This Looking For RP topic is marked as closed, meaning it is no longer seeking new players.
(Looking for fellow patients, doctors/therapists, guards or nurses. I can RP here through RPR, or Discord. If you're interested, message me and I'll give you my info!)
It was a chilly, foggy Wednesday morning, no hustle and bustle of the city to fend off the rolling mists out here. The Institute was close enough to the city to be accessible, but far enough away that the city-folk didn’t have to see the crazies- and far enough away to where any escapees would most likely be caught before reaching the city and all it’s hiding places. It was one, long dirt road off Exit 12, flanked by thick pine forests on either side that stretched for miles. The building its self was ominous, towering into the grey sky, it’s concrete walls with chipping white paint nearly blending into the dreariness. Corralling the looming building was a 30-foot tall wire fence, prison style. Three watch towers stood proudly, two in both corners of the back yard behind the building, and one in the front beside the opening gate. It was a chillingly eerie setting, especially this dismal morning, with the sea of fog crawling from the dark pine forest surrounding the Institute, threatening to swallow up anything in it’s path.
Inside was about as bleak as the exterior, colorless and sterile looking. White or pale blue walls lining the white tiled floors, florescent lights that reflected off the white surfaces and blinded sensitive eyes. Every hall looked terribly the same, creating a labyrinth within the five-story structure that could hurt the mind. The first story was the doctor’s offices, medical rooms and the reception, the second held the cafeteria, shower rooms, storage closets, an ‘entertainment’ room complete with a box TV, a couch and set of overly stuffed arms chairs, and some books and puzzles to keep broken minds busy. The next three floors up were Patient Quarters. Halls line with doors, the third story being for the lesser sickened people, the people who were more trustable and compliant, these people were kept two to a room. The patient files got worse as the elevator goes up. The fourth was for less stable people, who couldn’t be trusted with room mates and were held alone in their room. The fifth was solitary. Dangerous and psychotic patients were kept up there, locked alone in rooms barely able to be labeled as more than a cell. Each floor had a guard station (a desk with an uninterested looking male seated) beside the elevator doors and each floor had a color code of t-shirt they were given. Third floors wore white, fourth wore grey and fifth wore black, all patients usually given black or grey sweat pants to wear. Third floor patients were allowed to wander freely from their floor to the second after Wake Up at 7AM, monitored of course by staff and cameras.
There were hushed rumors amongst the patients, whispered to one another in the dark, about basement levels of the Institute, where patients are escorted to and never return from.
On this early Wednesday morning, the white van used to pick up patients from the city was being let in through the gate with a haul, gravel crunching under the heavy tires. Once parked, two men in pale grey uniforms hopped out, heading to the side with the sliding door that faced the steps up to the Institute. They were like robots in their movements and their lack of emotions as they pulled a leggy, blonde woman from the dark interior. She squinted against the hardly there light from the overcast sky, the chill in the air nipping her skin. As soon as she was out and on her feet, they tried to lead her forward towards the doors, but her shapely legs looked to wobble and give from under her, causing her to crumple.
After some irritated debating, one of the men picked her up and hung her over one of his broad shoulders, like a rag doll. She seemed limp and looked very obviously out of it – drugged, whether from her own recreational will or with Institute-grade sedatives. She had a pair of almond shaped eyes, half lidded currently, dark green irises with enlarged pupils rolling around behind the thick eyelashes, the whites faintly blood shot. The large size of her eyeballs pressed against the shadowed undereye skin, exaggerating the ‘bag’ look. Her skin was pale, unhealthily pale, and she was skinny. She had large, pillowy lips that were badly chapped, one spot split a smidge and crusted with dried blood. Her cheek bones were strong and prominent under her eyes, made more dramatically so by her current gauntness. Bleached blonde, untoned and uncombed hair hung around her face, swaying with the movements of the staff carrying her. She wore a black tank top, a pair of what looked like PJ shorts with a blue plaid pattern, her exposed arms and legs covered in goosebumps and greenish bruises, her feet were bare, and the soles blackened by dirt.
Once she’d been hauled in, she was carried to the third floor where she was placed in an empty room on one of the two twin sized beds inside. She was left to roll lamely around on the starchy sheets, trying to sit herself up while the staff went to fetch her Institute clothing and have a nurse come check her out, then register her with a file. She moaned softly through the cloudiness in her head, trying to get her sight to focus on any one thing. It was just a colorless blur, everything looked like the same thing and the lights made it very hard for her to keep her eyes open more than a crack.
“Aayy!” She managed to groan out slurred-ly, her voice sounding hoarse and raspy, but loud enough to be heard from the hall. Holy shit, was her head throbbing. She tried to groan again, ‘Where?’ or a ,’What’s going on?’, but all that managed to escape her was a weak, unintelligible groan, “T’fffff?”
It was a chilly, foggy Wednesday morning, no hustle and bustle of the city to fend off the rolling mists out here. The Institute was close enough to the city to be accessible, but far enough away that the city-folk didn’t have to see the crazies- and far enough away to where any escapees would most likely be caught before reaching the city and all it’s hiding places. It was one, long dirt road off Exit 12, flanked by thick pine forests on either side that stretched for miles. The building its self was ominous, towering into the grey sky, it’s concrete walls with chipping white paint nearly blending into the dreariness. Corralling the looming building was a 30-foot tall wire fence, prison style. Three watch towers stood proudly, two in both corners of the back yard behind the building, and one in the front beside the opening gate. It was a chillingly eerie setting, especially this dismal morning, with the sea of fog crawling from the dark pine forest surrounding the Institute, threatening to swallow up anything in it’s path.
Inside was about as bleak as the exterior, colorless and sterile looking. White or pale blue walls lining the white tiled floors, florescent lights that reflected off the white surfaces and blinded sensitive eyes. Every hall looked terribly the same, creating a labyrinth within the five-story structure that could hurt the mind. The first story was the doctor’s offices, medical rooms and the reception, the second held the cafeteria, shower rooms, storage closets, an ‘entertainment’ room complete with a box TV, a couch and set of overly stuffed arms chairs, and some books and puzzles to keep broken minds busy. The next three floors up were Patient Quarters. Halls line with doors, the third story being for the lesser sickened people, the people who were more trustable and compliant, these people were kept two to a room. The patient files got worse as the elevator goes up. The fourth was for less stable people, who couldn’t be trusted with room mates and were held alone in their room. The fifth was solitary. Dangerous and psychotic patients were kept up there, locked alone in rooms barely able to be labeled as more than a cell. Each floor had a guard station (a desk with an uninterested looking male seated) beside the elevator doors and each floor had a color code of t-shirt they were given. Third floors wore white, fourth wore grey and fifth wore black, all patients usually given black or grey sweat pants to wear. Third floor patients were allowed to wander freely from their floor to the second after Wake Up at 7AM, monitored of course by staff and cameras.
There were hushed rumors amongst the patients, whispered to one another in the dark, about basement levels of the Institute, where patients are escorted to and never return from.
On this early Wednesday morning, the white van used to pick up patients from the city was being let in through the gate with a haul, gravel crunching under the heavy tires. Once parked, two men in pale grey uniforms hopped out, heading to the side with the sliding door that faced the steps up to the Institute. They were like robots in their movements and their lack of emotions as they pulled a leggy, blonde woman from the dark interior. She squinted against the hardly there light from the overcast sky, the chill in the air nipping her skin. As soon as she was out and on her feet, they tried to lead her forward towards the doors, but her shapely legs looked to wobble and give from under her, causing her to crumple.
After some irritated debating, one of the men picked her up and hung her over one of his broad shoulders, like a rag doll. She seemed limp and looked very obviously out of it – drugged, whether from her own recreational will or with Institute-grade sedatives. She had a pair of almond shaped eyes, half lidded currently, dark green irises with enlarged pupils rolling around behind the thick eyelashes, the whites faintly blood shot. The large size of her eyeballs pressed against the shadowed undereye skin, exaggerating the ‘bag’ look. Her skin was pale, unhealthily pale, and she was skinny. She had large, pillowy lips that were badly chapped, one spot split a smidge and crusted with dried blood. Her cheek bones were strong and prominent under her eyes, made more dramatically so by her current gauntness. Bleached blonde, untoned and uncombed hair hung around her face, swaying with the movements of the staff carrying her. She wore a black tank top, a pair of what looked like PJ shorts with a blue plaid pattern, her exposed arms and legs covered in goosebumps and greenish bruises, her feet were bare, and the soles blackened by dirt.
Once she’d been hauled in, she was carried to the third floor where she was placed in an empty room on one of the two twin sized beds inside. She was left to roll lamely around on the starchy sheets, trying to sit herself up while the staff went to fetch her Institute clothing and have a nurse come check her out, then register her with a file. She moaned softly through the cloudiness in her head, trying to get her sight to focus on any one thing. It was just a colorless blur, everything looked like the same thing and the lights made it very hard for her to keep her eyes open more than a crack.
“Aayy!” She managed to groan out slurred-ly, her voice sounding hoarse and raspy, but loud enough to be heard from the hall. Holy shit, was her head throbbing. She tried to groan again, ‘Where?’ or a ,’What’s going on?’, but all that managed to escape her was a weak, unintelligible groan, “T’fffff?”
This sounds very interesting! I would love to RP with you!
I have already created a character, if that's okay.
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