Faculty & Staff of Whispering Pines Sanatorium (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wpsfaculty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thedeadhouse2019-05-28 07:03 am
wpsfaculty) wrote in thedeadhouse2019-05-28 07:03 am
Entry tags:
Welcome to the Dead House | Game Opening
Who; EVERYONE!
What; Log
When; May 28 - June 5
What; Log
When; May 28 - June 5
one flew over the cuckoo's nest.
Left to Your Own Devices
There's no tugging sensation, so sense of falling or of being uninterruptedly drawn from your own world, or wherever you've found yourself, to yet another. Your sense of smell returns first, as the antiseptic scent of hospital fills your nostrils and a bright light somewhere above you begins to pierce the gloom as a reassuring male voice repeats your name.
A medicinal haze fills your mind, clouding your thoughts as you blink your eyes open. The man, blond with a gentle smile and kind eyes behind thick glasses, across the simple wooden desk from you seems familiar, but you're sure you've never seen the man before...right? He tells you that it's alright, that you had another episode and required sedation, that the drugs are wearing off now and any residual haze you're experiencing should clear as the day progresses.
After a discussion, limbs still refusing to cooperate, you're taken through winding corridors and up a rickety elevator to a floor with rows of numbers doors on either side. One is opened and inside you're deposited unceremoniously on the small cot within. An undetermined amount of time passes as sounds occur around you, the shuffling of feet, muffled voices, a bird at the small barred window letting in overcast daylight. Are the sounds figments of your hazy imagination or is that someone at your open door trying to get your attention? If only your limbs would cooperate...
and at the mercy of a strange device...
The world begins to take in a sharper focus as a vibrating sensation at your wrist catches your attention. There, a plain hospital bracelet, stating only your full name and a room number, is found, shaking gently against your skin. Brushing at it, what first seemed to be only a clear window holding a piece of type-printed paper with your information on it goes to static for a moment, like a small view screen, then to black, and the following words flash quickly across the screen:
your memories are real
there are others
don't believe their lies
Any attempt to respond to the strange message is met with silence. What others? Do they mean the other people on your floor? The other floors? Do they mean their lies or the ones who put you here, apparently for your own good?
Where exactly is here?
The room in which you find yourself is sparsely furnished, but with a bit of peculiarity for the curious and adventurous. The facility itself seems to run on a firm schedule that affords for a lot of free time to use the facilities, be it the sparse showers, the rec rooms on every floor that contact various but rudimentary forms of entertainment, or the yard with its exercise areas, spaces for outdoor sports, and the workshop for the more industrious patients. There's even a list of tasks that need performing, with a reward system in place.
OOC Comment: If you'd like to keep any threads that occurred outside of the event threads from the TDM as game canon, you are free to continue them here!
There's no tugging sensation, so sense of falling or of being uninterruptedly drawn from your own world, or wherever you've found yourself, to yet another. Your sense of smell returns first, as the antiseptic scent of hospital fills your nostrils and a bright light somewhere above you begins to pierce the gloom as a reassuring male voice repeats your name.
A medicinal haze fills your mind, clouding your thoughts as you blink your eyes open. The man, blond with a gentle smile and kind eyes behind thick glasses, across the simple wooden desk from you seems familiar, but you're sure you've never seen the man before...right? He tells you that it's alright, that you had another episode and required sedation, that the drugs are wearing off now and any residual haze you're experiencing should clear as the day progresses.
After a discussion, limbs still refusing to cooperate, you're taken through winding corridors and up a rickety elevator to a floor with rows of numbers doors on either side. One is opened and inside you're deposited unceremoniously on the small cot within. An undetermined amount of time passes as sounds occur around you, the shuffling of feet, muffled voices, a bird at the small barred window letting in overcast daylight. Are the sounds figments of your hazy imagination or is that someone at your open door trying to get your attention? If only your limbs would cooperate...
and at the mercy of a strange device...
The world begins to take in a sharper focus as a vibrating sensation at your wrist catches your attention. There, a plain hospital bracelet, stating only your full name and a room number, is found, shaking gently against your skin. Brushing at it, what first seemed to be only a clear window holding a piece of type-printed paper with your information on it goes to static for a moment, like a small view screen, then to black, and the following words flash quickly across the screen:
there are others
don't believe their lies
Any attempt to respond to the strange message is met with silence. What others? Do they mean the other people on your floor? The other floors? Do they mean their lies or the ones who put you here, apparently for your own good?
Where exactly is here?
The room in which you find yourself is sparsely furnished, but with a bit of peculiarity for the curious and adventurous. The facility itself seems to run on a firm schedule that affords for a lot of free time to use the facilities, be it the sparse showers, the rec rooms on every floor that contact various but rudimentary forms of entertainment, or the yard with its exercise areas, spaces for outdoor sports, and the workshop for the more industrious patients. There's even a list of tasks that need performing, with a reward system in place.
OOC Comment: If you'd like to keep any threads that occurred outside of the event threads from the TDM as game canon, you are free to continue them here!
a round table with the good doctor.
Saturday opens like any other day has in Whispering Pines. You can see the sun is shining out in the yard but can’t hear the birds on account of how thick the window glass is. Taped below the schedule in the rec room and the cafeteria, though, is a notice that all patients are to report to the 2nd floor, wing 1 leisure room directly following dinner. When you all arrive, the sofas and chairs have been moved to surround the small television that serves as your only form of video entertainment.
Once everyone has gathered, one of the nurses clears her throat to get everyone’s attention and the television is activated. The video cuts on to show an office that is at once familiar and completely alien. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve been there before. At the desk is a man with blond hair, a noble bearing, and thick-framed glasses. He has a warm smile that doesn’t seem to touch his deep blue eyes.
“Good evening, everyone.” His voice is accented, something akin to welsh perhaps. “I want to thank you all for joining us. I wish I could meet with you all individually, but time constraints simply don’t afford for it. For those of you who have yet to have the pleasure, I am Doctor Davidson Thorpe, and I serve as the Director here at Whispering Pines. Summarily, that makes you all my patients. Now, I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, but we only have an hour. Now, not all of you at once, but please, feel free to ask what you will and I’ll do my best to answer. I can hear you, I promise.” If you’d like to thread a question and answer with the good doctor, please post it here.
Once everyone has gathered, one of the nurses clears her throat to get everyone’s attention and the television is activated. The video cuts on to show an office that is at once familiar and completely alien. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve been there before. At the desk is a man with blond hair, a noble bearing, and thick-framed glasses. He has a warm smile that doesn’t seem to touch his deep blue eyes.
“Good evening, everyone.” His voice is accented, something akin to welsh perhaps. “I want to thank you all for joining us. I wish I could meet with you all individually, but time constraints simply don’t afford for it. For those of you who have yet to have the pleasure, I am Doctor Davidson Thorpe, and I serve as the Director here at Whispering Pines. Summarily, that makes you all my patients. Now, I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, but we only have an hour. Now, not all of you at once, but please, feel free to ask what you will and I’ll do my best to answer. I can hear you, I promise.” If you’d like to thread a question and answer with the good doctor, please post it here.
navigation: premise ❈ rules/faq ❈ reserves ❈ patients ❈ applications ❈ setting ❈ ic comm ❈ ooc comm ❈ meme comm ❈ directory
no subject
"There was no concent on your behalf. This is an involuntary hospitalization. You believe yourself to be Kelson Haldane, correct?" He looked down at this desk briefly, producing a plain, manilla folder. "A king, if I remember correctly."
no subject
"I don't suppose you're going to let me see that?" He pointed to the folder, trying to decide if he was going to answer the man's questions or ask more of his own.
"Alright. If I'm not Kelson Haldane, who am I? Who would you like me to be? Or am I Kelson Haldane, who is not a king?"
no subject
"That's what we're all here to figure out. For the time being, 'Kelson Haldane' is the best we have to go on."
no subject
Or escape. Which was harder than it should have been considering the staff seemed to be rather immune to his abilities.
"So, I am to be incarcerated here until you deem me.....fit?" Or was that just a clever excuse? Hold a king hostage, manipulate events in your favor. It wasn't the first time it had been done. Kelson had done it himself.
no subject
He raised a hand to indicate the rest of them.
"You all are."
no subject
Kelson was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt. There was every possibility he was ill and his memories were false. Or. He wasn't. Personally, Kelson was disinclined to trust the man and his smile.
no subject
"I know it's troubling, but I only ask that you all remain patient."
no subject
"I am fast running out of patience, and with very little answers to show for it." Kelson tried to exert some control, to use his abilities to force the truth out of the man. Normally, he wouldn't dare, limiting to truth reading but, these were extenuating circumstances, right?
"Now. You are going to tell me the truth." His voice was steady, controlled, authoritative. It probably would have been better if he wasn't wearing the sanatorium uniform. Now....he'd try and start with something easy and establish a baseline. " Who are you? What's your name?"
no subject
"You're using your 'abilities' aren't you, Kelson?" There was a subtle emphasis on the word, as though it was a term used by others he didn't agree with. "You know who I am, and my name."
no subject
"Yes, I am," Kelson did his best to ignore the bait, trying to remember who and what he was despite what this man seemed to think. Even if it was not true. It was true enough, for now.
"You seem to be immune to it." Kelson tried again, reaching for a little more power. It didn't work on everyone, some could resist, if their minds were strong enough. Perhaps that was the case here? "Why am I here? You will tell me the truth."
no subject
"I've already told you, Kelson."
no subject
"Why are you doing this?"
no subject
no subject
Kelson stopped himself, reminding himself that he was a king and he needed to act with restraint, and that telling the dear doctor this was an act of war was probably not the best course of action at the moment.
"I don't suppose I have any choice in the matter. Is there a priest available or am I supposed to go without?" Although honestly at the moment if this doctor told him he was also a priest Kelson would rather confess to a rock than tell him anything.
no subject
no subject
"I suppose this round goes to you then." At least he knew sometimes you had to give up a battle in order to win the war later.