The Words of the Insane

The Premise. It is an elite organization focusing on improving the mental health of those with associated disabilities along with those who have been deemed insane by licensed medical professionals. When this organization first came into being, things didn't change in the least bit. A few hospitals and asylums opened up, but there didn't appear to be a change in the treatment of those committed which was typically harsh. However, the leader of Premise, Chandler Raimes, initiated a quick sweep through the established facilities, giving pep talks to the staff, creating incentives for them to go about making changes to how they treated their patients. There were a great many that got fired due to negligence, but it merely opened the gate for a new flood of enthusiastic individuals who valued humanity and other people dearly, possessing an intense kindness that was needed to accomplish what Mr. Raimes was planning on accomplishing with his actions.

It bloomed. As an organization, The Premise received global acknowledgement and media exposure, allowing for more hospitals and such to be built in other countries who lacked the funding to properly take care of their mentally ill in a safe, encouraging environment. The Premise facilities in the United States only served to grow more as well, constantly receiving renovations and expansions along with the opening of more facilities. One such facility, found in a forest nearby to the town of Salem in Oregon, became one of the most popular establishments. It was the largest mental asylum on the West Coast, and most likely, in the entire country, and received frequent visits from Mr. Raimes ensuring optimal service from the staff along with a perfect environment in which the patients could get better.

And they did. Many patients committed to these asylums overcame their illnesses. Chandler Raimes received the Nobel Prize one year for what some politicians called "a miracle if such a word could exist in this world of ours." The U.S. President at the time, Raymond Bonds, said:

"With his aim, he breathed life into many parts of the world. Those who we thought were lost, trapped by the ethereal phantoms lingering within their own minds, had become saved by this man and the thousands of dedicated workers that made the whole deal possible, along with the companies that provided selfless and unconditional funding. It is to Mr. Raimes and these people that most of our friends and family can live comfortably beside us once again."

Mr. Raimes received the praises and prizes without a drop of arrogance. When he had a vision, he had to see it through. He stated that:

"I woke up one morning after losing my wife to severe depression and thought that this was happening everywhere. I had a friend who cried on my shoulder every time she visited her schizophrenic brother in the asylum on the other side of the city, and seeing the conditions of the place revolted her. I was enflamed with a rage that could not be quelled. It was a seed of determination that I had to see through. And I am very satisfied that there are many today who no longer need a shoulder to cry on, nor are losing loved ones to hopelessness of mental illness."

As the noble and modest leader of The Premise grew older, he was unable to make as many visits to the asylums and hospitals as he used to, but was proud that reports of good service and treatment still persisted. His spirit was enough to keep everyone fueled with his ambition, and nothing made him more happy. He heard of a famous author, one Jonathan Hesway, was committed to the asylum in Salem by a stranger after being found in the woods nearby, covered in a blanket of blank pages.

"The man was absolutely traumatized by something we could not figure out," one of the nurses at the asylum told a local newspaper. "He kept muttering to himself incomprehensively. We could tell it would be difficult to get him back to the way he used to be."

Seeing this man taken out of his prime in but an instant, the staff surged forward, trying their best efforts to get Jonathan to remember what happened to him and to remember his life before the incident, really. He was an amnesiac. When shown one of his own novels, he could not even recall writing it. His expression was one of sheer astonishment before curling up into a ball and muttering incomprehensible things again. As time drew on, some of his caretakers started to understand some of the words he was talking about. Intrigued by his ramblings, they pieced together what appeared to be a fictional world that he created of his own. They figured that it was going to be something for a future novel he planned to write. Had his ideas become too complex for him? A story that drove the author so mad that he could not write it? The workers reported this to their supervisors--it was critical information that could lead to the man's recovery. One of the supervisors, Christie Meakley, ordered a select few to give the man some paper and a pencil, but to observe him carefully. It had been proven that giving anything sharp to a person not mentally sound was not a good thing if left unsupervised.

Upon giving this man, Jonathan, the paper and pencil, he immediately quit his crazed utterings and wrote. However, his words were all jumbled up. After writing a page of nonsense, the man placed the pencil down calmly and sighed in relief. He crawled to the corner of the room, entered the fetal position, and remained silent. The group took the single page of paper to the lab to be analysed by professional technicians and psychologists. Lab results came up inconclusive and the group was ordered to return the evidence and their reports to Ms. Meakley. Though inconclusive as a whole, they did note a strange phrase in the center of the page not in any of the human languages, but in a code that was recognized to be commonplace in Mr. Hesway's novels.

What did it mean though? As they were walking, one of the group looked over the paper and saw the circled phrase. It was an odd one.

"What does it even mean? Usirus, condu vene ital lorina rjna ola na uduo tyrjha. Sounds like something Hesway would come up with right? I'm a fan of his novels an--"

The worker was cut off. A nurse at the end of the hallway bore witness to what appeared to be circles of light appearing on all sides of the small group of asylum workers: to the left, right, above, below. There was a brilliant flash and they were gone. The paper and report was incinerated, but a single phrase was scorched in the place where they once stood.

Fallen ones, knowledge has been passed and tears shall cease to fall.

No one knew what it meant, or where the group had gone. For all anyone knew, they were gone...

...forever.

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In case above passage was too vague, some asylum workers wind up getting whisked away to a world that they once believed to be a fictional setting the author Jonathan Hesway created, but in fact, was a memory of an actual world implanted in the man's mind by a mysterious stranger which in the end, caused the author to go insane attempting to get the knowledge of this world, which was in danger, to someone who could do something about it. And you see the results of that. How does it sound?

I like it, quite a bit actually. I'd definitely be willing to look into it more and see just what goes on! ^.^

Also note that there's a 99.99% chance of it NOT being a statplay. So it'll be a regular role play if I ever decide to start it.

I'm still interested, regardless.

Sounds nice, it's rather creepy and mysterious. Fits my tastes rather well. I'm definitely interested :3

Masquerade wrote:So it'll be a regular role play if I ever decide to start it.

You mean like LoC: Equilibrium?

Yes, exactly like that. It'll start during the last couple of days that the group is on Earth, most likely during the observation period of Hesway writing the weird stuff on the paper. They turn in paper, get results the next day. The careless Hesway fan of the group then reads the phrase and poof. -.-