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2 yrs ago
Current 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)
1 like
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?


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Most Recent Posts

Orchestratic said
Parker's picture was just changed, to let y'all know... because Maxx Danziger is a fucking cutie and since I'm attempting to change Parker's outlook and personality slightly I feel I need to change the picture. :D


Awh, the former picture was definitely s e x y ~ but, Maxx is cute. I will manage. No worries. Thank you for the update.
I am fine with whatever. :3

On a side note, I may not have a response until Monday..
Orchestratic said
Intro posts are so fucking long... But of course yours is fine. And also, school work is for people who don't role-play. >:D


Lolol, I've always wanted to be part of some stereotype. You know, that conformist in me.

-------------

Also, Briza your post is good, in fact I can't wait for character interactions.


Yes! :) ~
RawrEspada4 said
Of course your opinion counts you are just as much a part of the as any of us. ^_^


Aweshum. :3
Okay, my first post. Phew. Lemme know if it is okay. I wrote it in between classes (as opposed to working on school work, lol). I am excited, though.
Pulling her hair into a loose ponytail, Lucy looked in the mirror. She had not gotten a good nights rest, having fallen asleep at three in the morning due to late night bar tending at Frankenstein's. She was thankful the Sunrise Plaza Motel was so close to Frankenstein's. It was only a mere ten minute walk -- five if she ran. But still, getting off at two-thirty (the bar may close at two, but the cleaning doesn't end. . ) in the morning and starting her day at seven due to insomnia, was showing like a raccoon's mask around her eyes. She hesitated, thinking of the guys, should she apply some sort of eyeliner or make up base to smooth over her insomniac look?

She sighed, why was being a female so difficult? She picked up her ivory make up powder and did a small one-over her entire face. She looked a tad bit paler, but to be honest, walking to the Stabulum Quarters would take some time. She didn't have time for all the vanity. She glared at her reflection in the mirror, spitting out her tongue. She had seen better days. "F'ckin' lighting," she muttered to herself, turning off the light in the bathroom as she exited.

She grabbed her keys and her guitar case, which was covered artfully in random stickers she had collected through the years. She walked to the front door and shoved a pair of dark, dirty, worn Converse shoes onto her feet. Lucy opened the door and shut it behind her. Turning around, she shoved the key into the lock and twisted it, feeling a click vibrate through the doorknob. She drew the key out of the lock and turned the handle, making sure the door was truly locked. With her guitar case in her hand she began walking South, towards the Stabulum Quarters. It was about a thirty minute walk, and there was no way she was going to jog or run with her guitar.

A small frown was set on her face. She knew the code. A solo walking female, and suddenly all car horns are blaring -- at least, an exaggeration in Lucy's mind. She hated being a female, sometime, and today, was one of them. How many horny drunkards did she manage last night? Maybe that is why she was having insomnia. She usually didn't mind the attention, but every once in a while. . The horrors of her actual waking-life just washed up on shore of her conscience and slowly started driving nails into her sanity.

It was days like these she wished she could just plug into the system of illegal, recreational drugs and watch herself slip farther away from humanity, but. . She stopped walking, carefully put her guitar case down, and dug out a cigarette of from her back pocket. She lit it, taking a long inhale. Her favorite part of cigarette smoking was the Menthol. It numbed her nostrils and the back of her throat to just the right degree. Or at least, to a manageable degree. Lucy picked up her guitar case; the cigarette hung from her lips as she continued walking.

As she smoked her cigarette, her mind calmed and chilled. At least, band practice was today. She had been feeling isolated since she had not had contact with the guys for several days. Band practice was some sort of relief for her. All her solo guitar playing in her motel room would be put to actual use. . And music: music was her religion, her medicine, and her remedy for life. Music was why she liked the the guys -- they felt the same way. It was something that bonded the band together, gave them a familiar chemistry. Her mind wandered from chemistry, to her lack of education, spiraling her mind back into a slight depression, as she thought of her not-so-great job, but a long inhale in her cigarette brought her mind out of the darkness, if only for another temporary minute or two.

She f'ckin' hoped they made it big one day. Frankenstein's was killing her. She felt as if she was turning into a monster over the course of time that she had been working at the bar and grill. She felt that sparkle in her eye turning more into a red dagger that kept her eyes bloodshot. She forgot to put eye drops in her eyes. Suddenly, she was hoping someone would honk at her -- make her feel pretty.

She truly wished she could be one of the guys, just anything to keep from remembering how many shitty decisions she had made. Here's to The Harbingers, she thought to herself, feeling a small smirk draw itself over her lips and around the dangling cigarette.
If my opinion counts, I don't mind, either. Heh. ~
Speaking of Laura I hope you don't mind but I went ahead and made Matt and James for a little bit,. .


All is fine. I like the idea.
Ahem~ Posting; Number 1, woot!!

Name: Lucy Estuert
Age: 21-22
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Instruments: Guitar, piano
History: Lucy was born into a politically, conservative and highly religious and loving family in York, Pennsylvania. She was brought up singing in the Church Choir since the age of contemplation. For her it was six and a half years. Her parents chose to homeschool her, and some may say her extra educational facilities lead to her early, remarkable contemplation state, but it may also have been her downfall, not having it nourished quite so properly.

At age five she, one year before reaching her age of contemplation, she was encouraged into the fine arts of dance, ballet. She flourished quite a bit, learning the proper stage etiquette a of a performing, eloquent, dancing, and porcelain doll.

At age ten, Lucy was given her first instrument, (aside from a piano, which she picked up at a age five along with her ballet), a guitar. It was pink and had a small flower emblem on it. The first song she played was "Hey Jude" by The Beatles. She loved her guitar. . Almost more than herself and not just because it was pink and girly and everything a girl like her would have wanted in a guitar, but because it gave her a sense of independence and a way to freely express herself. Unlike ballet, which she had to act in a strict manner and code with the rest of her dancing teammates. In a way, her guitar defined her life, and stayed with her.

At fourteen years old, Lucy went from homeschooling to public school. She was thrown out of her little pond of a house full of ballet and fine music and into the giant, monster ocean of the public school system, which resided in her neighborhood, or backyard for all that matters. Her older brother, James, had also been thrown into the public school system (years before her) and he survived just fine except for one thing--he developed the habit of enjoying psychedelics. Lucy dared not tell her parents, afraid to make a rift between her brother and her, as well, as the fear of breaking her parents' hearts. It was not as if her brother's grades suffered any. If anything, he graduated with flying colors and landed himself a hefty scholarship to the honors system at the state university.

However, Lucy had a much harder time socially, educationally than her brother did. As a little fish, she was drowning in the public school and was not sure how to ask for the proper help. Her grades suffered, and she, of course, found a student tutor to mentor her. Unfortunately, the tutor decided to help Lucy in a way that was not quite legal. She offered Lucy Adderall, promising great results with her grades. Lucy wanted to be just like her tutor. In fact, she wanted to be a tutor--but not with suffering grades. She looked at the tutor as some kind of hero and took the Adderall.

With the Adderall, Lucy found herself becoming more social and her grades were even beginning to improve. Of course, with her social life fluttering, the peer pressure was getting to the naive, innocent child. She found herself smoking weed at a social outings. Besides, her brother did it, and he was just fine. She shrugged off her angel's warning and continued down this path, and suddenly, she was thrown under the bus without even knowing it. She was introduced to a white powder, finer than unicorn hair--cocaine. It was her drug. She had to have it, again. She just had to. She had no real explanation as to why, except that it was hers for the taking. Those moments, those fantastical snowy moments after snorting a line of unicorn hair--she wanted them. . always.

Of course, she could not pay for it. Cocaine did not come for free. She sold some CDs, DVDs, but nothing too noticeable. She did not want her parents to discover what she was doing (snorting). It was not as if she could get a job, either. Her parents would never allow it--wanting her to focus more on her studies than making money. In this, Lucy found her way to get cocaine. Several days before her fifteenth birthday, Lucy found herself in the same bed with her Geometry teacher. He had large ears, a large nose, a large mouth, and large hands. He had been her first customer, and the reason she could pay for much more than a couple of dime bags for her birthday celebration (when her parents were asleep).

The repercussions of the incident left her scarred but she got what she wanted. Her pimp wanted her for more business, coaxing her with phrases that left her vulnerable. "She was good money, a fresh body." She was not sure if she wanted to do it, again. It hurt. It was scary. He was over fifty and had a wrinkly forehead, wrinkly eyes, and a wrinkly mouth, and all those wrinkles had slobbered over her petite, adolescent frame. And yet, during class, he hid his wrinkles and age under a tie, a white, buttoned, Oxford shirt, and dress slacks. She felt like a monster, and her grades began to suffer as she feared continuing business and who her second client may be. She never expected her first one to be her Geometry teacher--and he was not even cutting her any slack with her school grades. It left her feeling sick. .

And the sickness was only cured by one thing. . the sweet smell of white powder that reminded her so much of Christmas morning.

At age sixteen, Lucy joined a local band with "friends" at school. They played music, did drugs. . And even slept around. Lucy was still hesitant, but found herself sleeping with the lead singer, which ultimately lead to the break up of the band. Fingers were pointed at her, of course. And rumors about the incident flew, Lucy was no longer perceived as some innocent little girl, no, her true colors were seeping through the seams and those occasional nosebleeds. Lucy wanted to run away from it all, but instead, she grudgingly graduated from high school, going through the motions -- and finally, when it was time for college, she fled her house for San Francisco, the city if opportunity. She took her guitar which trusted her. Who cared what it looked like? A little beat up around the edges, a little Courtney Love to her tattered angel wings.

In San Francisco, she worked at a small head shop, watching the customers come and go, and close by ten, hoping someone would discover her acoustic solos. She was willing to join any band looking for a new mate. But nonetheless, in a new town, it was seemingly hard and difficult for someone like her, to reach out and meet anyone. . Until she met Tim. It was in the head shop that she met Tim, a drug prince of San Francisco. Tim gave drop dead gorgeous Molly, pure MDMA, to everyone he met. And for himself, he spared the public of his heroin and meth addiction, except for the lucky girl sleeping in his bed that night. And fuck, once his eyes were set on Lucy, he had to have her, and this drug prince always got what he wanted. She was his new bitch. And after a while, he became her fix, her life support. Lucy forgot why she even came to San Francisco in the first place. She dropped her guitar and began flying around the multiverse of hallucinations, parties, sex, drugs, rock 'n roll, high on a Californian Jefferson Airplane. She couldn't remember the last time she was sober. All she knew was that Tim was her life; she was finally living the life of her dreams, she was tuck in a rabbit hole and didn't want out, no matter how unrecognizable she was to herself.

But then, suddenly, she overdosed. Tim dumped her at the hospital, and bailed, mostly for the part of not wanting a dead body on his hands. . In fact, he wanted nothing to do with her afterwards, as well. At the hospital, she was admitted into the psychiatric ward for drug addiction and other such donations of her nature a the time. It was in the hospital where she met Parker out of the blue who had been visiting his mother. They immediately hit it off and began to spend many days and nights together, which resulted in them eventually dating. Unfamiliar feelings of trust and perhaps something more soon stirred for her, and he began inspiring her to write lyrics as well as pick up the guitar, again, and start life anew.

However, the two began drifting apart, mostly because Parker saw that his drug addiction was affecting Lucy in a negative manner. He could see a deterioration in her song writing, and he could not help but feel that he should separate himself from her. So, the two went their separate ways. Lucy was slightly broken hearted, but with her guitar in hand. She knew she could conquer the world, so to speak. . .

Fast forward to present day and skinny, heroin-chic Lucy now lives at a dumpy motel Called Sunrise Plaza in Hollywood near Parker’s studio at Stabulum Quarters. She can be found at the Barcade, practicing with the band, bar tending at Frankenstein's, or spending what little money she has at a music shop Søren works at.

Personality: Lucy used to be shy and sheltered but has since grown out of that trait and has now become a bit "brazen." Some would call her arrogant or vulgar or sarcastic though she prefers the term "confident" instead. Although she appears to not care about the opinions of others she truly does deep down. Lucy prefers not to fight, as it does bring back several moments of confrontation she had with Tim (as she overlooked his abusive nature for his drugs). She is compassionate for humankind and animals, for the most serious parts. She feels guilty about killing bugs and insects, but will never admit it.
Laney let out some kind of sigh of relief, as if she was expecting Lucy to want to stay, too afraid to skip school regardless of circumstances. She brushed some auburn, blonde hair from her sunkissed, freckled face, peering at Lucy -- seeing a bit of her in Lucy. It was cute, darling, whatever. So, maybe Laney had a small soft spot for Lucy. Or something else, a crush. Laney was bi-curious, and having already been with James, Lucy's brother -- the thought trailed quickly away, to another distant location in the back of Laney's mind.

"Great, I have some fucking amazing snow," she giggle a bit, almost emotionally dulled and void of even being previously daunted by the the hot, bloody mess. Perhaps, Laney was messed up, did she even have emotional grips that linked her to another human, or had she snorted it all away? The idea didn't matter to her, she wanted to get high, maybe she was just acting silly tough in the current situation, and cocaine was her way of dealing.

It was like a knee jerk reaction to turn to cocaine. . .

She grabbed Lucy's hand, leading her out one of the back doors of the cafeteria that conveniently lead to the outside, near one of the school parking lots. "Fuck," she mumbled, trying to remember where she parked her car. The sound of a car roaring down the snowy streets could still be heard, her hand clutched Lucy's, feeling a slight tremor, but nothing more, "Fuck," she repeated, turning towards the more innocent, younger version of herself, "We're getting fucked up, I sware to God," she gave some satirical smile. Like, their addiction was some sort of solution to the movie scene mob mess.

Laney took her keys out of her backpack, after fumbling through her books, binders, and folders. "I parked near the soccer fields," she admitted, finally, remembering. "Let's go." She started jogging towards her car, slightly letting loose of Lucy's. It was cold, God, and her breaths were steaming from her mouth like white cotton clouds. Her boots smashed through the cold, salty water of the parking lot, hoping Lucy was following behind her, closely.

As she reached her car, she pressed the 'unlock button' on her car keys, hearing the click travel with the frosty wind. She quickly unjammed her door open and hopped inside. Laney shoved her keys into the ignition and felt cold air blow into her face, but as the time shortly past, the air conditioning slowly melted into a warm, condensed filter for the cool air circling around the atmosphere outside the car.
In Be Yourself 12 yrs ago Forum: Free Roleplay
I think I am throwing in the towel on this one. I am not keeping up with it very well.

I pray for a speedy recovery for you, Sue!
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