Post by goldenrodprince on May 15, 2009 17:45:06 GMT -5
Excerpts taken from my journal. No touching please.
--The Joker. Batman (1989)[/right]
[/color]
T H E B A S I C S
T H E M I N D
T H E C O R P S E
T H E M E M O R I E S
Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile.
--The Joker. Batman (1989)[/right]
[/color]
T H E B A S I C S
name Ringorein
alias Ringo
age + sex 20, male
species kelpie x hippocampus
orientation gay
romance Jon, Sahvij
offspring none
T H E M I N D
alignment neutral evil
virtues sympathetic, kindhearted, clever
vices lustful, selfish, unstable, hopeless
diagnosis drug-induced schizophrenia, mania, depression
They always told me to hang in there...it's bullsh*t. What's the point in hanging around like a sad little ass when you have nothing to live for?
It's 5:15 AM when the ambulance finally roars into the hospital parking lot.
5:17 AM and the patient is in the ER. Suicide attempt.
High blood levels of methamphetamine suggests overdose.
Back at the scene, the windows are shattered with bullet holes.
A gun lays in the grass, along with a dog collar and a discarded syringe.
The police want nothing with it - they were expecting him to go anyways.
There was no murder; it was, as they call it, an open/shut case.
...I don't really want to do this because it will hurt the people I love. But I figure if I've already f*cked up, what's one more insult going to do?
5:25 AM. All they can do is try to stop the blood.
There are no bullets to retrieve. One entry wound, one exit.
The doctor doubts that his intestines survived the assault.
He'll probably die from complications, if not blood loss.
He's alive, for now. Wondering why he did what he did.
He's mentally screaming at himself - why? Why?
The doctor looks at the nurses and nods solemnly. Surgery.
T H E C O R P S E
fur yellow-white, light-grey
markings off-black spots
eyes wine red
hair silver, tawny, mouse-grey
extras lip ring(left side), 3 red jelly bracelets, corset piercing
form ragged, skinny, pathetic
mirrors one. two. quad to come.
T H E M E M O R I E S
Drug abuse had all but wiped out Ringo's memories of the past; if he had any left, his suicide attempt certainly wiped away the rest. He still remembers his friends and accomplices, but details from the past are vague, at best.[/blockquote]
He survived his episode in the hospital, but retained the same psychiatric horrors he was trying to escape. Under careful supervision he was shaped by doctors, psychiatrists and therapists, into a functioning being once again. It's been at least two years, and he can't help but smile as he signs the release forms. He hesitates for a moment, forgetting his name, but picks up the blue pen a second time and scrawls his name onto the bleak yellow paper quickly. The woman nods, offering him his coat and escorting him down the hallway, sliding the passcard through the sensor and unlocking the doors. She ushers him through, out of the 'Adults' section of the ward and into the lobby, before pressing the button on the elevator and leaving him waiting, silent. His clothes haven't been washed since last week, but the staff made him wash his hair every night. His scar has healed up nicely, leaving only a vague, faint ridge down his stomach. They had confiscated his piercings, bracelets, shoelaces, metal eraser-bands on pencils...he has nothing but the clothes on his back and a small stuffed rabbit a fellow inpatient had given him. The elevator pings and he steps in, hitting the button for the first floor.
The doors slide closed with a gentle whoosh and he hears them click together, seconds before the elevator begins to lower. He stands in silence, peaceful - yet there is a nagging in his gut...his eyes begin to widen as a tiny, near-silent voice croons in his mind once more. Here we go again.