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 Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*

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Madness
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PostSubject: Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*   Sun Oct 25, 2009 2:45 am



((OOC: This rp is placed in an Asylum for the criminally insance. Conan of course is one of the patients and so a doctor would be definitly be needed. However, other patients would be good too. Anyways, this rp will be mature due to themes of insanity, treatment, and violence that some may find disturbing. Hope you guys join!))



Conan lay back on the hard hospital bed with his arms behind his head. The room he inhabited was plain with nothing more than the single bed that he laid on. The walls were a sickly white color, as was everything else in the room. The complete lack of color would have made Conan go mad, had he not already crossed that threshold long before.

All that adorned his handsome features was a smirk, one that he had worn for hours. He could have been locked up for hours, or days for all he knew. His sense of time was completely warped in this mad house.

When the door opened though, he didn’t waste time. The orderlies thought they had come through quickly, that they would catch him off guard but Conan was mush faster. The smirk disappeared from his features and instead an animalistic grin spread across his face. He launched himself at one of the orderlies and knocked him to the ground. Lucky for the man beneath him, though not so lucky for Conan, the other orderly was able to pull his off and the two men forced him into a straight jacket.

“Its time for your therapy you psycho.” One of the men grunted once Conan was trussed up and immobile.

He laughed maniacally, and tried to bite their hands when they tried to strap him into a the upright stretcher that would take him to his appointment. That was the last straw for one of the men. He punched Conan in the face, though all Conan did was laugh. Before he could recover to keep fighting, they placed a gag over his mouth so that he could no longer fight until he met with his doctor, who would need to be able to hear his voice.

“Not that you’ll ever be normal.” The other man muttered as they began to wheel Conan to his doctor’s therapy room.

The doctor’s room was relatively cozy considering the nature of the hospital and the room that Conan had just come from. There was an armchair that his doctor was sitting in, with their clipboard and notes already in their lap. There was another seat too for thei patients to sit in, though Conan had never sat in it. He was deemed far too dangerous. Outside his cell, he was always in a straight jacket. There were no exceptions. The orderly ripped off the gag and left the room quickly, ignoring how the doctor seemed to wince at his rough treatment of Conan.

With the gag removed Conan merely smiled that animalistic grin again and said lightly, “What’s up Doc?”

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PostSubject: Re: Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*   Thu Mar 25, 2010 4:31 am



Christopher sat in the arm chair in his office, posture up right and perfect as ever. He stared fixedly at the clipboard in front of him, examining the prescriptions and dosages of various patients as he went through his regular routine. With the cold efficiency of a machine, he compared, analyzed, and computed the necessary data, completing piles of paperwork in a ceaseless flow that was just another part of his job. Seemingly never needing a break, he only paused momentarily to examine the small woodwork clock sitting on the corner of his desk before returning to his work.

Hours passed, time that seemed to Christopher no more than a few minutes. Then, at the same time as every other time, he stopped writing, placed the cap back on his pen, set it on his clip board, and waited. He waited, not moving a muscle, his eyes staring fixedly at the door, something akin to anticipation gleaming somewhere from far within. He waited, ready as always for whatever was going to come through that door. And all the time he waited, only one thought occupied his mind:

Conan will be here soon.

Soon was the only word to describe it, for Conan rarely, if ever showed up to his appointment on time. It had never been a question of whether or not he was going to fight back; Conan always fought back. It was more so a question of how long it would take the orderlies to get him pinned down. Some days, it was within a few minutes, while on other occasions, it had taken the orderlies several hours to even find him. Even on those days, Christopher simply sat at his desk, staring at the door, and waiting for Conan to be brought in. It never bothered him to wait, partially because he didn’t need entertainment, and partially because he enjoyed the idea of the orderlies having a tough time. He didn’t think too highly of them and if they went home at the end of the day with a few extra bandages, it didn’t bother Christopher in the slightest.

Thus, Christopher was slightly disappointed when only a few minutes later the door swung open and Conan was wheeled in and placed in his usual spot. The orderly roughly removed his gag, and Christopher slightly winced at the motion, wishing in his head that he could place the unpleasant orderly in Conan’s place. The orderly then left, closing the door as he went and leaving Christopher and Conan completely alone. The silence that followed was brief, as Conan quickly popped in with a usual “casual” remark.

Christopher paused briefly after the question, taking a quick moment to analyze Conan’s current state. He was smiling savagely, and his eyes shown with an animalistic piercing quality. Despite being bound, he was extremely formidable, both physically and mentally. Christopher knew that the man before him was dangerous, seen as a killer and a monster, and someone that any other person on the planet would deem insane and inhuman; a damned creature with no soul to salvage. But Christopher, being who he was, knew differently, and thus was able to do the one thing that he knew no other doctor would ever be able to do: he looked Conan square in the face, and answered his question.

“Well, I have an elderly man with a pill problem, a woman who thinks she’s a toaster, a young lady that won’t eat anything, and a teenager in ICU because he kept biting his wrists. Not to mention my favorite traumatized sociopath who causes us to spend more money on treating our orderlies than on treating our patients.”

Christopher smiled, something that no one except a very small number of his patients had ever or would ever see. It was extremely brief, so brief that it was hard to even call it a smile; it was more a quick spasm of his cheek muscles. He then picked up his clipboard and set it to the side, leaning back in his chair as he did.

“Sorry about the way they handled you.” He said, sincerity and something akin to irritation in his voice. “The bastards have no idea what a real person is supposed to act like. I hope you at least gave them something to remember you by for such treatment. I didn’t see any blood, but I could have easily missed something I suppose.”

Christopher paused. He rarely missed anything, but he could always be hopeful.
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PostSubject: Re: Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*   Thu Mar 25, 2010 2:59 pm






Conan laughed. He couldn’t help but laugh whenever the doc opened his mouth. A lady that thought she was a toaster? It was funny to him all right. But not the way any sane man would assume.

“You know. What’s wrong with being a toaster? I’m sure she’s very happy with being a toaster. And if the lady doesn’t eat why force her to? If the kid wants to eat his own body than that’s his prerogative. I’m sure it tastes far better than the slop they try to pass off as food. Pills are a pretty nice escape if you think about it and shouldn’t he be allowed to live as happily as he can for the few years he’s got left?”

Conan paused, his laughter dying out. His eyes growing cold and filled with hatred at the thought of the orderlies. Normally Conan looked at life as a game. A complex one, but one meant to be played and manipulated to your will. He was very good at this game. He had to be. He knew how to make the orderlies treat him with a modicum of respect. He knew how he needed to act and what he needed to do. But that, was not any fun.

“This orderlies were particularly nicer than the normal ones.” He said, his voice dead pan.

Suddenly he went back to laughing maniacally, that same glint in his eye.

“But we were talking about toasters were we not?”

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PostSubject: Re: Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*   Sun Mar 28, 2010 1:48 am



“Yes… toasters.”

Christopher studied Conan briefly, unconsciously bringing his hand up to rest under his chin. He mentally perused the problem of the orderlies, knowing that they abused the patients, and knowing that they went out of their way to harass Conan. He had thought more than once about complaining to the executives that owned the asylum. He knew however that firing the orderlies wouldn’t solve the problem; it was less about the individual employee and more about the societal issues of people. It was much easier to see someone different as being less than a human being; much easier to look down on someone than see the similarities that bring up the question of your own morality. Humans, when faced with a harsh truth, with something they don’t want to see, tend to choose the easier reality whether out of blindness or fear. It had been like that for a while, and Christopher didn’t think it was going to change anytime soon.

Christopher returned his attention to Conan, contemplating what he had said. Conan wasn’t like most of the inmates at the Asylum. The majority of Christopher’s patients were unbalanced and unreasonable; what most people would consider crazy. They had faced their harsh truth and, unable to face it, had either retreated into themselves or done their best to leave entirely. Conan was different though; he was extremely intelligent, and as much as Christopher could tell, he was entirely aware of what occurred around him. He seemed to understand his effect on the world around him, and his ability to manipulate people suggested an extreme knowledge of the inner workings of the human mind. He was for all intensive purposes, sane; he could function and survive in the world that society had created; it just appeared that he chose not to.

“I suppose,” Christopher started, looking Conan once again in the eye, “that being a toaster would be an interesting existence. However, one doesn’t make it very far in the world believing such things. Society is harsh, cruel, and more often than not, doesn’t allow a second chance. That’s why so many people get sent here.”

Christopher paused for a second, glancing over at the file cabinet on the other side of his office, considering the sheer number of lives held within its metal drawers.

“Maybe, if some of these people had been given a different life; dealt a better hand; they wouldn’t have ever come here. Maybe if someone had chosen to help them, they would have ended up differently. But nobody did, and these people lost any chance they may have had. Their choices were robbed from them, and they tried to escape anyway they knew how.”

Christopher leaned forward, resting his elbows on the front of his desk. Clasping his fingers together like a man in prayer, he moved his eyes from the cabinet to Conan.

“I believe that if these people understood their actions; if they were aware of what they were doing; they would have that chance. Not everyone is like you Conan, in that they don’t have any capacity to see outside of themselves. But if they could choose, if they had that ability to make their lives their own, than what they do from there would be their business. If this woman wanted to be a toaster, and it was her choice, than so be it! But as it is, she’s not making any choices, and she won’t be unless someone gives her a chance and helps her up. That’s why I’m here, to give her what society won’t, and let her choose her life.”

Christopher leaned back in his chair again, considering the difference between his appointments with Conan and his other patients. More often then not, he found himself relating to Conan, maybe because of his intelligence and “sane” behavior, and sometimes even saw these sessions as being self-therapeutic.

Looking back at his patient, he had another smile like spasm.

“Besides Conan, what good is playing a game, if nobody can figure out the rules?”
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PostSubject: Re: Madness Belying Innocence *Mature*   Sun Mar 28, 2010 2:06 am






Conan watched Christopher intently, taking in every word and computing it through his brain. Everything the doctor said made sense of course. How could it not? After all, he was the doctor and Conan was the insane one. Yet, his words only made sense in one reality. The reality that society was so intent on protecting.

What this doctor didn’t understand, what he couldn’t see, was that it wasn’t society that was harsh and cruel. Society merely operated as it always did, maintaining its illusions. Protecting itself.

“The game of life is never without rules. We all know them Doc. The society you deem so harsh and cruel makes those rules and we play them even now. After I leave here you’ll make your notes on that little clipboard, file them away under my last name, stay here until the wee hours of the morning, shuffle home once the janitors have long gone, and be here once again in the morning before the night crew has even traded off with the day.”

How Conan knew all this was beyond questioning. He was just like that, always getting information that he had no right knowing. Every psychiatrist before Christopher had run away from Conan and his issues. They couldn’t figure him out, and quite frankly he scared the shit out of them. Not so few were now inmates of various asylums across the nation themselves, having fallen very far after meeting Conan.

“All understand the rules. We just say we don’t because it makes us feel better. Its by those rules that you can claim the woman has no choice. That she must be a toaster because the world gave her no chance to be anything else? But what if, like so many others, she decided not to play by your rules? Then she would not have made the choice to be a toaster but the choice to live life by her own rules. Perhaps in her society everyone is toasters? What if, her world is the right one, and we are all mad?”

No one could deny his logic though it was dizzying. It was rare to get so much civilized talk out of Conan. Outside of this cozy little room he was nothing more than a monster. He made sure that they all feared him. Since his admittance quite a few had died because of him. Nurses and orderlies assigned to his cell were even given hazard pay because of his track record.

But, beyond all that, his logic could never be denied.

“The problem with you Doc and all the rest of these head doctors is that they believe they can ‘fix’ people. To give them a second chance. The thing is, you all failed. You can’t give them a second chance. And no matter how many people you help, it will never fix the mistake you made.”



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