Casting Shadows

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Bamb00Stix, Aug 28, 2014.

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  1. Casting Shadows

    The setting of this little thread is that you are on a small island. This small islands houses mental health patients, convicts, drug dealers, experiments, and among many of the other less perfect people who had been considered Citizens of of the countries Sashin and Listyria once upon a time. The island is set like so: A castle where the Duke of the island lives, giving jobs to many of the people living there: Is to the North of the Island, facing out to sea on all sides, with the East side which looks towards a cliff of Sashin's second district. There are coasts all around, the farm land is in the center of the island where the market booms. (All sorts of trades go in and from here.)

    To the South of the Island there are docks, where air-ships and normal ships come and go with cargo, and passengers. It is not hard to leave the Island, after-all, the worst they'll do is use your organs up if they catch you. There is a lot of vegetation, mostly in the form of bushes, and ground-sown crops.

    Now are you ready for the yummiest part of all, of our little set-up? Time for the plot! Besides war out on the seas and the main-land; there is a civil disagreement on the island. The Duke may not actually exist, at all, and people on the island have been disappearing monthly. One or two at first, but now the toll has become five or more. There are many roles to pick from, and so dear friends, let's let our minds go wild.

    Not all characters have to be in the same place, and hell, you can have as many as you can keep up with.


    Sitting at his desk, Aadun overlooked the paperwork needed to be done. It was too much, and already he had done over half of the stack. Pen in his left hand, the scruffy brunette rubbed his face, pushing his glasses up towards his forward. A groan came from him, "No, no. I did NOT study for this!" He threw his pen down to the desk, which fell not too far from him and a puddle of ink was flowing onto his desk. He pushed his gangly frame up, and away from the desk, letting his head hang (and glasses) between his arms as he stretched in his awkward position. Straightening his back, he popped it pushing his hips in with his hands, before snatching the pen up and placing it in a pot. Not proper, but Aadun didn't exactly quite care at this moment. In fact, if anything, he missed his typewriter.

    He ran a hand through his soft, brown hair; having bathed just the other night and already wanting another. No. He decided he needed to go to bed. His study was dark, really more of a small room off in the back of the library of the large building he helped occupy, and the light that lit up the room came from several candles. He was glad he had not been sent to Sashin, though disliked being stationed on an island off the main-land. 'Better than dealing with that knut of a general,' he griped to himself as he adjusted his brown-suspenders. His clothing was creased, but in far better shape than over half of the rest of the Island's population. Then again, it was also dusty from staying in-doors all of the damn time.

    He grabbed his jacket from the back of his plumped chair, far too lush for his tastes. But those did not quite matter, now did they? Nope, he had to deal with paperwork. Upon paperwork, and this was after he had gotten back from a "crusade" with the General of Lysteria. Which, if anyone bothered to ask Aadun about (and if he ever bothered to tell anyone); he'd tell them that it was just a simple running around for a good year and a half in land filled with nothing but animals, water-things, and idiotic trolls, and a retarded General sending them in circles.

    This was his "promotion" from college, to this. Dealing with the disgusting paperwork of crazies. He had a drink in his hand at this point, and had already passed through the library at a leisurely pace. He was now in a hallway, and instead of going to his bedroom, his feet had taken him to the entrance where the sun came in, blindingly. There were not enough windows in that place, but even then, he was almost thankful for the protection of the onslaught of the sun. He drank his water, looking out to the center of the island which was less than a fifth of a mile away. Cows were mooing, sheeps bleating, and there was even three pigs out there walking towards the coastlines, which came in closely. He cheered to no one in particular and downed his glass.
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  2. "Mm..." Ever raised her head for the first time, beautiful blue eyes glancing around at the paintings hung up in her room. She gazed at each one individually, admiring the different colors and rhythm of the paintbrushes moving across the canvas', but feeling completely indifferent that she couldn't even let out a word from her mouth. All her words were held inside her mind, her thoughts, her opinions. At least, that's the way it was now. Ever was a new patient at this island, unable to communicate evenly with others because of severe trauma that happened within the last week. Her shoulder length brown hair was held up in a messy bun, many strands falling out from the side of her face and on the back of her neck. She didn't care about making deep ties with anyone, anymore. She was done.

    Her emotional connection was weak, her depression was high. Often times, she would just sit on the edge of her bed, tears streaming down her face, fluid dripping out of her nose and running slowly down her lips. She could cry for days if she had it in her, but that would only worsen the situation she'd suddenly been pulled into. In an effort to get her mind off of her previous trauma, one day, she had decided to explore a little bit. However, she steered clear of large crowds, didn't bother to say excuse me when she accidentally bumped into someone, and had no heart to say hello to anyone around her. Until now, a few days later, she had continued to have excessive frightening images and thoughts of that night.

    Ever believed it would haunt her forever, and so far, the memories haven't been pushed towards the recesses of her mind. It stuck like glue to paper, just waiting for her next choice of color to be smacked down onto the sheet.
  3. Aadun hadn't much reason to stay outside, but then, he felt like his brain was molding from being inside too much. Strange. It must be because he had been too obsessed with previous affairs that had been long-since over with. He sighed and walked back inside anyway, setting the glass on the nearest end table. He caught one of the few women who worked paperwork as well, "Are the doctors in this week, or are they still off on some trip?" The girl shrugged, and it pissed him off. He leaned one hand against the wallpapered, neutral colored wall, rubbing his nose again while pushing his glasses up. He righted himself, shook himself up a bit and walked into the Dr. Trumps's room (just a bit of the way ahead up the stairs and to the left). He grabbed the mans patient's files, and recognized that he hadn't updated it as over half of his patients (which was very much the weight of an encyclopedia) had left the island by way of smugglers. Or so Aadun assumed.

    He took the some pen, and ink, opened a briefcase and placed everything in there, making sure the ink and pen would not be smashed by the heavy book of files. He made his way down the stairs, a hand holding his brief-case, the other on the railing and went out the door where he had gotten a viewing of the island. It was small, and yet housed nearly twice of what could accommodate it. He almost was relieved about the smugglers' who brought extra goods, but he still did not enjoy having them around. He ignored the few who recognized him and greeted him, and he finally near a large house; almost like a brothel but it was now changed to patient housing. In he went, set his burrowed briefcase on the table, rummaged through it to find files pertaining to this certain housing unit, and walked to the lad at the front-desk. "Yes, I want to know who still resides here." The boy looked up, looked at the paper, went back to sucking his lollipop before leafing through a book at Aadun's stoney glare. He looked through it quicker than the boy, even walking around to turn the book towards him. He began to crumple paper after paper, the boy didn't care.

    Aadun finally managed to get it down to about fifteen-something patients. When was the last time any of the Dr.'s came out to the patients? It had been over a week at this point, and he felt like the only person keeping this damned island running. "You got coffee, boy?" The boy shook his head, of course not. Coffee was too refined for most of the housing units here. Sometimes the bar had it. He shook his head, grabbed his briefcase after making sure it was arranged properly, kept the papers in his free hand and went to the first patient's room. He knocked twice before opening the door. "As Dr. Trumps is out, I'll be handling his affairs for today." He shut the door behind him and looked around, it could be darker but then, he figured he needed the light as much as he disliked it. "I am Aadun, and you are..?" It was a girl, sitting on her bed with puffy eyes, and messy hair in a bun. Wonderful. How had she managed to wind herself here? Was she from the poorest district, maybe she was part of the fourth district and got demoted when her parents died? He looked at her page, which was pretty empty. Not even history had been filled out. This was going to be a long day.

    "Heyyy! This ain't what I wanted! What's ya girls bein' up to, huh? Gettin' my order all wrong when they see meh everyday!" A scruffed man was complaining from his table, towards the bar-owner. Anquin walked over, taking her time and picking up dirty, unfinished glasses from empty seats, placing them on her tray. She placed a hand on her multi-skirted hip, and stood before him as she set the glasses down in front of him.

    "Or I can be giving ya these, sir. So either take what you got, or drink from the left-overs. We don't like handling trash," this made his mate guffaw and slap his knee, a few others chuckled. But most could not hear over the live band playing, and the loud talking of others. The bar ran at all hours of the day, and often stayed open late at night. It made much money this way, and was a hot-spot for smugglers to be going in and out of. The dark-skinned woman rustled her long, wavy hair and flicked her eyes to the door on her way back. The troublesome customer knew better than to speak up against her. After she had taken over the joint, it wasn't long until she earned massive respect from most of the islanders. Afterall, how could one argue when if someone picked a bone with this woman and didn't return? She adjusted her corset, and tapped the bar's wooden counter-top. It was a slow day indeed.
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  4. Ever, a girl of only 16 years old, glanced up as an unfamiliar voice resounded through the room. Dr. Trumps was out, and now she had been given a new Doctor? Was he temporarily here, or was he a permanent Doctor for her? She tilted her head ever so slightly, appraising the man with brown locks. Her mouth moved slightly, making it seem like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the strength to do so. Ever's eyes traveled to the ground at his question, beginning to assess the ground instead. She hadn't asked for company, especially not from someone she had only just met. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she shied away from Aadun, pulling her legs close to her chest and laying her head on her kneecaps.

    Ever's face stared off into space, looking at the headboard instead of her current doctor. Ever had only ever been comfortable with talking to Dr. Trumps, even if it wasn't long. She loved how he could relate to her in many ways and understand what she'd been through. His words of encouragement and at least with her, the calming personality, made her feel calm too. She wasn't about to accept change with another doctor. Her face buried deeper into her legs, almost making it look as if she was staring down at her lower area. Ever blinked away the water that suddenly began to form in her eyes from staring at one point for too long. A soft sigh emitted from her as she looked up a little, shaking in the voice as she quietly spoke her name.

  5. He didn't see anywhere to sit at first, but there was a few chairs he could spot, two to be exact and one was next to a low table. He set his briefcase down, opened it, and pulled it out his bottle of ink and pen. His own posture was more relaxed, and she had said nothing. "Ever," which caused him to glance at her paper. Her name. He gave a small smile, and nodded his head.

    "I am Aadun. Your doctor had his last appointment with you over a week ago, right?" He read through what he could, seeing that she was struggling with anxiety, depression. He frowned at the paper, and reclined in his chair, laying one arm over the chair's arm and his other in his lap. "He has not been on the island for quite some time. He left a while ago without any return date. So," he became at a loss for words. He was to be a lawyer, not some kind of doctor. He looked to the paintings, which had vibrant colors of art. "Are any of these done before you got here?" The man brushed his hair away from his face, pulling it up to tie it in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. Start easy, and work yourself forward, he told himself. He breathed out of his nose a bit heavily from holding his breath for so long. He almost had the nerve of telling her about how many papers he had to throw out, but then he probably had even more. All of these people have seen one of the dr's at one point, except for those who worked at the Duke's home.
  6. She barely nodded, but at least that was a sign that she had been listening to him so far, despite not having the courage to move her mouth and let a sentence spill out. As she further listened to Aadun, she found herself raising her head, turning it to glance over at him, eyebrows raised slightly in concern because the brown-haired man was speaking for Dr. Trumps. Why would he leave without saying anything to me about it? She pursed her lips slightly in thought, then turned away with a sigh, depressed once more. "Yes..." she responded once more. "Most were." Ever circled her finger around the blank white sheets. If he wanted to be a doctor, he should've taken up another patient, not her. He would never understand what she was going through.
  7. Ah, so she had been an artist. Well, Aadun set the paperwork aside, holding onto the pen still. As he sat quietly, unsure of himself for a moment, he then pulled the paper back into his lap. It was comfortable, and held the pen poised, though no ink had been placed on it. "Ah, I see. I've seen paintings in the halls, and rooms of assembly." What did a doctor ask? He looked to the sheet, seeing if he could read any notes. It seemed they talked about to an extent before she came here, why she was sent here. He ran his free hand through his bangs, which fell back into place on either side of his face. "So, I see here that Dr. Trumps and you talked about where you come from? Could I be privy to that information?" He adjusted his glasses next, and blinked at her, and watched for any body language.

    He felt uncomfortable, and had no excuse for coming out to see the doctor's patients. Well, he did have one but it was not a very good one: He had grown bored doing paperwork all day. He dwelled on that. When had he ever been bored before? Not very often, but here, he didn't even have a vast library of books to go about. Despite the Duke's home being one of the largest buildings on the island, it had not been installed with a library. What a shame. One of the many offices, or personal rooms (or three) could have been sacrificed for a library. He was considering on petitioning for one at this point. He needed it if he was going to be able to keep sane at all. People. No, he wanted and needed his books.
  8. "They're not mine, if that's what you're wondering," Ever responded in a monotone voice. She wasn't the least amused by him. He seemed completely inexperienced in this job. Was he new? It looked like he didn't have proper training. Laying down on the bed, Ever pulled all the blanket and sheets close to her body. It was comfortable that way. She moved a little, the edge of the blanket right up to her chin. "Listyria." Her voice had faded. What more could he want out of her when he could hardly present himself in a composed manner? She looked down at the blanket, a frown etched onto her face. "Where is he?" she asked, referring to Dr. Trumps. At least the location would be alright, considering he had left without word.
  9. ((Eee! Sorry about the very late reply, darling dear. I had went without internet for just nearly a week! No funs, well, here I am!))

    "They're not mine, if that's what you're wondering," oh. Well that cut-short all non-existent rambling about that. Good, Aadun nodded to himself. Then she answered another question, "Listyria." Great! So they had the same homeland! What could he talk about that topic? Well, he could speak about his father, who happened to work for the magistrate, but then that would not interest her much. She did not interest him much. It seemed they were on the same side of a coin. "Where is he?" broke his train of thought, which wasn't very interesting even to him, really.

    "Well Dr. Trump has taken an unexpected vacation with some of his colleagues. They did not leave any notes as to where they had gone, or how long they will be." Aadun stood to adjust his collar, and coughed, clearing his throat. He eyed her curling up within the blankets, hiding all but her hair it seemed which was coming undone. He tapped his chin, sitting himself back down. "What did Dr. Trumps ask you about?" Otherwise, Aadun was due for a ramble about the laws.
  10. ((Oh, it's no problem. I was doused in a lot of homework during the week, so you're forgiven.))

    The new information about Dr. Trumps caused Ever's face to behold a dejected expression. She wanted to say something, but there wasn't much to say if Dr. Trumps hadn't shared a location. She looked as if she was about to cry because of it. He doesn't care about me anymore... Ever thought miserably, stuffing her face inside her pillow, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. Aadun's question released her from her cage, face turning over halfway to stare at him and blink a few times in frustration. "..." Ever did not speak. She did not want to talk with him about the things she had told Dr. Trumps, believing he was only seeking personal information about her past. Ever's eyes were downcast, thinking about what she had to speak of last week.

    Many things, but not too much...
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