St. Peter's Asylum discussion

Where all the residents that committed suicide, died from old age, or whatever can be buried by choice. Some doctors that spent their whole lives are buried here. Cold benches and dead flowers dot the depressing grounds, headstones erode and this is the oldest place in the whole asylum. It hasn't been updated to scan key so you need a physical bronze key to open the iron gate.

((Are you RPing with anyone?))

((Wanna RP with charlie?))

((Yeah!))

Charlie came up behind her, greeting her cheerily. "Hello, come to visit? Not very optimistic place is it?" He chirped, the keys on his lanyard clinking with each step he took. He was wearing a white T and jeans, he wasn't on duty at the time.

"Suicide?" Charlie asked, arching an eyebrow. His bright mood's volume got turned down a little. He jammed his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. "You're not getting in until you tell me why."

"Not with that muscle you can't." He could easily tell the stability and problems of each patient as soon as he met them, after all he's seen almost all the cases. Watching her for her next decision, he leaned against those 'measly gates' with the keys in his palm.

"Hey, that's not cool. My mother lived here, she was much more insane then you. I work here becuase I want to help people, and for you information she's buried here. So don't insult me like that, because I might not be your average guy but I have my reasons." He defended himself, raising an eyebrow and watching her.

"You're here because suicide is not an option anymore. Self abuse is a medical disorder and it can lead to bigger things and your guardians placed you here because they care for you and wish for you to stay in good health." He explained, as if she asked and did not know.

"Seriously, though. I do this job because I can't stand to watch people hurt themselves. And here, you won't find anything sharp that you can use to hurt yourself. Tough love dear." He persisted.

"I'm rocking the homosexual look." He retorted in a blatant, serious tone so it was hard to tell if he was joking (but he was). "And if you don't believe me go read the headstone "Eliza Baker, you will be missed." Charlie read in his best monotone voice.

"I thought you could 'easily climb over those measly gates'" He mimicked in a high pitched stereo type girl tone.

In fact, Charlie didn't hate her at all. It was hard for Charlie to hate anyone, because he just wanted people to have the best life possible. His reasons for the retorts were purely comical and he shrugged. "I won't stop you from doing anything unless it affects your well being." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Charlie knelt by her, used to emotional stress and he tried to explain the best he could. Taking out a sterile handkerchief he handed it to her, speaking softly. "You're here because we want to help you. And the first step to helping you is to stop hurting yourself," He knew all the patient files. "And the only way we do that is to separate you from it. Next is recovery, and trust me it gets easier after this."

"See, but everyone matters. Because if you died, then your parents would go into emotional relapse, then that would cause a chain reaction to your grandparents and so forth. And who knows? Maybe you'll find the cure to cancer someday. But the point is, there's no real meaning to life. Why does it matter anyway? It doesn't because once we do die the world will keep spinning, and once the world ends why will it matter anyway? So, my theory is stay healthy, love, laugh and have as much damn fun as you can." He tried to reason with her, a lecture he had long ago memorized and believed sincerely himself.

((Lol I didn't notice))
"No, I won't." He replied stubbornly. "I'm tired of people giving up their lives because of petty reasons. And I don't have anything better to do, that's why I'm here. To make a difference and help people. So stop it. Stop it right now. Stop being so pessimistic."

"You can't be fixed because you're not broken!" He persisted. "You just need a little help and another view on the world." He continued, shaking her by the shoulders desperately.

Charlie rubbed his jaw, smiling. "It's okay." He said, making weird faces as he tried to loosen the muscles. "I'm used to angry people, it's part of my career." Charlie added, "You're not though, it's just a reflex when strangers touch you, I probably should've thought about my actions."

"Don't say it." He said, falling back into a cross legged position.

"Sure, I wasn't keeping you here." He replied, watching her with a smile.

"Bye." He was is parting, unlocked the gates and entered the graveyard. Closing the gates behind him, he flashed a smile and clicked the lock shut.

(does anyone mind if I drop my new character here?)

(xD thanks!)

It was beautiful, in his magnificently corrupted mind. Along the bleak scenery, dead grass and crumbling earth, sprouted the worn and cracked gravestones of those who accomplished the task fate never allowed him to. He slowly walked through the gates and ran his hand over the name of one of the tombstones.
Graham, Maxwell
The name was followed by two dates and a dash. Was he a doctor, a patient? No one would know without looking for a record. It was a magnificently interesting thing, death. He let out a slow breath and moved along, tracing out the names.

Alec's head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes. It wasn't a good day for him, and his bad days could turn very, vey bad. He slowly moved up the row, his fingers tracing over every name on each headstone. He tried to focus himself more on that than the approaching footsteps. Maybe the person would leave him alone.

"What do you want?" Alec snapped. Of course the person wouldn't leave him alone. He glared up, irritated.

He frowned at her, unammused. "You just what?" he asked, brows drawn together. Now she had him curious.

"Well, that was obvious enough!" he snapped at her. "Are you stupid?" he asked coldly, acting crass. "You should know better than to go and talk to strangers, especially mentally insane ones--" he growled.

"Alec!" a softer, feminine voice cut off his rant. He scowled over his shoulder, sighing when he saw his sister running over. He scowled at the dirt, and soon felt her hand on his shoulder, driving away his anger. "Forgive my brother." she said wearily.

She smiled wearily at the young woman, apologetic. "Are you a patient here?" she asked calmly.

"Well of course she's a patient! Just look at her, she's as crazy as the rest of us!" he growled.

"Enough." she glared up at him. Even if she was older, he was still taller. She ran her fingers through her hair. "Can't you be nice, atleast to one person?" she scolded quietly.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" he shoved her away, causing her to stumble back and fall against a gravestone. From there she stared, wide eyed and upset. "I should go." she said quietly.

Alec watched his sister's retreat. He'd feel guilty later, and he knew it. His gaze flickered to the girl in front of him. "Well?" he snapped, raising his brows.

"Well, what did you want?" he asked coldly. "What did you just have to beother me for?" he demanded, standing up straight. "What could you possibly want?"

Alec cocked a brow at her, now more intreauged. "Well." he stated, taking a seat atop a large stone that sat half grasped by the earth below their feet. "What are you here for? In the asylum, I mean?"

He shrugged. "Multiple personality disorder." he replied. "I tried killing myself so many times that wehn I was stopped I almost killed my friend."

He shrugged. "I'm not." he replied with a shake of his head. "I'm crazy. Big whoop. I only regret not finishing myself off."

Alec nodded his head. It seemed as though his bad side had shied away, for now. "It's living with two personalities that kills me. I hate it."

He frowned. "That's not very fair. I tell you and you don't tell me? Secret keeping is bad." he tsk'd.

"And why's that?" he challenged. "Scared?" Alec mocked.

((Nice roleplay, we're gaining some plot here! Just to remind you, dialogue is great! But body language is key, add a few hints in there like nervous fiddling and stuff. Don't listen to me.. *sigh* I'm a mad hatter.))

(it's alright nwn I'm sorry I'm kinda scatterbrained with finals)

Alec let out a bitter laugh, crossing his arms in front of himself. He leaned against the wall and watched her, unammused. "What, will the voices come and get you if you do?" he mocked, sarcasm thick in his alto voice.

((No worries! You guys are doing great. I just ramble because I have nothing else to do.))

His eyes flashed in an amused way. "Ah-hah!" he smirked. "So that's it, huh? You hear voices?" he prodded. "That's not too bad, I suppose."

He rolled his eyes. "You're pretty irritating, you know that?" he remarked, getting up. He shook his head and started out again, movng around the cemetary and ran his fingers across each name that was engraved into the headstones.

"I would assume so, as long as you act this way all the time." he commented, walking around the dying patches of grass and up toward the top of the cemetary. "I wouldn't be surprised in the least." he muttered to himself.

"I don't think anything will be." he commented. "Unless my sister puts something on. My family hates me. They think I've gone mad." he replied, then looked at her with a wicked grin. "But who am I kidding? I am mad. Entirely mad!"

(Just a warning, tomorrow I leave for a 10 day vacation and might be able to post once a day, maybe.)

((We'll miss you!))

(thanks guys!)

He laughed bitterly. "Coming from Alice, it'll be Here lies Alec, though he wasn't here with us, he will remain in our hearts or something cheesy like that." he grumbled. "She's so stubborn. She doesn't understand what I want out of life."

He shrugged. "I've wanted to get out of here." he said seriously. "To be normal. To get away from my alter ego. I've lost so much all because of my problem."

He snorted. "You're telling me that?" he replied, ignoring her muttering to herself. "I know it'll never happen, but I mean.. If the Meds never help then what am I supposed to do!"

"..Exactly." he said with a shrug. "There's really nothing to do, I can't be efficent without ending up humiliating myself. I'll end up being the psychopath on the news that holds himself hostage."

He snorted. "Cool?" he echoed. "What are we, five?" he smiled slightly. "Well, even so, I thank you." he said with a slight smile playing on his lips. He shook his head and looked up at the greying sky. "Ah well." he muttered. "Suicidal or not, it's still a compliment, is it not?"

"Who knows." he replied, tracing out the letters slowly. "J-e-s-s-e H-a-y-n-s." he spelled out with an unnammused look. It didn't say anything under the name. Just a name. That was his fate, though.

"I only miss certain people. I usually miss Alice, but I make her hate me by hurting her." he mused. "I miss my friend, but he won't talk to me because of my attempt to kill him after my suicide attempt." Alec sighed. "Oh well."