A high brick wall seals off the Asylum fromt he rest of the world. It is said that the screams of a thousand lost souls could be heard if you were to pass by at night. It's the end of the line for many, a mere resting place for a select few. Very few have ever made it out of there. It has an isolated feel, even though a great many patients are locked away inside the walls. Very few people that see the inside of that stark white building come out again. Now I'm sure you, as the reader, are thinking that some sinister acts are being performed here but I tell you now, that is not the case. No this is merely a high security Mental Institute and Rehabilitation Center. I ask you to come with me, through the wrought iron gates bound in chains to the heavily guarded front doors of what is known only as 'The Asylum'. ~ For whatever reason, you were brought here. Now you're trapped in the place. you could be normal, like a great many of the people here. or you could be in possession of abilities, abilities like no other. Whatever the reason, you're here now and you can't get out. You can await your full sentence or you can try and bust out. (if you do, please wait a while, its no fun for the others if you break out instantly) Bare in mind that this is a high security institution so you can't just walk out the front doors or buts a window. Everything is secure. you'll have to be awfully creative. ~~ Character - Iris: Androphobia Iris shuffled uncomfortably into the recreation room, a tray of food in her hands that resembled grey lumps of cement. A guy about her age brushed past her and she cringed away, her heartrate quickening as she moved, desperate to escape. Oh how she would love to be away from them all, to be safe in her cell. But they insisted on her spending 'recreational time'. She hated it. It was awful. Why couldn't they just leave her alone? Wasn't it a GOOD thing she wanted to hide away from everyone? Vibrant blue eyes stared out from dark sockets as she studied everyone, pale almost translucent skin clungs to her thin frame like a skeleton. Her dark brown hair hung limply around her face. She used to be a pretty girl, and with a little more care she would be again. She tugged the sleeves of her ashen grey hoodie over her hands, adjusting the black skinnies that only just sia on her hips. Her nails were short and rough, chewed down as much as possible as a result of numerous breakdowns. There was a hardness to her gaze that made people wonder just what the girl had gone through before and was willing to do to get through the hardships she faced. She was frightened but she tried to cover it up by keeping her face passive as she headed for the corner of the room.