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Mandatory New [Patient] Assesments



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20 June 2016, 03:24 AM   #1
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 11 November 2016
Mandatory. For after all, the new magistrates were quite clear. It was all very tedious. Because everything had to be completely re-written. In long lengthy paragraphs upon fresh parchment- the ink revealed every little secret. It was declared - by the high powers of England- Every girl is to be inspected. Every girl assessed. Every freckle. Every spot. Every curl. Not a single one shall be admitted unless there was a turn over rate of 100%. There had to not just be hope for the girl's recovery. Not just balancing numbers, nor charts, and no longer would a simple note suffice. The Church had quite enough of all the unmarked graves. Poor little dolls - many of decent beauty- fell into ditches. Leaving very desperate nobles, priests, and monarchs to command justice. They needed heirs. They wanted Every detail written. Therefore nothing was spared. Unfortunately, this meant, there was no time for pious modesty. And no Nurses have been officially hired yet (because they too needed a mandatory exam. Which was an entirely different headache.) Yes. You will be stripped. Yes, surely, every girl is going to be searched Thoroughly. Like a canvas. A sublime masterpiece, that one might've called a forgery. To wash away all doubt- that this portrait might be a fake- it must be assessed. For quality, and craftsmanship. The physical examination only took a moment or to. Depending how deep within the bottle the Doctor was this morning. Prior to that, or even during, the Physical evaluation the Doctor will ask you many questions. Many questions. There was nothing more valuable in a women then her ability to be of a sound mind. Hence this portion took quite some time. Days in fact. Two hours, 3 hours, 4 hours, However long.˜ Because no one could know for sure if a girl was a good candidate... At least not until all the questions were answered.˜ ˜˜˜˜ ˜* ˜˜˜˜ So, hurry along dear poppets. The Doctor will see you now.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

20 June 2016, 04:22 AM   #2
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
Last edited by ‹fuckingpickyournoseidiot›, 20 June 2016
Genevieve Adams, Mildred Ainsworth, Rowena Ashdown. Some girls Evangeline knew, and others, she did not, but she needed not to know who they were to feel sorry for them. Or, for herself, perhaps, for she was the next to be taken to the good doctors office. It'd been... some time, since she had been inside the facility, and even longer since she interacted with the Head Doctor. Before she was dismissed to her new family, she'd done everything she could to avoid the man. Her father -- or so went the rumor. " Evangeline Grace Asmosia. " A huff of air escapes between her lips, small hands coiling around the sides of her powder blue gown and lifting it so that it did not drag along the floor as she began the short walk alongside the orderly. (what a surprise, her special treatment did not go unnoticed, she receives quite a few dirty looks as she walks) She makes a feeble attempt at idle chit-chat: "And how has your day been?" -- But it's met with a cold, silent stare that makes her shoulders droop with dread. She'd almost nearly forgotten how horrid this place was. Almost. Her nostrils expand as a final puff is blown through. She squares her shoulders and lifts her head, chin up, and plasters that friendly, effervescent smile across her peach lips. She thanks the orderly (who responds with a gruff grunt before taking up his position outside the door) and knocks a loose-knuckled fist on the heavy wood of the door, onetwothree. Somebody responds within, and Evangeline eases the door open, making her way inside. Her right ankle hooks behind the left and she folds at the knees, greeting the good doctor with a well-practiced curtsy. After, she uses a lithe hand to flick the hair back off of her shoulders and begins to undo the ribbon bow sitting at the small of her back. " If you wouldn't mind, doctor, I should like to complete the physical examination in a timely manner, and of my own accord. " Such eloquence in such a young, pretty thing. Inherited from her whore mother, some had said. Still - why was she here, amongst the filth and rags? -- And just like that, she's stepping out of her gown and draping it over one of the chairs just in front of the desk, carefully as to not put too many more wrinkles in it. Not that it mattered so much, she would likely be shoved right into another ghastly slip when this was done and over. Thankfully, the young woman had the decency to actually wear undergarments, unlike many of the wenches in the place. Creme colored (and quite expensive looking), the see-through chemise top was tucked into a blue ribbon waistband of her drawers, which were just as see-through and decorated with the same ribbon and ruffles along the bottom. Evangeline lifts her right arm, turning it this was and that, showing that there were no odd markings or discolorations there. She follows with the left, and then both move up to her thick, dark, familiar hair as she spins around and lifts it off of the back of her neck. Nothing at the nape of her neck, or between her shoulderblades, not even on her spine. Facing the good doctor yet again, Eva leans down and gently eases up the legs of her drawers to a decent level, exposing either thigh. Nothing there, either, aside from a tiny brand of a dot on the outside of her thigh - probably caused by rough housing, or some childhood mishap. It was too insignificantly small to even be noticed, unless the good doctor had developed a keen eye for small details. Eva clears her throat once she'd finished in her rather brash and sudden act of showing off her body to the head doctor. She makes quick work of redressing herself, muttering a half-hearted apology as she sunk into the chair before the desk. Her ankles cross below the seat and her hands fold together, coming to rest atop her knee. Lips purse, a well-kept brow raised. A familiar expression of one long-since forgotten. Some said her ghost roamed the halls -- others protested it was just the young Evangeline and her mouse-like footfall. " It is very pleasant to be seeing you again, Dr. Haste. " Oh, what a lying tongue that girl held between her teeth. That same polite smile, the slightest tilt of the head to feign an interest in whatever his answer may be. She seemed to be the picture of grace and innocence. Oh, but -- if she were here, that surely could not be true. dress | drawers & chemise
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

21 June 2016, 05:03 AM   #3
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
There was an abysmal amount of throbbing in the doctor's left temple. The girl before Evangeline had quite the nerve. She had a head full of air, dead flies in her hair, and worse of all- a temper. In short. The doctor had a long scratch across his face. The girl hadn't the ability to understand what she was doing, before nor after, for she was too hysterical. Punishing her, even with a whip, would be only a waste of Haste's good strength. Strength he needed every ounce of in order to get through the today's screening. Haste deal with the cut by applying a moist hot rag ever so often. He would hold it there for about a minute or so, and then drag on with his work. At most, the damage to his face would heal within the week. He just had to keep the swelling down. Even though, years ago, such an event would've made Haste longing for a bottle. He took to many strikes to be weak hearted anymore. All the dark wine he drank in honor of his pity parties were now gone. Leaving only himself to depend on. Bits and pieces of Haste are still very much broken. Just not to the extent of seeking refuge every time something goes awry. Haste wasn't tired, despite working nearly 13 hours. No- his eyes didn't even utter fatigue. Because He simply lived for these girl. These... Petty little sirens.... These grotesque and forgotten whores. He held gentle eyes for every single one, and detested the new laws- RESTRICTING his right- his God given duty- to fashion them back into pure gold. He wanted each crippled girl to be wrapped in delicate ivory. He wanted to see another Rachel. And this fantasy gnawed at at him. Like termites to fresh wood. Elliot's eyes yanked themselves open, and up, and awake. Elliot groaned, into the crook of his right hand. Annoyed, because he couldn't remember when he he fell asleep. Immediately, Haste regarded sleeping as such foolishness on his part. There was simply to much to do. Too many angels - even now - are still caged up. "It is very pleasant to be seeing you again, Dr. Haste. " "I never asked you to speak." Dr. Haste bidded titling his head slightly. Elliot was failing at pretending to be puzzled. "You're much to proud of yourself. Never, undress unless asked. Otherwise- your a undisciplined, infantile, heedless whore." Even the cheapest London whore or substandard harlot kept their robes on until signaled. Haste did take note of how superior she was in speech. A beautiful sounding husk she was. And if Elliot was able to be honest- he did enjoy the fact he didn't need to even utter a word for the examination to commence. For it seemed that- er- um- Haste peered to a piece of parchment laying on his desk beneath him. "Miss... Grace" The collection of information on her was scarce. Practically nothing helpful. Dr. Haste crossed his arms, then narrowed his eyes. His eyes were like concentrated stabbings of electric blue. There was partial affinity within them. But much closer to the surface of his eyes, was thick scrutiny. Elliot slowly rested his back against the chair. Haste's semblance was challenging the little lass's ability to keep her witty charm. Haste liked the show. Or perhaps the great effort on the girl's part. What she was wearing, what her form took as she stood, then politely took her place. It made less work for him. If nothing else less coaxing. However if she already knew what the dealings were in this examination.. "What year were you previously admitted? I don't have you on file." Or any files. he realized mentally. But actually, perhaps there was a better place to start. Curiosity took it's place, "Rather, tell me, i don't recall ever formally meeting you, Miss Grace." Elliot put a cloth to his cheek once again, pressing it gently. Fondly. Dearly. Elliot let the heat sting his senses. And He held it closer. Doctor Haste had not a single idea about the insidious rumors that whispered the halls around him. About him. Had they no shame? These pathetic assumptions- deranged fantasies- corrupting the minds of all who hear. But even so, the gossip was revealed in all the cold stares and sneering envy. The story goes very different depending on whose tongue is telling it. However, no matter whose lips it comes from, there is always the same curious idea... Perhaps it was only a rumor. But in all due respect, the only people who dare speak of it, are not known. Just whispers in the hallways. faint whispers. ooc: i hope u weren't hopping for a better response than this. lol i tried. But Haste is a TOUGH GUY TO PLEASE. HE'S AN ASSHOLE. been an asshole since forever actually xD
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

21 June 2016, 05:24 AM   #4
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
Last edited by ‹fuckingpickyournoseidiot›, 22 June 2016
Evangeline clears her throat gently. " I was first admitted when I was born, Doctor. My mother was a whore, and a patient here, and my father - " Her crystalline gaze slips across his ragged features, searching for some semblance of a reaction. " I should hope you will excuse my tongue - Bastardized me. Never claimed me as his own. I grew up here. " The young lady twists her head left and right, looking around the office. There was a very old looking porcelain baby doll on one shelf - Eva suspected it was to be used on patients with motherly tendencies, for therapy or torture. On another shelf sat a tea set, white colored with blue floral designs. Pretty. Her lips twitch into a grin. " Dr. Harland was my primary care physician, I suspect, because they wished not to burden you with a girl who isn't even mad. " Ocean-blue eyes flit back to the good doctor, whom she vaguely remembered. He didn't seem as hostile now as she remembered him, and that brought her some relief. Perhaps he wouldn't declare her insane and she'd be free to go home. But now she was back. Why? Only she knew, truly. The way she knew things, remembered things she'd seen only once with her own eyes. Her fingers twiddle nervously in her lap for a mere moment before she stuffs them away below her bottom. No - she stands, and with light footsteps she floats over to the shelf and plucks the doll from it. " Holly, isn't it? " But how could she know that? Remember that? She returns to her seat and sets the doll in her lap, lithe fingers coiling through its' straw-colored hair and tying delicate french braids. Listening intently as the man spoke, Evangeline nodded here and there, to prove that she was, in fact, listening to what was being said. Though, she can't help but to cringe at the incorrect name to which she was referred. While smoothing her dress over her knee, (another nervous habit, no doubt), she speaks up in a confident, yet soft and ladylike tone: " With all due respect, Doctor Haste - my last name is Asmosia, not Grace. "
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

22 June 2016, 05:44 AM   #5
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Elliot's heart was fast to follow the young girl's every movement. The young girl fidgeted with her dress a tad, and held a decent amount of eye contact. While Elliot's eyes were more like blue thunder, Evangeline's were soft shallow waves. "It could be, her training." Haste thought to himself. Thinking that, with only a short time outside of therapy, someone managed to teach her social etiquette. For what poise she had. It peaked Elliot's interests at the very least. Oh yes, what a fine accomplishment~ The little harlot's harlot was starting to gain some ground. She could hold her wit. She could form compelling words. She could entertain. Very well. But all couldn't be toowell. After all, she was here to be admitted. But ..... on what grounds? Haste could only theorize, that there was some mistake..? This girl was utterly delightful- young and fresh with whoredom certainly. But... delightful. Elliot's eyes pitched new curiosity once the girl came to the doll and mentioned Its name. As if by heart, she recalled the familiar syllables. Haste outlined his jaw with the palm of his hand as he studied the girl. 'Holly' It was an old model now, however when he bought it, from an expensive boutique in Paris it was top of the line. The parish which now oversaw St. Helgas were not very accommodating to the girls here.. However, despite the Church's obvious distaste for frail imperfection, they did grant Haste whatever he asked for. New equipment. New staff. Funding. The church's collection of tithes were never-ending. Haste new this, because the long list of things he requested were met with energetic approvals. In regards to the Doll's current state- it was just as fair as when Haste acquired it. For it held the dearest blue eyes and the daintiest features. It's curls were still like silk, and the dress was still a brilliant velvet. In spite of it's beauty, it was old. Dated. Haste kept it without much thought. But he can acquire more now. Besides, the doll reminded him to much of - "Your delusions are ..charming." The doctor remarked, as the girl took her place again. Haste's stare was cold. But as he said,'charming', the smallest ounce of smile appeared. "Harland preforms lobotomies." Harland had the most peculiar set of graphs and diagrams depicting the subject. Personally, Haste found the method - sickening to watch. However, there was a great reward if preformed perfectly. The results were simply sublime. Hence, the procedure did have it's place. The doctor leaned forward, and picked up his writing quill from the stand, and began to write. "Dr. Harland might've tapped a little to hard on the sickle. My sincerest apologies. Sometimes post procedure, the mind can be left with perplexing thoughts." Like being related to the dead. senseless fantasies. "I can eye you, and confidently say, you are sober. And You are competent." this was a high complement coming from the doctor. "I'm assuming your only here on account of how tangled your memories are." Elliot looked up from his paper, and glanced back down, the name still showed 'Grace' as Evangeline's last name. "I'll make you right as rain Ms. Grace." "Dr. Harland shall preform another simple procedure." A procedure? Haste went on to explain, in a straight forward measure, "He'll Pluck you -my darling girl- in a chair," Haste gestured with his hands, in order for the girl to better follow his voice. For Ms. Gracel very often seemed lost in thought. "Tilt your head up 90 degrees, insert the pin through the slant in your eye, then tap the bobby. You shall return home. Right as rain." Haste felt it was best not to address the circumstances of an unsuccessful procedure, nor how painful it shall be in either case. Haste gave a small tender smile. Promptly, the doctor reached into a stack of folders under his desk, and pulled a single sheet out. It was a printed certificate. Decorated with a beautiful engraving and border along the paper's edges. The sheet faced up, and Haste slid the document and quill towards her. It was a contract of sorts. Another new obligation the Parishioners authorized. Every patient must sign a non-transferable, irrevocable service contract between themselves and the Church state. "Simply print your name. This paper shall represent your consent." And my guilt if anything shall go awry. Haste nodded his head, because he was also very dependent upon the contract. Her contract was to the church. But Haste had to sign one also- not to the church, but to her. He was anxious to see what beautiful creature she would turn into once he signed his mark to her~ The good doctor could see it now; at once, the fantasy all but came to life; It's dark. Her thin form strapped to a chair. His hands upon her head and dragging out precious gold and jade. Baptizing her. As well as hushing any elfin devils that plagued her. The sun shall rise, and the window to her pure heart will open.Just the idea beckoned chills to his shoulders and sides. Haste rested his shoulders. This... lovely.... sensation was restorative to the doctor's longing soul. His eyes crossed from cobalt thunder to pallid sapphires. If Haste were to describe the passion of needles in his chest, The good doctor would say, it's like a brisk fire. Something dizzying like red wine. But holds your skin sensitive, and your hairs distinctively tremble. Like a boiling pot of water. Imagine Your heart is drowning in a kindled ocean. Imagine the sky dropped stars upon your back. Think of your first love. The doctor's heart was jovial in so much anticipation, as his guts told him howeasy this would be. How quickly he could see this angel grow wings. Carry the needle to her eye, inject the cane to the flesh of her skull, and nick the center.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

23 June 2016, 02:32 AM   #6
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
The girl flicks a pink tongue across her peach lips, gaze flitting to the document being slid towards her, and then back. Though she takes the quill in hand, and poises it above the ink well, she does not move to sign it. " A lobotomy would not work. " She comments, after some silent moments pass. A manicured brow flicks up as she eases the writing utensil down - quite the familiar gesture, in fact, like a mirror image. " If it did not work on my mother, it surely would not work on me. And, as I said before, doctor - I am not ill. Only perceptive. " She brings a finger up to tap her temple twice, before it falls back to the doll, she continuing to braid its' soft hair. " Behind me, " She begins, her voice soft and unsteady, as though she were nervous to be sharing her secret with the doctor. Her eyes remain on the doll except for when they glance up to gauge his reactions. " You've got, in order: 'Great Expectations' by Charles Dickens, 'The Importance of Being Earnest' by Oscar Wilde, 'Victorian London' by Liza Picard, and 'A Young Woman's Guide to Etiquette and Manners' -- well worn, I might add - by Thomas Hill. Beside that rests a china tea-set, and below that a glass jewelry box. An empty, ornate pair of salt and pepper shakers are to the right of that. " Finally, her hands stop their incessant fidgeting and she brings her frightened warm gaze back to the doctor. Perhaps he'd throw her onto a bed then and there, or have her arrested for being a witch. Her tongue swipes along her lips again.
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

23 June 2016, 04:50 AM   #7
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Haste wouldn't deny the girl's abilities were, "Impressive." He desired to know more. What else could the harlot do? The doctor's eyes scanned over the books behind her, all she correctly named, and then she went on to lace the doll's blonde hair. Impressive indeed. Although, Haste wouldn't be persuaded in setting the girl free. The poor girl's suspicions were spot on. The doctor was beginning to believe Eva rolled dice, and studied mystic literature. A witch. Like Perry Haste could call the London guard and be rid of her instantly. Because everyone knew how the Church perceived occult enthusiasts. Simply put, they were Dead men. Haste also wouldn't stand for it. What a detestable pass time for a lady to dabble in. Witchcraft. Yes, Surely, Eva provided nosolid evidence that she was a sorceress. However, her observations were stunning. And that's all anyone needed now a days. Simple accusation. Haste was thankful that the girl did sign the contract. With delay, yes. But at least it was done. Haste sought the paper and placed it inside his desk to file later. A lobotomy wouldn't work, aye? Nonesense. Haste hadn't known Eva for to long, but she was obviously very knowledgable about ... In fact to danm knowledgable aboutit. His Rachelle. Haste wouldn't let the girl out of his sight. Somehow she is getting into all the Hospital's confidential files. How else would she know so much about the past? "Oh, my~ Haste began to play a small smile upon his lips. "Do you also tell fortunes?" he mocked, "Read palms? Or perhaps you dabble in necromancy?" The doctor's eyes turned sharp now. He was purposely ridiculing her, Because it repulsed him; His expression turned cold. The idea of his precious little pearl practicing such... Devilry. It was vile. It had no place in a lady's heart, mind, or within her hands. Elliot relaxed his shoulders again, seeing as how the tiny girl showed him comforting eyes. Evageline had these warm eyes that Elliot plainly hated. They were such a beautiful coral blue- yet they were attached to a bloody whore. Correction, she was officially, His bloody whore now. "Enough of that. You must get better, for you have no choice." It would be either that.... Or death. The doctor's tone became hard-bitten. As if to cut through the girl's thoughts with his words. He wanted to destroy these delusions. Quickly. Haste was also quick to point out, "For if I cannot write a good report about you. You willbe hanged." "If the first lobotomy shan't do it, then the second surely will." Surely. Elliot sighed, he hadn't realized the time. He would need to pick up the pace if he wanted to go home tonight.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

23 June 2016, 05:58 PM   #8
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
" Oh, yes, necromancy. Why, every full moon I flee to the forests and run naked with my head inside that of a severed goats'. " Evangeline pulls a coy expression, her tone absolutely dripping with sarcasm. Hopefully, the doctor had some semblance of humor, or he may just have her detained right there. Evangeline eases forwards, resting the doll at the edge of his desk so that the feet hung off of the edge. Its' golden hair was tied into an intricate pattern of braids and twists, something resembling a wedding hairstyle. Eva, meanwhile, drapes her hands back across her knee. " I'm not ill. I can do plenty of things an ill person could not. I sew, cook, bake, read, ride horses, why, I am even an adept archer. " An annoyed huff of air leaves her lips as she casts her gaze to the window. " My mother, now - she was ill, doctor. And as I understand, one of your worst patients. " Evangeline could play this game. Pretend she didn't know that the good doctor was her father, just like he was pretending not to know. He was pretending, wasn't he? " But - it would seem there is no swaying your opinion. A shame for me. " Another puff out of her nose and the girl stands, her own previously warm disposition replaced with something cold and rock-hard. Just like Rachelle, Evangeline's mood was capable of turning 'round on a dime. " Good day, Doctor Haste. " And after curtsying again, the young woman makes for the door.
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

26 June 2016, 04:23 AM   #9
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 26 June 2016
ooc: the first line had me thinking of Abigail from the crucible. And to bad that novel wasn't written yet. bc it would've been so charming to Haste. And with that the girl convinced him to smile, just a tad. The Harlot was witty. Haste was willing to give her that much. "Oh, i have no doubt my girl. No doubt." Haste was writing something down again, circling further notes upon the girl's file. Now Ms. Grace's report was beginning to look more full and presentable. For only moments ago, it was barely more then a piece of paper with her name on it. Haste allowed the doll to sit at his desk, delighted that the girl hadn't knotted the dolls hair. Nor was it a simple design. Splendid. It was... tasteful. Okay, fine, bloody fine, maybe the girl was leading a successful campaign for herself. Championing herself as sane and her mind kept. Maybe, Haste gladly listened to her plea. Ms. Grace asserted how great her skill was, and all the things she knew for herself. Elliot stopped writing, and held her gaze with half lidded eyes. Admittedly now, Haste had to give her a little more slack. For she was already leaps and bounds above the other girls in speech. But for goodness sake she couldcook too? Never in his right mind would Haste give one of his patient's a candle let alone a match to light a kettle pot. Heaven forbid it. "My mother, now - she was ill, doctor. And as I understand, one of your worst patients. " Elliot was quiet as he listened. His hands folded under his chin. His eyes an inquisitive blue and a satisfied grin on his lips. Thinking of Rachelle. Oh, what merry urges rose in him. And he didn't have a single outlet for any of it. It was... Oh certainly was.. ... How that pushed a thorn into his side; Vexing him. That vexation drew blood. And out with the blood came the most captivating passions within the doctor. The urge to push, prod, and piece together with his tongue. And his lips. Especially his thighs.And there goes that gnawing pain again in his chest. "Just a minute Miss Grace." It was obvious the girl was trying to make her leave. But seeing as how Haste wasn't quite ready yet, her request was refused. Blatantly. Denied. Haste departed from his chair to meet the girl at the door. His towering frame loomed over her, and she was in his shadow. A trap was looming in the distance. As he closed the distance. "A lady doesn't leave my sight without being dismissed." The doctor whispered. As if already forgiving. "Nor without a kiss." Was... Was he kidding? "...Close your eyes for me." Or perhaps not. No.. Certainly... Not. And with the door closed by his hand, which leaned over her, there was no escaping his intent.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

26 June 2016, 04:48 AM   #10
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
And just like that, the game was no longer fun. Evangeline had to tell him. Didn't she? She must, she thought, as the good doctor loomed over her like something out of a nightmare. Why, he wasn't much taller than she, but she was quite weak in the torso and presumed she'd be unable to fend him off should he try and force himself upon her. Creeping backwards, Evangeline flattens herself against the wall, creating some distance between the pair. "Please, be rational, Doctor Haste." A shaken huff of air escapes from between her lips and she looks anywhere - but God, did Eva look like her. Ebony tresses cascading down her shoulders in near curls, eyes the color of the ocean the first day of summer, and that pale, seemingly unblemished skin. It was like looking at a photograph - except, for Haste, one should say more like a mirror. "Please stop!" Eva dares to raise her voice at the doctor as he continues his unfaltering approach. Her palms wrap around the door trim, gripping it tight like she might somehow yank it from the wall and bash him over the head with it. In any other circumstance the thought may have made her grin, but now she just looked - simply put, the young lady looked terrified. And at the mere thought of a kiss. Why? "Elliot, please." Oh, the stories she'd heard. How his devil of a tongue snaked it's way to her mother's heart and later below the folds of her dress. How he was oh-so-kind during the day but when night fell, oh, the spirits in the cabinet called to him and he drank and drank until he could no longer feel the touch of his unrequited lovers. When he continues his approach her peach lips spill open and she shouts, "I'm your daughter!" without thinking of the consequences that could follow.
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

26 June 2016, 06:21 AM   #11
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
And it was all a ploy really. Even with Elliot's eyes dancing in erotic fire, his lips only ever loomed so close. That is, until the young vixen shifted her form away from his. At the moment Ms. Grace held herself against the door. Tightly. Haste was not deterred. Frankly, Haste was glad to see hesitation. "For if you are as witty as you portray..." And Elliot had every faith that she was. Rachelle. "I can't have you escaping me. Running off with... still devoid of a cure." For their time together was just beginning. Odd, that the girl didn't melt into his fingers yet. She was melting- but not as the others had. And her eyes didn't fall shut yet. Was she scared of what he'd do to her? Wasn't she at the cusp of her adolescence? It may be the fact Miss Grace was witty, but just never charmed by another. As the questions arose as to why Miss Grace was stalling- the most baffling tongue arose from her lips. 'Elliot, please.' 'I'm your daughter!' Someone definitely heard that. To Haste's great dismay. His eyes narrowed, as he mentally put the pieces together. Haste assumed this is what all the fuss was about among the faculty. They persuaded this poor girl to believe in this... Ungodly... Revolting... ... Such aninconceivable thing! All to soon, it was uttered in his presence, by no less from the lips of this hysterical... Sow. "Count yourself lucky..." That, "I haven't been drinking." Because, "I would woefully scar you." Unforgivingly. Seeing as how tightly she held this fantasy.. Haste couldn't help but want to beat it out of her. Rachelle was a seductive whore. Yes, she was Hiswhore. Yet all the more a whore. Nonetheless... Haste remembered, 'Carry the needle to her eye, inject the cane to the flesh of her skull, and tap the bobby. Tap. The. Bobby.' "Close. Your. eyes." The doctor seethed through his soft tongue. His eyes were cold. Like metal doors; trying to coerce her into shushing all her worries away. ooc: "sow" like the female pig/swine not as in planting seeds. lol turns out they r spelled the same way. which i didn't know. just dewitttttt. <3 trussst meeeeee
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

26 June 2016, 08:42 PM   #12
Joined: 29 Sep 2015
Posts: 99
And so, the terrified young woman pinched her eyes shut and twisted her face up, bracing herself back against the doorway. She did not want whatever was coming, but - she was more afraid of what would happen if she defied the good doctor, or worse, tried to fend him off. Instead, she thinks back to another time. She's three years old, able to freely run around the asylum halls so long as she avoids the west wing. She visits her mother frequently, in between Rachelle's treatments with the good doctor. Her mother reads to her and teaches her how to braid her hair, promises that so long as she's around, nothing bad will happen. Eva is four years old, shoved into the broom-closet of a room behind Dr. Harland's bookcase. "You must stay hidden," they tell her, her mother is crying but Eva doesn't understand what she's done wrong. "Or the head doctor will punish us all." So much responsibility thrust onto her. She stayed hidden in that broom closet for nine more years. She's nearing her fifth birthday when the news comes. She isn't told directly, but hears one of the patients sobbing to Dr. Harland through the door. "She just lept off of the tower! She died in my arms, took her last breath and choked on her blood. She left me." And me, thought Evangeline, who did not shed any tears. Evangeline is overcome with a rush of emotions in the moment between the doctors last spoken words, and his actions. Her breath hitches and her hands ache, coiling up behind her back into puny fists. “How could you do this to me?” The sharp sting of guilt that was not hers to feel. She feels something even though she's meant to do the opposite. The best friends she never had. Falling backwards through time. Quicksand. Drowning, but she can't save herself. “You’re getting better.” They smile like a snake. Adam in the garden. A serpent in crisp button-downs. “Fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you?” They lie so perfectly she almost forgets herself. The spark that lit the kindling on her funeral pyre. What a funny duck, they say. Red Balloons. “I'm worried about you.” Imaginary friends are funny things; they point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece.
Evangline Asmosia-Haste. Fifteen. Orphan. Eidetic Memory. Female Hysteria.

27 June 2016, 03:34 AM   #13
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
And there it was~ What the doctor had been waiting for, since the very beginning. Opportunity. The smaller girl beneath his gaze held her eyes tautly shut. Was she Frightened? Of him? Or the darkness that she now rested in? She ought to be calm. He wished he could tell her so. But- denied himself that. Because if he truly did know her well, she wouldn't hold still for so long. No girl would've. Oh, but this was easy. He convinced himself. After all, the girls never noticed it. When his hand gently acquired a Branding iron from the hot furnace behind his desk, and held it behind his back as he might a casual gift. It had been sitting in hot coal. It was a small, iron crook, with a bar stamp at the end. The stamp was in no particular wording. Just a simple letter stood at the end of it. An A. Adulteress. For they had forsaken God, sanity, and their pure nature. That's what the Church wanted. Something that the Church Convent ordered he do. Without fail. Haste was hoping the iron was hot enough still, because he spent longer then he wanted to with it out the furnace. It always needed to stay hot- he was told. Otherwise the metal would wear cool and he'd have to press harder. And indeed, Haste didn't want topress at all. her eyes closed, Haste placed a gentle hand under her chin, to extend upwards. And there~ There was a fine spot. The neck. Just an Inch below the ear, and and inch behind. Haste drew closer, coupled with the iron in his hand. .... Gently... Gently... Gently, OH, so very gently, his lips occupied hers. While In contrast, the way he pressed the raw heated metal against the base of her neck. The feeling was blistering. The bent ore that held her skin, and seethed deeper beneath would be Permanent. Ghastly. Even if Grace tried to push away, Elliot forced her body still. Because his other hand snatched what freedom she had away. All of it draining away. It made the most agonizing Sounds too. The Iron sizzled and popped against the ends of her Cinnamon brushed hair; her fair skin was forced to curdle away and blacken, and the matter beneath it too. With that he only pressed harder still against her lips. Not wishing her to loose heart. He was almost finished. Despite the fact there was nothing but the smell of soot and ashes upon them. He was almost finished.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

9 July 2016, 05:08 PM   #14
Joined: 20 Jun 2016
Posts: 101
Last edited by ‹ㅑJïNxㅜㅇNㅕ›, 9 July 2016
Elliot's eyes read over the name, for the billionth time; Blackwell. "Fetch me Ms. Blackwell." "Yes, Right away, Head doctor." The nurse scampered up, off, and out of the room. Elliot's half lidded eyes fell back down to his desk, upon the paper, which held the name. The name held a distinct taste. Although, Elliot couldn't even imagine how his name might've tasted for her. Was it even tasteful? Elliot halfheartedly smiled. The Doctor absently wondered why on Earth couldn't he stall for a little longer? He could always skip Ms. Blackwell, and ferry the girl after her.... and then the next girl after that... Until he had no other choice left. Another option was to simply reject the application altogether. Simply decline. He could send his lovely trinket abroad- with the hope; somehow, somewhere, something would make her well again. Personally, Elliot didn't know of any other Asylum in London that wasn't already in the midst of being torn down... But that wasn't his problem. Unless he made it such. Then again, Elliot could always write a letter, persuading in all eloquence saying she was incurable. The church would see that one word, and Ms. Blackwell would no longer be his problem. Or anyone's. To my dismay and the best of my effort, Ms. Blackwell has proven herself Incurable. Please carry on her final days at your discreation. Sincerely Head Doctor, Elliot Austin Dennis Haste II And then with that, the Church would lock her away. Far away. And Then, Elliot would watch herhang from the scaffolding. Her body would lifelessly dull back and forth. Her sweet face as an untold identity; censored with a burlap bag. The crowd applauded. Good show. Elliot propped his chin under his hand, as he rested his elbow on his desk. His eyes were quiet blue orbs. He couldn't help but question it. And slowly started to dread it. His fantasy just wouldn't yield. He kept thinking, what good could come of this? Could he do anything for her? Elliot sighed. He was discontent. Discontent that now, he must dig past those beautiful eyes and convict a murderer. These thoughts weren't helping him in the slightest. His head was working against him, producing nothing but animosity. As if Elliot didn't want anything to do with it. With her. Which was certainly, true. But it was unlike him to be so dissident in the first place. And worst of all, either way, there'd be paperwork... So much. Paper.Work. Todo. Elliot cringed. The doctor found a cigarette between his lips, as he swiped a match across the lighting strip. puffpuff.huff. Only a little of his nerves were culled. It was far from what Elliot still needed to be calm. It wasn't like Elliot didn't want to see her. They just left things... How his parents made him leave things- was deplorable- as if Elliot didn't love her. Breathe. Well... All that was messy to begin with.... But... -b-b...but not the first part. How he left it. Clearly, Like some broken thing he left to gather dust on the floor. Elliot breathed in more fumes. The smoke burned his throat. If felt like hell. The only Reason Elliot was smoking rather then drinking was because he promised himself... A very dumb promise, that, he wouldn't touch a single bottle until the day was done... But who knew the day would drag for so long? Satan did. And Satan held his chin. Drink. Tilting it up, Why not Drink and be merry? He said. Drink and be merry.
The Good Head Doctor Doctor Elliot Austin Haste. 42. {Head Doctor} Rehabilitation and Psychology. Anthony Blair Hughes. 15. {Apprentice} Colonial Peasant. Orphan Helena 'Cherry' 14. Local Daughter of the London Abbey house

9 July 2016, 08:58 PM    #15
Joined: 23 Jun 2016
Posts: 32
The walls were bland, the people are noisy, and I doubt the food is any good here. Lilith mumbled to herself. She wasn't a bit nervous as she walked by so many people who seemed to be waiting for this Doctor. A doctor Lilith knows, but decided to not meddle on it. If I keep my mind on this then I will enter the room angry and unresponsive. I must stay calm and true. She thought to herself. Haste... Why Haste? I know this man. Please let it not be this man. Another Haste would be just fine. She would carry no unnecessary anger towards him. Just the feeling of abandonment from the name, along with the Blackwells. For nearly a decade she was alone. No father, no mother, no lover, no....... brother. The one thing she held dear to her even more then her love for this man, was her brother. And he left her to rot in a mess. Then Haste left her. Alone in that cruel place where she grew to hate it and despise it. Now she will be under the care of the one man she most definitely did not want to see for quite awhile. Her anger was not fully gone. As her and the nurse approached the door, Lilith's heart started to flutter. These old feelings made her cringe. Why should I have such butterflies for someone who has no remorse for his actions. She angrily thought. Why did these feeling come back after 9 years of hell. The single name changed her so quickly it not even being in the presents of an old flame. No matter I can control these feeling unlike any other feelings. She could control her happy side. The nurse opens the door and enters in first. "Dr. Haste? This is Ms. Lilith Blackwell. She was next in line." The nurse bows her head and heads to the door. "I will keep the others at bay." She closes the door and walks out. Out of all the millions of people in London and the nations. It had to be him the one she wanted nothing to do with. Well as she thought.

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