The only people who are allowed to roleplay in this thread are
D0LL & ~{MagikRiter}~

No one else is allowed to post. Thank you.

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Thomas Ashford sat, his eyes shut, with his head leaning against the window of the carriage. His long arms and legs were both crossed in attempt to achieve comfort in the cramp, comfortless amount of space he was allowed in the carriage. His face was handsome yet unshaven and his deep brown hair was unkempt due to travel. A bit a drool peaked at the corner of his mouth and he snored, loudly.

“Sir… Dr. Ashford,” piped a nervous, bird-like man who sat across from him. “Excuse me, Dr. Ashford.”

“Huh? What?” Thomas exclaimed, waking to a start. He glanced around him and frowned. He had not realized he had fallen asleep. He wiped the bit of drool from the corner of his mouth and straightened himself up. He grimaced, remembering the dream he had just had. It had been severe and unpleasing; a dream about his father. It left a bad taste in his mouth, or perhaps that was the drool.

“Yes, well, we seem to be arriving,” said the bird man, also the head doctor’s assistant.

“What? Right now?” Thomas asked, pressing his face to the window. He frowned. All he was able to see was a meadow surrounded on all sides by a dense forest.

“Doctor? It’s this way,” the assistant stated uneasily and pointed to the window at the other side.

“Oh.” Thomas scooted across the carriage bench and peaked out the window. He stared at his new home and workplace: The Evadale Asylum. The first thing Thomas noted, and was surprised by, was by how large it was. Apparently, the building had once been the estate of an incredibly wealthy man. In its time it must have been an incredibly fashionable manor and Thomas found that it had a beautiful yet eerie quality to it. He wondered if the manor had seen much excitement when it was privately owned. He wondered if the owner used to throw all sorts of extravagant parties and tasteful brunches. For some reason the idea made him shiver as he considered what the house was now.

He then wondered if this was a mistake. What if his father had been right? From his father's point of view, it was bad enough that Thomas had used the family money to study psychology at Oxford, but Thomas had committed social suicide by deciding to work at an asylum. His father had yet to disown him, but unfortunately they were still not on speaking terms. He did not quite understand his father, Lord Ashford. His father had been the one who had wanted him to go to college in the first place, but then got angry when Thomas actually wanted to do something with the degree he eventually got after working so painstakingly hard. He supposed Lord Ashford had simply wanted him to get a college degree for looks and for Thomas to coast through life like most other young heirs. Thomas found that idea incredibly boring. He was not the type of man to simply sit on his behind and do nothing.

Finally, the carriage halted and Thomas was forced to push away his reflections for another time. “We’re here,” the assistant stated so obviously that Thomas had to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

Thomas practically leaped from the carriage and stretched to his heart’s content. He had been trapped in the ridiculously cramped carriage, which had been traveling at a snail-crawl, for who knows how many hours and his ligaments were as stiff as a board. The assistant stared at him, shocked, but said nothing. Thomas could practically envision the assistant’s expectations of how he thought a nobleman acted fly right out the man’s own head. Oh, perhaps I should refrain from showing off my normal, crass attitude now that I’m here, he mused and chuckled. The assistant peered at him quizzically. It made Thomas realized that the assistant was most likely the type of man who judged people mentally, but acted entirely sweet and subservient when speaking with them.

“So what’s first on the agenda, er…” Thomas began. He cursed mentally. He had forgotten the assistant’s name. He was certain that the man had told him what it was when they first met before the journey, but Thomas had forgotten it instantly after he heard it, like he usually did with most names. He raked his brain, but it was to no prevail. He let the sentence slide off, unfinished.

“Well, first I was hoping to bring you to see the head doctor,” the bird-like assistant said, unaware of Thomas’s internal dilemma, “But…” He trailed off and stared at Thomas, scrutinizing. Good. He didn’t notice, Thomas thought relieved, then noticed the assistant’s stare.

“What?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Huh? Oh, er, nothing, nothing,” the bird-man said quickly.

“If you have something to say feel free to say it,” Thomas said, nonchalantly, “I won’t be offended.”

“Well, it’s just…”

“Just?”

“You’re a mess,” the bird-man blurted. Thomas blinked, surprised, then peered down at himself. Even without a mirror he could tell his appearance certainly was haggard. His apparel was entirely wrinkled and in disarray. He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but the assistant cut him off. “It would be ridiculous if I allowed you to see the head doctor himself looking like that! What kind of an assistant would I be then? Surely you understand I have a reputation to uphold.” The man spoke hurriedly without taking a single breath, or if he had then he had inhaled too quickly for Thomas to have noticed. It reminded him of a tiny sparrow hopping around and peeping nervously. Thomas wanted to roar with laughter and it took his entire willpower along with the fourteen years of manner lessons (or “obedience training” as he liked to call it) his childhood boarding school had beaten into him to stop himself.

“I see. I suppose I should wash up real quick then,” Thomas said, trying hard to seal the laughter that tried to bubble into his words. He then departed and, after entering the building and turning down the hall towards his destination, he broke down laughing.

Kayla Sontary sat on her window seat as she stared out the window. She watched as rain splattered against the window pain as she hugged her knees to her chest. She was trying her hardest to tune out the sounds of her parents arguing. Well, her father didn't really count as a father being that he was just her step father. She found herself thinking that he was just not worth being called a part of her family.

"Kaykay, they're fighting again..." wined Kayla's little sister Gina as Kayla turned her head to see Gina opening Kayla's bedroom door, rubbing her tired eyes.

Kayla scooted over so that her feet were touching the wood of her bedroom floor. She opened up her arms and motioned for Gina to come over. "Come over here. Make sure the door's shut behind you," spoke Kayla in a soft and soothing voice.

Gina crossed the threshold and shut the door behind her softly as she hurried over to Kayla to run into her sister's arms. Kayla wrapped her arms around Gina's small torso and pulled her up so that she was cradled on Kayla's lap. Kayla rested her back against the wall behind her and brushed her hand over the side of Gina's cheek in a calming way.

"Why do they have to fight? It's been this way all night...I can't sleep," wined Gina as she buried her face in Kayla's neck, searching for comfort. In response, Kayla tightened her arms around Gina and thought for a moment.

"Really? It's been that long already?" asked Kayla as she looked over at the digital clock sitting on her nightstand. It read two o'three in the morning. She sat up and pushed her eyebrows together. "Something's not right," murmured Kayla.

Kayla let go of Gina and sat her down beside her as she got to her feet. "Kaykay...where you going?" wined Gina in a worried tone.

Kayla put her hand out. "Stay there until I come back, alright?" asked Kayla as she walked over to her door and opened it to listen to the yelling more closely.

"...why you had to do that. Why? You know what? This is the same problem you've run into that you had last year...and the year before!" Kayla heard her mother yell, hearing the stress clearly.

"Know what? I'm sick of you yelling at me light this! You're nothing but a piece of crap! I'm so sick and tired of this!" she heard her stepfather yell back. And with that, Kayla heard a clear slap noise, causing for her to jump.

"What was that?" Kayla heard her sister ask in a worried tone.

Without an answer for her sister, Kayla moved out into the hallway and closed the door behind her as she hurried down the stairs. She froze half-way down at the sound of a set of new slaps. Next, she was running down the stairs to turn into the kitchen to find her mother on the floor just as she saw her step father's hand clenched around an empty bear bottle. He raised it and smashed it down against her mother's head. Kayla gasped and ran over to her mother. "You monster!" yelled Kayla as she attacked her stepfather.

She put so much forced into her attack that she pushed her step father up against the wall behind him and punched him before she could even think of what she was doing, enough to make him distracted by his own pain so that she could kneel down and check her mother. "Mom?" called out Kayla.

Even thought Kayla's mother's eyes were open, Kayla got no response. Realizing that she was dead, Kayla froze for a moment in horror as tears spilled over her cheek. She cursed above her voice as she turned back around and grabbed a knife off of the kitchen counter. She growled as hard as she can as she swung her hands above her head as she then swung down as the knife collided with her step father's arm.

Her step father yelped out in pain as he made no second thoughts as he reached over and pressed talk on the home phone. He dialed 911 as Kayla moved her hands back above her head for another blow. But he moved over in time for the knife in her hand to collide with the kitchen table's wood. "You monster! You killed her!" she then yelled.

The step father slapped Kayla so that her body fell to the floor with a loud 'ow!'. She then heard sirens outside the house. She was in so much of a state of shock and pain that she couldn't register fast enough to move so she could grab Gina and run.

Before she knew it, she felt hands grab her arms and pull them around to her back. She struggled against the grip, grunting and growling as she then felt a pinch on her one arm. She flinched and soon enough, she felt herself black out into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Kayla's eyes opened, she was in the back of a police car. She jerked her eyes opened and looked around. A policeman that she had never even seen before. She couldn't even recall seeing him around her town. She groaned and struggled against the hand cuffs uncomfortably wrapped around her wrists. She couldn't find her voice. All she could do was make moaning noises. She looked out at the window to see the car she was in driving down a long dirt road surrounded by an endless aged iron fence. She looked ahead out the front window to see a large mansion-like building at the end of the road that they were approaching.

Fear flooded her blood as she closed her eyes and focused. "Where are we going?" she finally voiced.

The policeman slightly turned his head to the side and looked back at the road. "Not where 'we're' going. It's were you're going. Evadale Asylum. "

Asylum? What? Kayla asked herself as she let out a puff of a nervous sigh.

When the car stopped at its destination, two men dressed in white nurse-like outfits exited the building to open up the door of the car where Kayla sat. The two men grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the car for her to slump down to the pavement. She let out a yelp as she re-gripped her arms harshly and pulled her back up and forced her to her feet as they practically dragged her to the doors. She tried her hardest to resist but she looked back at the car to see it already driving away.

"Don't resist. It'll only make it worse," Kayla heard one of them say. The voice was deep and calm, professional.

Kayla just found herself forcing her feet to move along with the pace of the two men as they brought her inside the building. The asylum. What did she get herself into?