Briza Member
STATUS: It adds a welcoming touch to the bedroom (for you and your roommate) whenever you enter or leave from/to the common area. 2 yrs ago
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2 yrs ago
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It adds a welcoming touch to the bedroom (for you and your roommate) whenever you enter or leave from/to the common area.
2 yrs ago
What I like to do is start off w/ flattening one of the brown paper bags & make a doormat for the psyche ward bedroom. I color & tape it to the ground by the room exit/entrance.
2 yrs ago
Items Needed: Crayons, Blank Paper, Brown Paper Bag, and Tape (Special Note: Ask the Charge Nurse politely for x-number of pre-torn tape pieces)
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2 yrs ago
Check Out Briza's New Pinterest Board! Decorating Your Psyche Ward Room 101
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Bio
gin a body catch a body
comin thro' the rye,
gin a body catch a body,
need a body cry?
さようなら
comin thro' the rye,
gin a body catch a body,
need a body cry?
さようなら
Most Recent Posts
Do colour me interested, please ~
PoisonLilies said
PMing her or asking on OOC would have been better. Anyways I think I am just going to call this as closed. With the way the IC looks plus two people dropped out.
Dx;
Jane quivered in Shayre's arms. For several seconds, she imagined her father hugging her, not that he was much of a touchy-feely man, but this scenario, it was still hard for Jane to comprehend what was happening, every several moments that passed, she would think that maybe she had been shot in the leg as opposed to attacked by a wild animal.
She looked up at Shayre, feeling the secure warmth of his chest and arms enveloping her frail body.
"We're going to find a place to stay for the night and--" Jane coward her face away from him as he said this. Who was he? Why was he looking for a place for them to stay for the night? Did he want to sleep with her? He looked so young compared to her. Jane considered herself someone who was aging well for her age. She had been mistaken for a high schooler on several different occasions, but she could tell by some of his still baby-features that he was too young for her, to be holding and embracing her so well.
Her mind suddenly jolted to the part where she had been trapped in this place (a hallucination of her mind, she was still thinking) for three whole days. She immediately buried her head in his chest. The warmth of another person to secure her. She was not even sure the last time she was held by someone like this. Her Church friends still thought of the opposite gender as having cooties...
Tears began to flow from her eyes, dampening her face, leaving streaks through the mud smeared on her face. The pain in her leg started bothering her once more, as her mind drifted back into the current moment, "I don't want to die here," Jane choked back sobs, letting the realization that she may have somehow trapped herself in his realm. It was all her fault. Why did she have to trip on acid that night. . why not mushrooms or marijuana or. . why not just be drug free? You're such an idiot, Jane, she thought to herself. This was a normal thought pattern for her. She knew she was not the brightest bulb or the smartest cookie. Sometimes she thought of herself as the village idiot.
"Please, make it stop," her cry increased, her hands came to her face, gripping at her skin and burying herself into the man's torso, uncaring if he was only tricking her momentarily before trying to harm or kill her.
She looked up at Shayre, feeling the secure warmth of his chest and arms enveloping her frail body.
"We're going to find a place to stay for the night and--" Jane coward her face away from him as he said this. Who was he? Why was he looking for a place for them to stay for the night? Did he want to sleep with her? He looked so young compared to her. Jane considered herself someone who was aging well for her age. She had been mistaken for a high schooler on several different occasions, but she could tell by some of his still baby-features that he was too young for her, to be holding and embracing her so well.
Her mind suddenly jolted to the part where she had been trapped in this place (a hallucination of her mind, she was still thinking) for three whole days. She immediately buried her head in his chest. The warmth of another person to secure her. She was not even sure the last time she was held by someone like this. Her Church friends still thought of the opposite gender as having cooties...
Tears began to flow from her eyes, dampening her face, leaving streaks through the mud smeared on her face. The pain in her leg started bothering her once more, as her mind drifted back into the current moment, "I don't want to die here," Jane choked back sobs, letting the realization that she may have somehow trapped herself in his realm. It was all her fault. Why did she have to trip on acid that night. . why not mushrooms or marijuana or. . why not just be drug free? You're such an idiot, Jane, she thought to herself. This was a normal thought pattern for her. She knew she was not the brightest bulb or the smartest cookie. Sometimes she thought of herself as the village idiot.
"Please, make it stop," her cry increased, her hands came to her face, gripping at her skin and burying herself into the man's torso, uncaring if he was only tricking her momentarily before trying to harm or kill her.
The situation was starting to sound more hopeful. Maybe there was a way to live like this without it being painful and humiliating. Maybe, he would actually be able to see his sister, again. He could hug her without the voice intruding.
"Is there some kind of hierarchical order in the demons?" James asked hesitantly, realizing Katherin was definitely the leader of the pack. Knowledge is power. Katherin has the most knowledge; therefore, she has the most power. Or so he supposed.
"Is there some kind of hierarchical order in the demons?" James asked hesitantly, realizing Katherin was definitely the leader of the pack. Knowledge is power. Katherin has the most knowledge; therefore, she has the most power. Or so he supposed.
This sounds interesting ~ Count me in
[I definitely started calling Seraphim James. Edited, I apologize to anyone who noticed.]
Sera was inside the bar, kept away from the crowd by a table only occupied by himself. He was drinking a club soda. He had not yet developed a strong taste or liking for alcohol. His mother was not one who approved of him drinking alcohol, especially in his condition. He stared at the carbonated bubbles bursting as they rose to the top of the drink.
He made a small smile. Ever since he was a little boy he loved watching the bubbles pop. He might as well looked like he were drinking alcohol, the way he gazed at his drink, with some sort of anticipation.
Sera took a sip from the straw in his drink. He did not trust the cleanliness of the glass. His mother did not either. In fact, she had been the one to make him so paranoid. The last thing he needed was to get sick from a drink at the bar. At times, he had gotten sick and switched through sweat of fever into his wolf form, unable to become human until his health inclined.
Sera was wearing a button down shirt with a sweater over it. His clothes seemed rugged, though clean--just overly worn. His mother was a bit of a Muscovite and reigned over him, even at age 21. However, wearing clothes that looked repetitively starch seemed to wear on Sera's emotions. He enjoyed the comfy, almost-grunge-like appearance. He also kept his brunette hair long, to seem a tad bit more rebellious.
It was not that he wanted to be more rebellious, or a werewolf for that matter, but life was how life is. There really was not much he could do. His mother was convinced otherwise, but he knew better. Or, maybe he had just lost hope in ever being able to live what his mother referred to as "a normal life." The more he attended these "bar outings," the more he started to feel comfortable with what life had given him.
Prior to his adulthood, his mother seemed to have sheltered him and tried to keep him from the clan. His father interceded much, but now, he was actually starting to feel a bond--though, he was still rather shy, hence, why he sat away from the bar, alone...
But maybe today, he would try to be a bit friendlier. He was not sure what that was to entail. He sipped at his club soda, again, after glancing at the bar, noticing Ashlyn's arrival. She looked pretty. He felt embarrassed for himself. What a stupid thing to think. Although, he always thought of his mother as beautiful, but that may have just been the way he was reared.
He continued to look at the carbonation of the drink from which he was sipping. Maybe, today was not a good day to interact too heavily. At least, he made some sort of appearance.
He made a small smile. Ever since he was a little boy he loved watching the bubbles pop. He might as well looked like he were drinking alcohol, the way he gazed at his drink, with some sort of anticipation.
Sera took a sip from the straw in his drink. He did not trust the cleanliness of the glass. His mother did not either. In fact, she had been the one to make him so paranoid. The last thing he needed was to get sick from a drink at the bar. At times, he had gotten sick and switched through sweat of fever into his wolf form, unable to become human until his health inclined.
Sera was wearing a button down shirt with a sweater over it. His clothes seemed rugged, though clean--just overly worn. His mother was a bit of a Muscovite and reigned over him, even at age 21. However, wearing clothes that looked repetitively starch seemed to wear on Sera's emotions. He enjoyed the comfy, almost-grunge-like appearance. He also kept his brunette hair long, to seem a tad bit more rebellious.
It was not that he wanted to be more rebellious, or a werewolf for that matter, but life was how life is. There really was not much he could do. His mother was convinced otherwise, but he knew better. Or, maybe he had just lost hope in ever being able to live what his mother referred to as "a normal life." The more he attended these "bar outings," the more he started to feel comfortable with what life had given him.
Prior to his adulthood, his mother seemed to have sheltered him and tried to keep him from the clan. His father interceded much, but now, he was actually starting to feel a bond--though, he was still rather shy, hence, why he sat away from the bar, alone...
But maybe today, he would try to be a bit friendlier. He was not sure what that was to entail. He sipped at his club soda, again, after glancing at the bar, noticing Ashlyn's arrival. She looked pretty. He felt embarrassed for himself. What a stupid thing to think. Although, he always thought of his mother as beautiful, but that may have just been the way he was reared.
He continued to look at the carbonation of the drink from which he was sipping. Maybe, today was not a good day to interact too heavily. At least, he made some sort of appearance.
I will post later today ~
Hearing a voice, Jane coward. The last time she thought she had heard a voice it turned into a terrible and monstrous bear. She could feel her hands shaking, wanting to grab hold of her throbbing leg--but scared to make pain worse. She continued breathing heavily. She could not control her breath in-take, she was tired and every breath she took felt like a hollow burst of air that did nothing for her reddened, exhausted face.
"We won't harm you... unless you are some murderous animal out to kill us."
Jane felt small tears come from her eyes, alas. It was a person. This was no animal. "I'm hurt," she said, in a trembling voice. She tried to sound strong. She took several steps in the direction of the voice, her knee bent, unable to contain the weight of her walking any further. Her muscles were tired, and she wanted to sit down but was afraid she would never get up, again.
The voice may also be a trick. Maybe she was hallucinating--not from drugs, but from a runner's high. Maybe there was no one there, "Is someone there?" She asked, as if the voice may have disappeared in those few seconds she had contemplated the pain in her leg and muscles.
"We won't harm you... unless you are some murderous animal out to kill us."
Jane felt small tears come from her eyes, alas. It was a person. This was no animal. "I'm hurt," she said, in a trembling voice. She tried to sound strong. She took several steps in the direction of the voice, her knee bent, unable to contain the weight of her walking any further. Her muscles were tired, and she wanted to sit down but was afraid she would never get up, again.
The voice may also be a trick. Maybe she was hallucinating--not from drugs, but from a runner's high. Maybe there was no one there, "Is someone there?" She asked, as if the voice may have disappeared in those few seconds she had contemplated the pain in her leg and muscles.
Oh, this role play plot sounds fun! Please, do count me in! ~
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