|| The Asylum || Official RP Thread


|| The Asylum || Official RP Thread

It’s the year 1965.

You have been sent off to the infamous Edgeworth Asylum located in New England.
Housed from Psychopaths to Unfaithful Priests, but what role will you be given?
With demonic spirits slowly corrupting each and every single member, will you make it till the end?
Only darkness and time will tell.

Rules : Of the rp, these can be broken as they are only for rp purposes.

  1. Awaken from your slumber when we tell you to.
  2. No unlawful doings.
  3. Listen to the priests at all time.
  4. Visitors get respected.
  5. Do not attempt to escape.

Actual Rules :

  1. No discrimination.
  2. No drama outside of the rp.
  3. No controlling other people’s characters without permission.
  4. Make sure to be active.

This is a series idea based primarily on American Horror story.

I will sometimes let a person participate in this rp after the sign-ups are closed.
I will announce it into the rp when this would occur.

| Roles |

The Priests

The Nuns

The Visitors

The Patients

The Journalist

Tags : @C_ssie @Lady_Cannella @HermanEpisode @Ella @lanasgalasoul @mage158 @Coolepisodes @jdepisode @CrazyCaliope

Faceclaims : https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1RSsVa2eaJ4A7Pm7-vipUVysRNo4nJGy7hmNYBBcw0Io/edit?usp=sharing

| The Asylum Sign-Up |

~ Benjamin Killian - Patient ~ (Approachable)
Benjamin’s eyes noticed each and every crack on the ceiling. He counted each one before he went to sleep and soon after he woke up as a form of entertainment that would surely keep him sane. 20 cracks, there were 20 cracks engraved into the ceiling today, some so tiny you would have to squint and others large it would be considered a hazard. Not at Edgeworth though, they couldn’t give a damn about their mistreated patients even if God were to command them. He shook his head before staring at the door, waiting for the warden to tell them to get up.


Bertha Day

She looked at the white cracked wall, and closed her eyes… dreaming of sitting in the flowers… and singing in the summer, but that wouldn’t happen. Bertha opened her eyes, and got up… her bare feet touched the cold floor, and she was going to scream in annoyance, but she couldn’t. Everything was the same.

Bertha looked at the door, it’s paint was almost gone, and the floor was gray… and paint was scratchy, it was old… and just… gross, and that’s how she lived.

She sat down on the same bed, the same bed she usually sat… and prayed to god that she’ll get out, but she would never get out… after what she did, killing someone, and being paranoid… all her life.



Claudia Bacardi
Tap. Tap. Tap.

Claudia’s leg bounced up and down repeatedly. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been awake. She couldn’t tell how long it would take for her to escape the discomforts of her white-walled prison. No, not a prison. A room. My room. My… home.

Claudia frowned. She hated this place. She hated everything about it. The priests, the doctors, the nuns, everything. Well, except the patients. The others were alright, atleast some of them were. Some were just as bubbly as she was - not in this exact moment - and she had made many new friends. The rest, though, weren’t at all like her. Quiet, reserved. She figured it was because they hated this place and were silently plotting something terrible, but it was just the ignorance talking.

Claudia looked back up at the door and another groan escaped her lips. She didn’t hear any footsteps stomping down the hall or any shouts from the annoying wardens. She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t leaving her room anytime soon.



Beau Petrovich

He’ll be back for me, I’m sure. I’ll be out of here in due time. He needs me. He will be back. He thought as he stared at the cold wall his bed was up against. He kicked the wall lightly before turning over onto his back. He was waiting for the warden to let him out of his room. I’m so hungry. Hurry up. He thought as he sat up.

His legs swung over the side of the bed before he stood, the cold floor making contact with his feet. He walked to the door as if it would open with his movement. He put his hands on it and pushed it a bit, wanting to push it open. He huffed a sigh before leaning against the door. Sliding down into a sitting position, he groaned.





Amelia Esmeralda Sognante

1 toll, 1 toll of the clock and her eyes were wide open.
The clock wasn’t her property but Amelia got the luck of having her room right in front of the big old grandfather clock that stood lonely in the hallway.
Another toll, she turned her head left on that yellowish and uncomfortable pillow. A ray of sunshine was entering from the narrow, barred window, little corpuscoles of dust were dancing and doing backflips in the light while she stared at it. “Another beautiful day” she thought “and I’ll miss it again”.
She sat on the bed and started doing her ritual morning yoga, it was her necessity to keep her mind sane and keep her from hearing their voices, no, not their voices, their screams, they haunted her…
Groooan, her stomach started aching, she was hungry, she started listening to the noises outside the door, it wouldn’t have taken so long before they would have arrived to tell her to get up…