Rosenhan is still undergoing a few renovations, but it's now open as a sandbox/musebox comm! Feel free to play, poke, post, chatter, etc. The world is yours!

Please check out the Rules page. Right now membership is moderated- basically just join the comm with your character journal and I'll approve it- BUT if people want me to open it up to open ( Read more... )

Hey...

Who's still listening to this thing?

[A pause. She taps on the speaker a bit.]

It's so silent now.

Who's even still here?

So how is everyone doing? Feeling? I know some people got banged up and stuff. How are we all coming along?

Is everyone sulking? This is usually about the time one of you pipes up to tell us how illegitimate we are, or that we're some kind of house of horrors. Have you all finally realized the truth?

Come on, get up, get active!. Don't make me pile the lot of you into the gym for exercise.

Mr. Kiric. It seems that Asano hasn't returned to the facility yet.

The other patients are within bounds.

No. No, no, no, no. It's bullshit. This is bullshit.

I'm not--no. You're not fucking doing this. I'm not putting up with it anymore. This isn't a delusion, this isn't some--some hallucination or whatever the fuck you're all saying, I'm sick of hearing it, I'm not listening to you anymoreYou hear me, you old snake? If you did this--I know you did ( Read more... )

[She is sitting in a corner of her room, curled up in a fetal position. She's clearly been crying and her voice is hoarse as she speaks.]

I... I don't want to be here anymore. I want to wish this reality away and make a better one. Please, please let me just die so a new world can be made.

[Calm and nearly monotone.I hate this place. I hate the floors. I hate every tile in the floors. I hate the windows and every pane of glass in the windows. I hate the ceilings and the roofs. I hate the tables in the cafeteria and the chairs too and everything about it that's keeping me that much further away from being out of here ( Read more... )

[in a low, rough-sounding voice, the question not really directed at anyone in particular:]

So what excuse will you have for this? Poison in the water? Mass hallucination? Viral pandemic?

... I know no one is all right, but-- has everyone's wounds been treated, at least? These stitches itch.

[Shiki's voice is rough and exhausted; it's obvious that she's been crying, although she's pretty much cried out at this point. Still, she's not well; she sounds trembly and somewhat fragile when she speaks.]

I want a phone. I want my phone call. I want my mom.