Maybe if someone were to become close to her, she would start to remember her past...
Other: She loves to write about how she feels, and she writes whatever she remembers. Her few belongings are a notebook, a pencil, and obviously, some clothes.

[[deleted user]]

( So, when I first posted on here somehow is dissapeared, I really don't know why, but I have taken it as a chance to just re-do everything)

Name: Zoe Lidian
Age: 17
Appearance:



Model: Kayla Ferrel from America's Next Top Model.
Tatoo:
http://i937.photobucket.com/albums/ad..."
Orientation:
Bisexual
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Zoe is cautious but still very caring. She is polite, and tries to be very respectful. She works her hardest at everything and normally feels very guilty. She blames herself for her brother's illness.
History:
When Kayla was given to her mother in the hospital, her mother screamed and dropped her to the floor. She was born to a paranoid schizophrenic mother with her twin brother Eli who was born a few minutes after her.

Her mother grew up in a cult where she was surrounded by evil men. She grew to hate ever man she ever met, and at the age of fourteen, as a mental patient gave birth two twins, Eli and Zoe. She hated Eli with a passion and was obsessed with the idea that both of her kids were possessed by an evil spirit. She would beat them until they were unconscious, Zoe always trying to protect her selectively mute brother, but it never worked. Around the age of seven the state found out about the kids and they were both sent to foster care.

Because of Eli's unstable mental condition the two were always kept together except for the last time before Eli was admitted to the Asylum. During their time in the foster care system they were constantly assaulted and beat. Sometimes Zeo would be raped and sometimes Eli, and once and a while, both were.

Zeo's brother, Eli, is selectivly mute because he is scared of what will happen if he talks. The state did not know the full extent of his illness ( He is schizophrenic and has post traumatic stress disorder along with some anxiety disorders) But they found out when they separated him from him sister. When his foster father started in on him, he stabbed him quickly in the chest.

The man did not die but Eli was sent here and so Zoe packed her things and ran away from the system. Under a fake identity, she bought and got a job at the asylum saying she was Eli's cousin.
Current Placement:
Volunteer and family member
Obsessions:
Not too bad but she is kind of obsessed with finding a way to fix her twin brother. She also has very bad nightmares and gets scared very easily.
Other:
She plays the guitar and sings a lot. She loves to paint, even though she is nearly blind. She watches a little kid named Ethan and a puppy names bear.
Bear:
http://favim.com/image/298786/
Ethan:
http://favim.com/image/303863/
Eli:
http://favim.com/image/286047/

[[deleted user]]

Name: Ethan
Age: 6
Appearance:

He has dark red hair and bright green eyes. They shine in the light.
Orientation:
Does not know yet
Gender:
Male
Personality:
Ethan is sweet and quiet. He likes to make new friends and exploring things. Ethan Tries to keep quiet but sometimes he can be loud. He is like many other things as little kids do, but can become reserved and distant.
History:
Ethan is very similar to many toddlers his age, and yet very different. He can become very depressed and has tried to kill himself twice before.

His mother was all he had and she dressed him up in dresses, and put make up on him. She would take pictures and things like that. Ethan kind of enjoyed this seemingly odd thing, because to him it was normal. It was just him and Mommy time.

One day, the evil man came to his home and he killed his mommy. Ethan hid underneath of his bed and watch the man rape his mother and beat her and killed her. The state took him and tested him, finding he was bipolar and unstable.
Current Placement:
Patient
Obsessions:
He loves to play games, but can be very hidden. He sometimes never talks to anyone.
Other:

[[deleted user]]

Name: Rosa Caden Amour ( she goes by Caden)
Age: 19
Appearance:





-Might be inappropriate, so I made it a link..
http://media1.santabanta.com/full4/gl...
Orientation:
-Straight. Or bisexual, she doesn't really know.
Gender:
-Female
Personality:
Caden is very sweet. She is a free thinking and loving person. She loves to just walk and wonder around. She spends a lot of time just laying in bed thinking. She has a very low self esteem and is very selfless she never puts herself first.
History:
Hoping to find a new life, Caden's then 13 year old mother moved to America. She started working as a bartender in Texas. By the age of 17 she was pregnant with her first child. She gave birth to a baby boy, with no heart beat. She had five miscarriages before she became pregnant with Caden.
Depressed by the losses of her babies, she had become a drinker. A heavy drinker at that. When she finally gave birth to Caden, She was drinking so much that Caden was born with alcohol infant syndrome.
Caden was very weak and unstable at birth. She was in the NIC-U (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) for months on end. When she was brought home, her mother was already on heroin from the depression. Her mother would smack her around and Caden was in the hospital very often.
To avoid home, Caden would spend her afternoons in the library, reading and writing her poems and stories. She was always beaten up and bruised when she was in there and finally her prince charming came to save her. A man about twenty three started dating her and would look after her.
She should have known it was all too good to be true. But, she did not. She looked up to him like a father but he would touch her all the time. She was only nine at the time so she did not understand. One day he raped her and beat her. She became pregnant after a year with him at the age of ten. She barley knew about sex then and had just began puberty. Around the same time she was diagnosed with lukemia. She also found out she was pregnant. When he found out she was pregnant, he did her mother and ran away. She was devastated and began her suicide attempts.
She realized that she was killing her baby like her mother had her by her attempts so she waited until she had baby Lillian. Then she began her tries again. After nine more years of tries, she was committed, leaving her then nine year old daughter to visit her on occasion.
Current Placement:
-Patient
Obsessions:
-She hates herself
Other:
-She is a leukemia patient and very frail.

[Nemphisi comment history]

Name: Lena Paters

Age: Seventeen (17)

Appearance: Lena has ebony hair, that hangs down to the bottom of her back, thick and slightly wavy. Her eyes are a electric green- grey, constantly changing between these two colors. She is slender, and tall, with a fit body. Her features are striking, save for a scar the curls from her hairline to cheekbone.

She is often seen in darker clothing, brown and black skirts, dark blouses and either a pair of ratty converse or deep ebony combat boots. But don't mistake her for Goth. If you call her out on it, she scream random, evil poems at you and cause harm. She perfers comfort, never donning skinny jeans or even jeans usually. And almost always a black jacket, thin and soluble.

Orientation: Straight

Gender: Female

Personality: She is very dark and brooding,but melancholy and looking as if she is always in thought. Lena does not speak often to others, and when she does people describe her as short and temperamental. She is very stubborn and strong-willed.

History: Lena grew up with quite cruel parents, who forced her to do chores constantly, was never allowed to do anything involving other people and was almost never let out of the house, save for school. She was a troubled child, getting sent home often with a behavioral slip and a note to the parents. Like they cared. They thought that all Lena ever did was complain and misbehave, although she never whined nor complained, and her behavior was not enough to constituted the regular beatings she received, leaving new bruises blossoming on her arms, legs and other parts every day. Her two saviors were books and a ratty notebook she carried about everywhere, for which she drew out elaborate poems, depicting the horrors her mind set upon.

One day, her mother searched her room, certain that Lena had stolen her mother’s stash of cake frosting to horde the sweet treat and eat it all herself. Instead her mother stumbled upon the many notebooks Lena had hidden in her closet. With a sadistic smile, her mother read every single word in the books, and determined Lena to be mentally ill. Lena freaked when she found out, after a confrontation with her mother at the door from school. According to Mrs. Paters, Lena pulled a gun and proceeded to trap her mother in a closet, from which Mrs. Paters called the authorities on her cellphone. Although the authorities never found a gun, nor weapon of any sort, Lena was sent to St. Peters. Many determined Lena as extremely ill in her mind, after her mother revealed the times where Lena would scream and thrash out in her sleep, and horded books as if they were food. Lena was put under key at St. Peters, labeled as an extremely ill person with a lot of ‘problems.’


Current Placement: Patient under high-security, after reported attempts that Lena tried to attack others and scream things in an 'insane' way.

Edit: Lena has been switched from high-security to medium security, because of her improvement in behavior and lack of any attacks in the past months.

Obsessions: She cannot live without her books (she has a collection of over 2,000) and she must have her notebooks. She has many notebooks and pens in which she writes almost as often as she reads.
She also has a strong viola and violin ability, able to wrench beautiful sounds out of the two instruments, and the music seems to soothe her.

Other: Lena will not talk to any unless they adress her, and even then she was hesitate a long while before speaking. Recently she has been reported to have raging nightmares, and tantrums within the confines of her room, seeming to scream and shout at a person only she sees.

[Oddity comment history]

Name: Dolly Straight
Age: 25
Appearance: Think Christina Perri with dark bags under her eyes, red scratches on her face, a green tattoo of a butterfly on her neck instead of the ones on her chest, and very pale green eyes. Keeps her nails very long and pointed.
Orientation: Lesbian (Which is quite ironic, considering her name)
Gender: F
Personality: Has many personalities, so I will attempt to name them all:
• Dark and Demented
Such behavior includes but is not limited to attacking all in sight, laughing maniacally and saying disturbing things (if it bothers you I'll just say "She said something creepy, etc.)
• Gentle and Quiet
In this attitude will either compliment you or stay seclusive, too shy to say anything. Usually acts rather sane like this.
• Annoying
Repeating and copying people, poking people, pretending she's a race cart driving around you in circles, and singing out of the blue words at the top of her lungs, the actions are endless.
History: Injured in a car a accident once, bullied from elementary through high school, never quite right to begin with, under strange circumstances was locked in a dark, empty room buzzing with white noise. That did her in, and was brought here after stealing large amounts of dairy products, screaming about fire. Her reasons are yet to be discovered.
Current Placement: Patient
Family Members: two brothers, a sister, and an elderly father, ask supportive and hoping for her recovery.
Obsessions: Vanilla milkshake Poptarts, orange lollipops, and chicken is all she eats. Wears a large, floppy purple hat and will scream bloody murder and claw at you if you attempt to take it away.
Other: Terrified of anything that buzzes.

[*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis), If I weren't a mod, I'd have my own cell here. XD comment history]

[Hope he's up to par, Fae(:]

Name: Drake Anthony Beech
Age: 16
*DOB- April 11th
Gender: Male
*Orientation: Straight

Appearance: Black upon black upon black upon black. Yup, Drake is goth. Aside from the first reason behind his black clothes and chain accessories, dressing goth is a contradiction to his personality and he loves it.

Artistically crafted natural black bangs sweep across Drake's forehead, lighlty falling into his warm brown eyes. Drakes likes to keep his hair long, even if it takes an hour or two with a straightener to make it just perfect.

Drake stands tall for his age, or any age really at a staggering 6'4. His body is well toned due to years stuck under cars and trucks and lifting heavy machinary. Drake tends to wear black v-necks or well fitting band t-shirts that conform slightly to his body. Baggy jeans complete his look, thought Drake isn't a big fan of naything too baggy so nothing gets caught in an engine.

Porceline skin brightly contrasts against the endless wardrobe of black Drake wears. He doesn't wear any makeup, preferring to keep his face clean and free of cosmetics. His eyes do not adourn any glamour or mascara but leaving them in their natural beauty. Two pools of warm dark brown able to read anyone's emotions while keeping his own as concealed as he'd like. Not that it matters much as his full bow lips the color of a fresh pink rose usually hold the key to figuring out how he feels. When he smiles, his sunken cheeks look a little more filled in.


Oh, hey.


It's all cool, man. Chill.



Personality: Drake strives for extraordinary, always determined to go against stereo-types and strike through originality. You'll know that just at a glance and then upon meeting this colorfult creature.

An odd but widely known thing about Drake is that he loves bets. Whatever you think he won't do, he probably will as long as it's within reason. Surprisingly enough, Drake has a good head on his shoulders and that head is filled with a well oxygenised brain that seems to work well enough. He's known for distracting patients with random facts and knowledgable information.

Charasmatic and openly-friendly is how Drake has won the hearts of his closest friends and patients at St. Peter's. Drake seems to always be wearing a smile or serene expression that suggests he's been drugged. In fact, he's been checked for drugs in the past becasue doctors suspected that he had been stealing some of the sedatives they use for his own consumption. Results showed that Drake was not drugged, but was just bieng Drake.

In truth, being so calm has helped both patients and fellow staff. Even in the most panic-stricken of situations, Drake can stay calm and keep other people in check as well. Because of his ability to "sweet talk" patients, Drake is usually asked to stay close to the patients that suffer from hallucinations and trances because he can talk them back into the realm of reality and stay calm himself.

Drake's serene nature also means that when it comes to being angry at a person or getting into a fight, he can't. Not very many people make him upset or down right angry and even if they did make him fighting mad, it wouldn't be worth anything. Drake's useless when he's upset, his body locking up with lack of grace and his brain seems to lack the ability for witty comments and insutls. Drake has reserved to the role of a pacifist, which he rather enjoys better, anways.

History: Drake had lived the fairly normal life of any boy living in a small town in Colordo. His parents, Emily Johnson and Anthony Beech had divorced when Drake was only six, but it hadn't fazed him much. He was happier that there weren't any fights and he had seen it coming long before they had announced their decision. He didn't even mind spending the summers out where his mom lived on a ranch house a few miles away from St. Peter's.

During his times at home in Colorado, nothing was ever out of the ordinary. Drake and his neighborhood friends would spend their days roaming through junk yards or the woods or even the big creek in town. As they got older they became more interested in mechanics and started to spend more time in the junk yard or making model cars. And just like any boys would do, there were always bets and dares.

At around thirteen or fourteen, Drake and his friends were marveling over the racecars that had been on display at the mall when Drake accidentally ran into a girl wearing all black. Alexia was in Drake's class at school, and he ahd always admired her for her extraordinary taste in clothing and style, though he'd never really talked to her before. His friends watched hwile Drake apologized and helped her with her bags before she ran off, and they were about howling with laughter by then. That's how The Bet came into play.

No one actually thought he'd do it, of course. Drake would be nice enough to talk to the goth people, but he'd never dress like one; and surely not for a whole year. But in the matter of a week, his wardrobe contained nothing but black and after a YouTube video tutorial for hairstyling, became the Drake that St. Peter's has come to know and love. His paretns panicked, afraid that this was some sort of delayed reaction to their divorce. Drake laughed them off and explained hte bet. Grudgingly, they allowed him to keep his style for a year. Eventually, they got used to the look and weren't very upset when their son decided that he liked the look and kept his goth style.

In the course of a year, someone else had noticed Drake's change and had apparently liked it. After months of talking to Alexia, he began to court her, finding that she was extremely unique and so interesting. He loved learning new things about her and there was so much to learn. Eventually, Alexia even took up space in the garage while Drake would work on a car and talked to her and his friends, who were uneasy at first aobut the relationship but they gave into the idea in time as well.

When Alexia was transferred to St. Peter's, it broke Drake's heart. His friends advised him to move on, but it was harder than he thought. There weren't any cars that needed fixing and Colorado became boring. When his mother called and told him that Alexia's institution was close to her ranch and looking for volenteers, he packed up his things and drove down to the ranch, promising his friends that of course, he;d visit at some point.

Now Drake resides at the ranch, though seems to be spending more and more time at St. Peter's where they've allowed him to volenteer. It's interesting there, more interesting than he ever thought a mental institutin could be. On the ranch, there's never a dull moment with the ATVs constantly breaking down (not that Drake really minds fixing them) and all the animals Drake and his mom now car for. It's like his own deranged paradise.

Current Placement: Volenteer
Obsessions: None. Unless you count fixing cars and other vehicals.
Other:
Relationships;
Alexia- Fellow goth girlfriend that resides at St. Peter's as a patient suffering form hallucinations. She's the reason that Drake is here in the first place. Not that he minds.

[Kat comment history]

Wonderful Silvy. :) He's sorta hot.

@ Oddity: She's interesting. Approved. :D

[Thera~ Rescuing you from sanity~, Our rules keep you from getting a cell of your own. comment history]

{Name} Thomas Theodore Donovan
{Aliases} Tom

{Age} Eighteen
{DOB} 16 October

{Gender} Male
{Sexual Orientation} Straight

{Appearance} Tom can easily be described as a stunner. Lanky build, piercing hazel eyes, tousled dark hair, and a kind expression. But that expression can also look pretty tortured.

Tom's brown hair falls to the back of his neck in a tousled mess, as he's always too busy to straighten it. The bangs stop before they reach his eyebrows, so he never has to worry about it falling into his eyes.

Tom is tall for his age at a solid six foot one, so he's used to (literally) looking down at his peers. This hardly seems intimidating, however, with his slight build and gentle face.
{Style of Dress} Tom dresses casually: Jeans, t-shirts, and the occasional hoodie with Vans. His hair is always a mess.


His ears are hurting again, eh?

Hang on to that sunshine, because it won't be there forever.

{Personality} Tom is a pained boy, attacked frequently by a ringing that has him losing his mind. But when he isn't curled up somewhere or playing his violin, he's a very outward kind of guy. Easy-going, kind, polite. Introverted, but not afraid to talk. Clever, but not always able to show it.

Tom can't always be so friendly, but he's always been a selfless person. If not distracted, he'd be wholly ready to help someone who needed it.

At his best, Tom is a joker. He's kinda happy-go-lucky when the mood takes him, and his way with words has a certain charm that can either have the gals swooning or the guys laughing.
{Traits} Tom's winning, permanent smile isn't quite as permanent as some may think. During one of his moods, he can take on a look of such anguish that it's hard to recognize him- but he's still the same person. Just in a little more pain.

{History} When Tom was eight years old, his mother tried to drown him in a bathtub.

No one was ever sure why. When cops broke in ten minutes later because the neighbors had heard screams, she released him and jumped out of the apartment's fifth-story window. She was dead by the time she hit the ground, but she'd left the government with an eight-year-old and half-dead boy.

Two days later, after a brief visit to the hospital, Thomas was diagnosed with several major issues: Emotional trauma and tinnitus, a perpetual ringing in his ears caused by the drowning incident.

His mind didn't go completely. But when he was diagnosed, it seemed that there was only one really suitable place for him: the asylum. He almost refused, but after several incidents where the ringing in his ears increased several pitches, he accepted. The government put his guardianship in the name of the state, and he was shipped off to St. Peters'.

Rigorous therapy followed. It seemed, however, that only one thing really stood out as helpful; the playing of the violin. He took the instrument himself, and as he played what was in his head it soothed his mind.

For the most part, Tom stays here with his violin. Aside from that minor therapy, there has been no improvement.

{Current Placement} Patient- Med./Low Security

{Other}
{Obsessions} Violin. He plays it almost all the time, and it soothes his ears. His violin and bow are always with him.

[Hope comment history]

Name: Jason William Turner

Age: Seventeen (17)

Appearance:



He’s at court, and he’s amused. Are you surprised?


A wolf in human’s clothing.

Jason is a reasonably attractive boy. With the covering of darker blonde hair on his head and his stunning green eyes close-set in a pale, oval-shaped face, he’s hard not to notice anyhow—but his build makes sure you’ll take note. Jason is tall, standing at a staggering six foot two, and tips the scales at over two-hundred pounds. He’s well built, and looks it. This boy’s muscles ad bulk are not at all hidden or unobvious. Moving back to his face, you’ll find this boy to have thinly arched eyebrows above his lovely (if slightly intimidating) dark green gaze, as well as a long, attractive nose, and full even lips that will sometimes part to reveal his white (if a little crooked) teeth. He wears a black stud in his right ear, and on the streets as well as at the asylum it’s pretty much become his trademark.



Orientation: Straight

Gender: Male

Personality: To put it simply, Jason is not a nice boy. Not nice at all. He’s unstable, a sociopath, a sadist, and truly, medically diagnosed with insanity. The result is a smooth but dangerous boy with two sides: one that he calls his “mask of sanity”, and his truer, harsher nature. In reality this boy is cruel but cunning, with a nice set of anger issues coupled with impulsiveness, a barbed tongue and a general cockiness that comes from years of being in control of his life and the things around him. Jason is a murderer who kills for the fun of the thing, and by god he acts like it when he lets that mask down. In truth, it’s terrifying, and you’d have to be crazy yourself not to be scared when the true side to this boy breaks free. But it rarely does, and then only during his rampages, only when he snaps.

Most of the time, it is hidden behind a carefully constructed mask: one of a cool, collected boy, easygoing and relaxed (though very sarcastic and rather biting in manner), who has a knack for acting and keeping himself reasonably under control. But please, please never be fooled—Jason is a crate of dynamite just waiting for a lighter, always ready to explode.

History: Born to a rich pair of entrepreneurs, Jason’s life, despite being laced with luxury, was never a very happy one. While successful, his mother was an alcoholic and liked to take out her nightly frustration on her son with her husband, but using words instead of fists. He was horribly emotionally abused as a child, and that’s when it started. His family, his home life—it’s what started his breaking. What’s worse, the abuse wasn’t limited to his house. It seemed to follow him everywhere.

Jason was conditioned at an early age to be polite and obedient and submissive, it’s all the ten-year-old boy knew at the time. And in his school, the kind of attitude the boy had wasn’t the kind you wanted, not when the halls where prowled by gangs of bullies just waiting for someone to pick on. Jason was their most popular victim. He was terrorized whenever opportunity allowed: when he walked to school, he was roughed up and got his lunch money stolen. In the halls, people made a show of shoving him against lockers. On the playground, beatings became routine and regular.

And that, coupled with the nightly bouts of screamed insults and the occasional dehumanization by his parents, was winding Jason up tight; very tight. And as he grew older he found it harder and harder to hold in all his emotions as he was expected to. So, occasionally, the boy just snapped. Over a span of a few minutes or, at worst, a few hours, he would go on what gradually became known as his rampages. He would go off on his own, often into the woods, with the switchblade he got for his birthday, slicing up anything that could scream or cry out. He would laugh as he did it, laugh because it gave him a fierce, wicked exhilaration to be able to have power for once; because he could finally let out all those emotions he bottled up inside.

And that was that for a while. Jason would wake up, endure daily bouts of abuse, and every weekend or so go off on a rampage. For a few years, that was just fine. But as time passed, he found it harder and harder to wait until the end of the week, found it impossible to put up with what he had to on a regular basis. A hunger in Jason began to fester and grow, and that hunger could only be satisfied by power. He craved the stuff; and it delighted him to have it. It delighted him to cause pain and watch suffering. It was as if he needed to do it in order to stay sane.

And maybe he did. Because by his fourteenth year, Jason had become an all-out sadist. His rampages were much more frequent, the raw emotions let out more powerful, his pleasure more intense. The switchblade’s spreading, faded red stains started to turn permanent, harder and harder to get out. Anybody with a brain could tell that Jason was getting worse—they saw the brutally mutilated animal corpses in lots of places. Despite that, everyone thought they themselves were safe. No one ever expected the sadist and rapidly developing sociopath to go after people.

But he did. Early in his fifteenth year, Jason took his first human life: a toddler he shot to death with a stolen pistol out on the playground at his old school. No one knew it was him, of course—he hid the gun well and was the perfect picture of innocence, even sent flowers to the girl’s family and attended her funeral. No, no one in that little town suspected Jason William Turner of anything despite his obvious anger issues and sadistic tendencies. Despite his inclination to go off by himself for the sole purpose of torturing things.

And his saint like appearance in the eyes of others was partly why he was able to get away with what he did. Over the span of the next two years, Jason got worse. Much, much worse. He killed again and again—taking human lives as well as animals’—feeding the devil inside him. By the time he was finally caught and sent to court he was seventeen, had killed at least four people, and by then too far gone to be thrown in prison. He was found not-guilty by reason of insanity, and then sent straight here where he is constantly monitored. He has no visitors.

Current Placement: Patient—High Security

Obsessions: Weapons. Blades, bludgeons, firearms—it doesn’t matter to Jason. He absolutely adores any type of instrument designed to inflict pain, to the point where he names his tools—that’s right. Names them. The few weapons Jason does own he takes very, very special care of. Never touch them without his permission, not unless you want to die.

Other: The doctors say Jason might have a minor case of bipolar disorder, and that that might be responsible for what everyone refers to as his “rampages”. He dismisses the claims.