Welcome to Hailsham | District Four

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Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 9, 2018 16:11:40 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Mar 9, 2018 16:11:40 GMT -5

THE HAILSHAM INSTITUTE

They called it the Hailsham Institute, and it was given many titles: orphanage, training academy, boarding school, the list went on. Its remote location made it a hotspot for sinister rumors, and teen couples were known for stealing their parents’ fishing boats to take a quick peek at the mystery-shrouded islet.

The children themselves had legends and stories of what happened to those who dared to climb over the institute’s wrought iron fences, or separate themselves from the group during Capitol-official events such as the reaping. No one ever caught sight of the children wandering around outside of Hailsham’s boundaries, and there never seemed to be much traffic to and from the islet.

It is said that they only take newborns, and that all of their pupils must be in perfect health. Meaning any child who lives in Hailsham has never known anything other than the weirdly-idyllic institute.

On the surface, perhaps, Hailsham could have been considered an enviable place to end up, with their top notch facilities and training equipment, and their invitation-only pupils and staff. Those who weren’t completely terrified of the place couldn’t deny the slight irritation in their stomachs that, in another universe, they could’ve ended up with much better lives. Three meals a day, a comfortable bed, clean clothes- it was more than what most had, but those people had no idea just how tragic the fate of Hailsham children truly was.

Adoptions were rare, and the process hardly made any sense to the children. None of them ever recalled meeting a couple looking to take in a child, or even meeting someone who did not live on the island. They were told it was simply a closed adoption, that couples would look at spreadsheets and statistics about the children and choose them based purely on performance. This, of course, made everyone strive to be the best students and careers they could be.

As the children grew older, they learned the truth.

Healthcare in the districts is known to be flawed, if present at all. Should a person require something as serious as an organ donation, or a blood transfusion, they were as good as dead. But wealth wins wars, and money has its way of evading things set in stone.

These children, raised like prized pigs, would all one day be slaughtered. No, the terms they used were much more clinical. Perhaps it was their way of trying to sooth the children’s minds. "You have been selected for a harvest," they would say. Or, in the most dire of circumstances, "Your release date has been scheduled!"

They learned that the wealthy, with their money and power, paid the impoverished to have babies they could not raise, convinced them that Hailsham was their child’s best chance for a good life. And then, when their lavish lifestyles came back to bite them and they needed a liver, or new lungs, or a new heart, or their children needed marrow or blood, they had an endless supply of healthy bodies no one would miss to harvest from. Those children who were adopted were not adopted at all, but were harvested, or developed illnesses that deemed them no longer worthy of the program. Those scary stories they had been told in regards to trying to leave the island were threats made to cattle those who dared find a weak spot in the pasture fence.

The most any of them could do was hope their grades and performance ranked them highly enough that they could become carers, medical semi-professionals who aided paid-off doctors during harvest sessions. Though carers would still eventually have to be harvested themselves, becoming a carer delayed the inevitable for at least a couple of years.

The choosing ceremony happens at age 18, and our story begins with the 17 year old age group, fighting more now than ever before for an ultimately futile attempt at survival.

TL;DR
the wealthy have a super off-record institution where small children are raised in a very healthy lifestyle and then used as unwilling organ donors. A lucky select few are chosen each year to become carers, which essentially means they get to prolong harvesting their own organs in exchange for helping the medical professionals harvest the organs of those not selected. No one off the island knows about this, and to the public eye, Hailsham is thought to be a boarding school/training center for orphans.

CLARIFICATIONS / RULES:
- The public does not know about the harvesting program
- Characters can die in this plot
- This plot is application only
- WIP applications will not be accepted/reviewed until they are completed
- Name changes are welcome, so long as they have been pre-approved
- All names must be four letters long
- For continuity sake, everyone’s last name will be Hailsham
- Once accepted as a character, writers will have 1 month to finish their bio, unless given an extension
- Please say what your favorite flower is in the “anything else” portion of the application
- Once/if all characters are given out, I will consider taking Applicants for original characters!
- This plot is based on the novel & film, Never Let Me Go

C H A R A C T E R S —

ROSE, female; LINK
You were nine, playfully humming along to the sounds an old jukebox as you played with your toys. Some of the other children were playing tag. Some of them constructed paper airplanes, held contests as to whose worked the best.

The humming turned into singing: quiet at first, then louder. Your eyes squeezed shut as the words fell from delicately parted lips, your head swaying to and fro in rhythm with the song. When it ended, your eyes opened to find the world around you stuck on pause. The other kids stared at you with wonder for a long moment, and you felt your cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment before they all began to clap.

Looking back on that day now, you cannot believe your growth. A pillar of confidence, perhaps closer to your music than you are to the other orphans. Once per week, everyone gathers in the recreation hall and watches you climb onto the stage in your prettiest dress, and then you sing. You like the taste of glory, love the feeling of attention. Maybe it makes you a narcissist. That’s what Kyle says, anyway, but you have a feeling his words are a way of covering up his true feelings, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the same feelings for him lurking just beneath the surface.

— PLAYED BY: ALEXXX

ROAN, male; LINK
A world of gray and a boy made to view the world through pictures in books. You were content with letting your mind doing all the wandering, extending your dizziest daydreams out from your fingertips, past a paintbrush, and onto a canvas.

You were actually painting when you had your first real conversation with Jane. You’d talked before- of course you had; your social engagements were limited. But this one felt different. Real. And though you still wouldn’t exactly call your feelings for Jane romantic, nor would you expect her to call her feelings for you romantic should she ever stop for a second and think, it was nice to have someone.

“You paint like a dreamer,” she had said, and she was right, but that was all you were. Perhaps she confused you for an adventurer, or maybe she just had the idea of turning you into one. Unfortunately for her, you remain one of few who are happy to follow the rules of the institution, despite years of attempts. You feel secure when following orders- it is one of the few things that give your existence meaning. Still, Jane is a good friend, and you can’t exactly standby and watch while she does something crazy. So, against your better judgement, you always find yourself a few steps behind her, begging her to turn back.

So far, neither of you will budge, but you worry about the day you turn back and she keeps walking forward.

— PLAYED BY: KOUSEI

JANE, female; LINK
It seemed a waste, living so close to the beach but never getting to see it, and you’ve always been one for making reckless decisions. You sat near the fence everyday for years, listening to the sounds of waves crashing into the shore. Just out of sight, so close you could smell the salt, practically feel the bubbles of sea foam lapping at your feet.

You waited until you were 14, not because you wanted to, but because you were afraid of going alone and Will was not easily convinced.

Just before the sun was set to rise, the two of you joined hands as you crept down the empty hallways, past Sir, who would have likely been fired if Mother ever found out he was sleeping on the job, and over the fence. The salt stung against your dancer’s feet, blisters from ballet, but it was such an oddly satisfying burn. If anything, it served as a reminder of how new and exciting this all was.

The hand holding was something of an instinct- careless dancer Jane leaping in head first, while a cautious Will tried his best to cushion the fall. But you hadn’t ever noticed how nice the artist’s hand felt in yours until that moment, just the two of you and a great, big, unexplored world in front of you.

If only for that moment, you felt truly safe.

— PLAYED BY: TRIS

RAJA, male; LINK
You’ve always been the golden boy, in a way. You learned early on that your grades wouldn’t ever be as great as Gwen’s, and if you were ever going to be adopted, it would have to be based on the natural gift of physical prowess you had been given at birth. They always said it would be you or Gwen to go first, and after a while, your confidence got in the way of your better judgement. You became angry as the years went on, unable to understand why someone wouldn’t want you when your accomplishments within Hailsham rivaled the best of those in the institution’s History.

You’ve broken records and set the standard for what a career should be, and in the end, you’ve learned that it was all for nothing. You are simply a stronger bag of organs than your peers. If anything, you worry, it’ll mean having your first harvest sooner than the rest.

Anger issues and a few too many bridges burned with the children you’ve grown up with, you feel all alone in the world, pardon Rose, and you don’t even think you feel close enough to her to call her a friend. So you sit alone, picking shards of a broken mirror from your knuckles, staring at the now shattered reflection that stares back at you. Yours life has been a lie, and you hate that you seem to be the only one who cannot accept it.

— PLAYED BY: ELEGANT

GWEN, female; LINK
You like to keep your hair short- seems more practical. You’d love to be like Rose, and fuss over yourself in the mirror, or like Bell, who thinks beauty is what makes a person special, but you never have been interested in that kind of thing. It always seemed a bit juvenile to you, the idea of vanity, and frankly, it always felt more like a distraction from the things that really mattered.

You still remember the moment when you realized you were different. You couldn’t have been more than twelve, fingers laced together as you sat in the front row of the class. Same story, different day, except when the teacher handed you back your paper and you saw a big red B written near the top, you realized it hadn’t ever happened before.

As if to verify your shock, one of the other kids gasped when they saw it, whispered about it to the others. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, because they had all gotten B’s before, too, so why did it matter if you did? After class, Bell found you in the courtyard, long and pretty hair swaying behind her.

“Heard you got a B today,” she spat in her typical holier-than-thou tone of voice, “Guess you’re not so perfect after all, huh?”

Angry, you stood, tossing your book to the side and looking her in the eye: “What’s that supposed to mean?” you growled. She smirked in reply. “Like you didn’t already know that you run circles around everyone here.” She exhaled for a moment, before adding, “Well, most of them, anyway,” and walking away.

You didn’t know if you should smile or toss something at her head, but you never forgot that day. And you never got another B.

— PLAYED BY: ZOE

WADE, male; LINK
You’re just Wade. Jack of all trades, master of none, you’ve spent your life blending in to the background, existing without making any waves. But you are still human and you still have secrets- smiling at Jane as she passes you in the training rooms, that kiss you shared with Luke a few years ago, and then there is the one thing you won’t even admit to yourself.

They’ve started noticing some of the changes, but they haven’t placed the pieces together yet: “Are you feeling well? You’ve been slacking in your training lately,” the nurse asked. There was also an occasion when Mother caught you by the shoulder between classes, spun you around and placed her hand on your forehead: “You look pale. Feeling well?”

It’s only a matter of time before they find out you’re sick and you disappear. It’s scary, not knowing if it is something simple, something that could easily be fixed if you were rich, or at least normal. But you know whatever it is, it’s a death sentence in this place.

It is a good thing you’ve spent your life blending in. Who would have thought that being nothing special could one day be your saving grace?

— PLAYED BY: DARS

JUNO, nonbinary; LINK
When it comes to you, Anne of Hailsham, none of the other orphans are met with quite the level of respect given to you. Memories from the deepest recesses of your mind, you can recall being a voice people liked listening to. You speak no nonsense, stand in a way that makes people notice you, exude an air that lets others know you and yours are not to be trifled with.

Sure, you have a habit of digging into other people’s business, and you would much rather deal with other people’s problems than admit that you have some of your own, but it all comes from a place within you that simply cares too much. You feel almost like an appointed maternal figure to the others in some senses, except you haven’t ever been the type to nurture. Hard love is better than nothing, the way you see it.

You do have other interests, though. Once, when the institution had one of their gift sales, you managed to get you hands on a camera, and now your walls are lined with pictures of you and the other orphans. Your favorite one is of everyone in your year standing in a line by the front gate. That was the winter when it snowed. Didn’t seem like much at the time, but you smile every time you look back on that day. Odd, how the simplest of things can ultimately mean the most to a person.

— PLAYED BY: RAVE

BECK, male; LINK
You tried. There was a time in your life when you really, honestly tried. You trained with the others, raised your hand when you knew answers in class: anything to gain attention. Because, like all of your peers, you closed your eyes at night and dreamed that you had a mother to tuck you in, a sibling to walk to school with, a father to play catch with in the front yard.

Take away a boy’s dreams, though, and you’ve taken away his will to live.

It seems like a difficult feat, being a burnout in a place designed to produce perfection, but you’ve managed. Getting on with delivery men so that they would sneak you in things like cigarettes and alcohol: you’ve made a name for yourself among the orphans as the rebel without a cause. You’ve become a boy with nothing to live for and everything to gain. And that may make you hopeless. It may mean you’ve given up.

You think your acceptance makes you strong, too, though.

— PLAYED BY: NYTE

BELL, female; LINK
Bell: what a fine name it has turned out to be. You walk the halls of Hailsham with your head held high, your shoulders back, and a plethora of secrets in your back pocket. You identified your flaws at a young age, used them to your advantage. Weaknesses can be strengths when a person’s social game is as strong as yours, and you’ve got adaptability in spades.

You are not the quickest runner, nor the best swordsman or scholar. But you have ten fingers, each with one of the other orphans carefully wrapped around it like flashy jewelry. You know how to work each of them, tell them what they want to hear when you need them, tell them what they fear when you don’t need them.

You smile at yourself in the mirror, cover up the insecurities you secretly harbor with a porcelain mask, and a deep shade of red lipstick. You may be lonely, this is true, but isn’t that always the case for the person on top? You’ve made it your home, dug your heels into the backs of everyone to ensure your own social survival. They call you a monster— you prefer queen.

— PLAYED BY: KARI

LUKE, male; LINK
Oh, the perks of being the funny one in the room. Keep it light: that’s always been your motto, and people have come to expect you to do nothing less. You do like the attention, in a way, and you like making the others happy, but the issue comes in when you want to feel anything else: pain, fear, all the darker things that make a whole person. People don’t understand that you, like the rest of them, harbor these emotions and need an outlet for them.

You only feel wanted when you are in the mood to please, for the most part, and it isn’t that you are a sad person: you aren’t. You simply crave a form of validation of which you have been deprived. But, for the most part, you are content with pouring happiness out of yourself for others to take, even if it feels like the favor isn’t reciprocated at times.

Besides, it isn’t like that with everyone. Wade made the mistake of being a sensitive person, and one day he asked if you were okay and your problems began to pour out. To this day, they haven’t ever quite stopped. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and you make sure not to overload him with the drama of your daily life.

— PLAYED BY: GRIFFIN

ORIGINALS:

LIAM - sixteen, male, played by flyss [ LINK ]

COLE - sixteen, male, played by tom [ LINK ]

UNFINISHED:

THEO - sixteen, female, played by arx

NEWT - sixteen, male, played by kaplan

YARA - sixteen, female, played by lance

NOVA - sixteen, female, played by ali

NPCs:
Mother - headmistress, old, intimidating, cold and dutiful.

Sir - keeper of grounds, head of security, very dumb but influential.

Mrs. Sue - caretaker whose first year was with the 17’s. Like most caretakers, she didn’t know at first what went on within Hailsham, and she had many questions. Ultimately, she was threatened to be fired before she learned to keep quiet.

Mr. Frank - a caretaker who is being held on the island against his will, after he learned the truth of Hailsham’s intent and threatened to tell the public.

Deb and Dan - the two subjects of a legend within the institute that is told to the younger orphans so that they don’t try to leave Hailsham. Supposedly, Dan jumped the fence and went missing, and they found him dead. But, before they found him, his good friend, Deb hopped the fence to find him. When she learned of her friend’s passing, she tried to return to Hailsham and was apparently not allowed back inside, so she starved to death.

A P P L I C A T I O N —

[b]NAME/ALIAS:[/b] [b]CHARACTER WANTED:[/b] [b]HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:[/b] at least two five-sentence paragraphs, please! [b]HEADCANONS/PLOTS:[/b] any plot ideas or cute facts about the character can go here! [b]ANYTHING ELSE:[/b] If you’ve made playlists/tables/graphics/anything you can post them here, though it is NOT mandatory and will not affect whether or not you get a character if you choose not to make anything. Be sure to read the rules.

O . C . A P P L I C A T I O N —

[b]NAME/ALIAS:[/b] [b]CHARACTER’S NAME:[/b] (four letters) [b]HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:[/b] at least two five-sentence paragraphs please! [b]ANYTHING ELSE:[/b] playlists/tables/graphics/etc goes here if you’ve made it. Be sure to read the rules!

Some reminders of original characters: they are each 16 years old, and the grade below the other characters. They will know the other age group since they’ve grown up together, but they would be closer to the other original characters. I would suggest messaging other applicants for plot ideas!

Granted extensions:
Rave: new due date, April 19th
Tom: new due date, April 26th
Elegant: new due date, April 26th
Nyte: new due date, April 13th

Last Edit: Jun 20, 2018 19:46:03 GMT -5 by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

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Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 9, 2018 16:54:09 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2018 16:54:09 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: Rave / Rave
CHARACTER WANTED: Anne -- renamed to Juno

HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:
Self imposed role model, a mother's lullaby, hot needles and library wilderness, reckless two a.m. acts and headstrong by the morning, regrets, swallowing doubt in the taste of cough syrup, "are you stupid," pocketed cigarettes and open upstair windows, poke tattoo's and licorice ants, somebody who's never given up, the fear of failure, killing loving, bathroom hair salons, a core only death could change, a stare only death could kill

Juno is a headstrong libra bitch, basically. They've always been something unbreakable, faking purpose in a place only weeds could grow. Even as kids, Juno's always fancied themself the strong suit, taking pride in picking scabs and pretending the blood didn't freak them out. A permanent inhale, taking vulnerability in strides; performative armor, enough forced pressure to catch herself. They didn't have worries as kids, just ghost stories -- just classes and diets and no adults. Almost Edenic, making things difficult before they even had to be.

Pretending to be the house's spine became therapeutic, in a sense where Beck or Wade or Jane's problems made Juno's seem else where. Something less important, the lines between cementing as performative became habitual -- what's one kid to do? Juno pockets her problems, somewhere beneath bedroom floor boards or bathroom tiles; stolen two-times-over cigarettes, home made tattoo kits, skin stitching. Burning and staining a body that won't be their's forever- rebellion in the sake of marking Juno's own skin.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS: aight SO, numero uno Juno does stick-n-poke tattoo's in the second floor bathroom, so jot that down.

I wanted Anne to be more of a self martyr, so with Juno they're very interpersonal, focusing on bettering the people around them rather than themself. After seventeen years of being everybody's squad mother, they are very inequipped to taking care of their own self, which is a problem considering this bitch gonna be dissected soon. A lot of the way they've learned to express themself is through photography and tattooing, because it's an upfront way to show off emotions. No words, no hidden meanings, just an image. Complexities are saved for other people, not Juno.

So much of their personality is taking care of others, they're basically a carer-intern. I'm really interested in the idea of them basically owning one of the upstair bathrooms where she cuts hair and gives out tattoo's and skin stitches. That's their domain, piercing Wade's ear in the bathtub or sitting on the sink's edge trimming Gwen's split ends. Small ways to showed they cared, polaroids hung on the bathroom mirror to match her bedroom walls, angel crowns and peace signs drawn in sharpie.

Now, being the fairy bitchmother around here, new age Anne over here has some relations.

Obviously, Beck is a problem child. Call it love-hate relationship, but since the truth was aired and things changed, Juno's been on his case ever since. Flower rings as parting gifts and as kids they put petals in each other's hair, but things die and Juno stays for the funeral. Always has, always will, picking up Beck drunk off the hallway floor before he gets caught, snatching cigarettes out from between his lips and pocketing them for later. "Are you stupid," hushed yells in midnight tones and at this point -- you might just be.

Something between Bell and Juno maybe?? That'd be something to explore, since Bell has the whole air of a wannabe queen whereas Juno is everybody's good judy. They find solidarity in her, possibly -- everybody calls Bell a monster but Juno's never been scared. Maybe a thread of Juno cutting Bell's hair, something intimate where she puts her guard down for once and they see something in Bell. I couldn't ever see it going past that, especially with harvests coming up. Probably just them yelling at each other at three a.m.

In a polar sense, I feel like Juno would be thoroughly attached to Luke and Wade. The three of them both share this sense of empty morality, beading contentment. It's all performative, and Juno recognizes this in both of them. Putting themselves last, starved out, eyebags and wide smiles -- it's almost haunting. Wondering how many photos of them are faked, smiles drawn in mimicry and Juno almost misses the irony.

Almost.

There's a lot of tiny threads I'd love to do -- Jane modelling for Juno; tying her hands to Beck to keep him from smoking; them being so, so gay for Rose. Ultimately, Juno's just another teen, an innate desire to please everybody, to sacrifice even when it isn't necessary. Reckless decisions and accidents, burning cigarette holes in their jeans and bleeding from tattoo pokers. There's so much exploring they have to do in so little time, but death is no fear. There's an anticipation in it, knowing death is the only moment Juno will allow themself to be changed. But there is no fear.

ANYTHING ELSE: Juno -- hufflepuff, agender, seventeen, liability

Commonly known as hellebores /ˈhɛlɪbɔːrz/, the Eurasian[2] genus Helleborus consists of approximately 20 species of herbaceous or evergreen perennial flowering plants in the family Ranunculaceae, within which it gave its name to the tribe of Helleboreae. Despite names such as "winter rose",[3] "Christmas rose" and "Lenten rose", hellebores are not closely related to the rose family (Rosaceae).[4] Many hellebore species are poisonous.

Last Edit: Mar 10, 2018 4:05:31 GMT -5 by Deleted

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“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 9, 2018 16:59:01 GMT -5 via mobile

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Mar 9, 2018 16:59:01 GMT -5

RAJA HAILSHAM

"This is how my personality always is.
Even if there’s no problem, fuck em"

NAME/ALIAS: surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
CHARACTER WANTED: Kyle whom I'd like to rename Raja
HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER: Raja couldn't have known it, but like a few of the other babies who ended up at Hailsham, he was never wanted. His parents didn't fall on hard times, he didn't lose anyone in a tragic accident forcing him into an orphanage, his mother simply never wanted him. There was no note pinned to a swaddled infant on a doorstep, no baby left in the care of grandparents too elderly to care for him, Raja's mother had an interview with the Hailsham orphanage. She signed the papers for his release herself, she placed her baby in the arms of another and did not kiss his forehead goodbye and she did not look back when she got back in the boat that would take her back to the center of the district.

Raja was a leftover, a reminder of a night that she badly wanted to forget. She didn't leave him a note for when he grew old enough, nor an address to find her at. The only thing that she gave him was a name and only so that if she heard of him in the future, she would know to avoid him.

Perhaps he had an inkling of this general dislike for his very existence that his mother held for him. It made him grow up nervous. Nervous that he would be left behind, that no one would ever love him, that he would never be first in anyone's heart. It made him defensive, closed off, strict with himself. From the beginning, he followed the diet plan to perfection, exercised the correct amount, took fresh air for the recommended hour or so every day and worked hard to exercise his brain. He wanted- no, he needed to be the best.

From early on, it was noted that he was different. Raja needed to be told things differently, he needed to learn differently to be allowed to do differently. Things that were considered small to others were big to him. He couldn't handle doing things out of routine, even cutting a corner and skipping a step was too uncomfortable. He was quiet as a child and needed to spend a lot of time alone, the loudness and the excitability of the other children overwhelming him too easily, often reducing him to tears.

As he grew older, these things either began to reduce or he became better at handling himself. He'd always been methodical in everything he did and that hard work began to really shine. Though intelligent, he wasn't the smartest but Raja could claim the title of the strongest, the warrior. He liked the quiet of training, the methodical repetition of pushups or swinging a sword over and over to achieve a goal. Though most would boast that he was a natural, Raja knew that he simply worked hard.

He fell into a rhythm with the other children, and was happy for a year or so, even shyly reaching out to Juno for affection. However, the day they found out their true reason and purpose, Raja couldn't handle it. Prone to meltdowns when he became frustrated, he panicked, breath coming too short and fists flying at anyone who came near. Kids started avoiding him, the angry kid with the blank gaze, the psycho. He drove them away too, words stilted and angry, a sneer becoming too commonplace on such a lovely face. Over the period of a few short weeks, he became estranged to the small group he'd grown up with, cruel words and flying fists keeping them all at bay.

Raja wanted them all to fuck off, to leave him alone.

He didn't want to grow attached to anyone, but he already was. A plan, panicked and strange entered his mind and while other children began to slack off in protest, Raja only worked harder.

If they were all going to die, he would be the healthiest, the strongest, the most likely candidate for harvesting.

If they were all going to die, he didn't want to be alone.

He didn't want to mourn any of them.

He would go first.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS: uhh he gay for beck tho.
Raja is undiagnosed with autism. He doin his best tho.
ANYTHING ELSE: It's a tie between a lotus flower and a skeleton flower.

Last Edit: Mar 10, 2018 18:48:34 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

compendium / avriel
clown car / pietro
2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

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oof

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 9, 2018 17:05:16 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Mar 9, 2018 17:05:16 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: Nyte
CHARACTER WANTED: Beck

HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER: In my head there's definitely two parts of Beck. There's the sweet kid who worked his ass off when he was younger. And he was always paranoid about fading into the background. 'Cause he wasn't the strongest nor the smartest nor the funniest and that caused so much conflict in him. Like the best part of the day was falling asleep so that he could dream of a mother's lips on his forehead and playing catch with his dad. Like, he was stressed out constantly definitely a bit insecure about not just being 'good enough' but being eye catching. I can see him having close friendships in this stage of his life which were then dropped or faded after he 'broke' for lack of a better term. I'll go into depth about that in headcannons. When he was small the idea of family was so important to him, it was basically everything. It was never about being the best.

Then we have Beck after the 'truth' comes out. I imagine this as a breaking point, something that absolutely tore him to pieces. Immense pain, locked himself away. Feelings he didn't know how to deal with. Like all this fear of failure, all this inner turmoil was absolutely pointless. Happy dreams turned to nightmares. Longing, out of reach. And all of it became too much to face. You'd call it cowardice, he'd probably agree. Trying to survive became a chore and it was easier just to send it all up in flames. Easier to forget that he ever cared in the first place. There's medicine, bandages, salve for the burn. You just gotta get so drunk you don't have to dream about everything you can't have. I see him as more wise than smart, that's where he truly shines. No he's never ever been strong or booksmart but you need to figure out how to illegally smuggle something onto the premises, Beck's your guy. He's got street smarts, common sense when he chooses to use it. But that's not often anymore. Breaking every rule in the place is his own special fuck you, some kind of control.

There's a huge visual difference between these parts of his life. Like Beck is more gaunt, darker clothes and hair that's left longer and unkempt 'cause who cares what he looks like. Not like putting a bow on an organ makes it any prettier. Used to have these cute chubby cheeks and was just a precious little marshmallow like I want the shift in this character to be drastic because it reflects his emotional turmoil. His attitude is very much going to be "what are they gonna do, kill me?" All big and bad, but in the end yeah- he's angry and trying to cope. This is all a defense mechanism so that he'll never have to hurt like he did. He'll never be stupid enough to believe in fantasies, to be so naive and idealistic. After all what is worse than growing up thinking you are a boy and finding out that you are nothing but a fattened pig.

Sex, Drugs, Alcohol. Totally his vice. Something to fall back on. He takes a sick kind of pleasure in poisoning the body meant for someone else. Like probably pretty petty when it comes to some stuff. Like an asshole but never in a genuinely mean and malicious way. Just playful and snarky. Avoids anything that isn't skin deep, that's when it starts to hurt.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS: Bell - She was pathetic. No point in sugar coating obvious truths, written upon the furrow of her brow and the poison perched upon the beds of her nails. She preyed upon the weak so that none would realize how soft her own skin was. And so it started off as pity, perhaps laced with bitter amusement, that she believed a single word flung from insecure lips would graze him any deeper than the skin. He smiled and shrugged, placing a hand upon her shoulder and offering up only his company on nights the silence ate them alive. Mutually assured destruction. It was the least that he could do. And there was not a specific moment that he realized - oh - she was suddenly so much more than the nothing he had intended her to become. But it wasn't so bad, sitting on rooftops at night with stars upon her skin. Shattering together, but in slow motion. Beautiful catastrophes as they collide.

Anne- Looking at them hurts. Burned into his flesh are the memories of everything that never was.

Kyle- gay

ANYTHING ELSE:
-fc is Minseok Kim
-am I allowed to have his flower be a lotus flower, i think the meaning fits well/is somwhat ironic with his character

Last Edit: Mar 11, 2018 3:32:01 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi
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Pronouns: She/Her
last seen Apr 6, 2024 0:45:24 GMT -5

basically miss america

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 9, 2018 19:45:47 GMT -5

Post by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi on Mar 9, 2018 19:45:47 GMT -5

b e l l } }

NAME/ALIAS: u know my name hoe
CHARACTER WANTED: BELL OH MY GOD IM SCREAMING
HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

You wear a smile on your face and a crown upon your head, but your heart is made of ice. Pure, solid, crystalline ice, not one crack on its surface. Unbreakable, just like you. Your blood is just as cold, and sometimes you find others afraid to touch you, scared that they'll become frozen too. Your head is held so high that even those taller than you you're still able to look down on them when you speak. Fear has always been your best motivator. It keeps them wrapped around your finger. Sometimes your words are as sharp as the thorns on a bundle of roses, but other times as delicate as their petals. You were never the brightest, never the most talented, but you are the smartest when it comes to the others. You know you will be one of the first to go when the time has come, so there is no point in trying to spare their feelings. This is a game, and they are simply just pieces to move and dispose of at your will. You are going to die, just like everyone else. But you will not be forgotten.

Because it is impossible to forget a queen.

* * *

I always knew that something was off about the Hailsham Institute. From the moment my foot stepped in the door for the first time, my instincts told me to run.

But I didn't know how to swim.

They finally told us once we were mature enough to understand, my intuitions had been right. But it was much worse than they could ever imagine. Here for a harvest, nothing more, no other reason. Raised like cattle to die. Except for a select few, they had a chance to have a few more years to continue their life, even if it was only for a little bit longer.

And I knew it would never be me.

I was average at best, and I knew it. The night they told us I stormed back to my room, rage overtaking me. Paintings torn from the wall, a cracked mirror, books strewn across the floor. I was reckless, but most unfortunately careless. My door was left open, just a crack, and curious eyes appeared, and they didn't run until I threw a book at the door.

From that day I promised no one would ever see me crumble again.

My talents would never permit me to be a carer, so I knew I had to find another way to survive. The others. They became pawns in my game, helping me to survive for as long as I possibly can. Some of their talents went to waste, but I would make sure they wouldn't. Fear grew in their eyes whenever I would walk by, knowing all the secrets that lips hold. Afraid for when there's might slip out of my mouth.

The power is invigorating.

And the fear is fulfilling at first. Until I realize that no one wants to be friends with the person who haunts their dreams at nights. So my days are filled with loneliness, and most nights too. Except for the ones where my feet drag me out of bed and to Beck's room, not even bothering to knock. He knows it will be me. Most times we sit in silence, each other's presence comforting. A few moments of bliss.

A few moments to forget.

I know I am going to die.

But my name won't.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS:
Back in the day when Beck was lame she kinda despised him, but ever since he became cool they developed a sort of mutual understanding for each other. Friendship might be too strong of a word, but they know that they're going to die and they've bonded over it kind of? He is most certainly the only person she can "confide" in if that's what you want to call it, she shares very little of her thoughts to the other, unless it's to tell them that they're stupid. Unless it's with him, she tells him just a little bit more. Something stirs in her when she's around him, a small crush of sorts maybe. She hates herself for it, since she both knows that they are doomed, but for some reason it lingers. Her sharp tongue still spills out insults, but Beck never seems to be phased. Maybe this is why she feels so intrigued by the boy.

Gwen, a girl clearly not quite as beautiful as she was, but someone who makes her feel a wave of jealousy crash over her every time she sees her walk down the halls. Maybe it was the fact that she was just better than her, maybe it was the fact that she knew she'd be one of the ones who would become a carer. Whatever it was, she was sure to make her life a living hell every chance she got.

He was a boy who was almost as close to perfection as Gwen, except this one, she could use. Kyle was always second best, and she knows how to use that to her advantage. No one is able to help her become better at sword fighting, it's just a lost cause, but when it comes to academics, that's easy. A boy so lost and so hurt and so angry, that just a nudge in the right direction would earn her a glance at his test paper. Or even sometimes a whole homework assignment done, without having to lift a finger. He is broken, he is shattered, but she is willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead.

She rivals her for the most beautiful girl in the institute, but no one would ever dare admit that Rose is more beautiful than her, especially not with how terrified most of the others are of what exactly she might do if they dare say otherwise. Or what one of their precious secrets might fall from her lips. Bell's status is safe for now, but a part of her tells her that a coup might be brewing right under her nose. That girl is filled with too much confidence. It's Bell's job to knock her down a few pegs, and to make sure she didn't get back up.

While she never disliked her as much as she did Gwen, Jane was someone she always had a small inkling of jealousy for. Maybe it was her talent as a dancer, her optimism, the way that Will looked at her, she's always wanted someone to look at her that way. But she's still wrapped around her finger. It's easy to do when all you have to mention is promises of the sea.

He never told her specifically, Bell just had a sense that Wade was sick, too sick. The kind of sick that would get you killed in a place like this. She wasn't entirely sure at first, but she mentioned it all but vaguely one time and he practically spilled everything. Something like this was dangerous here, so she promised to keep her lips sealed. At a cost of course.

Same game, but different tactics. Anne seems to know almost as much as Bell does, except there's one small difference. People tend to like Anne, something that a part of her wants until she reminds herself that being feared is so much better and much more rewarding. The most infuriating part is that she wasn't afraid of her. Maybe it's because she knew almost as much as her, but it wouldn't last for long. But there were still moves to be played. This game is not over yet.

A book of words purposefully placed where someone can easily find it, one that only describes the best of her day and just how wonderful she felt. So that if anyone were to "accidentally" come across it, they would be reminded just how perfect she is. But what they don't know is that there's another, tucked away in her room where only she can find it. One that's filled with her darkest nightmares, and her saddest moments. Words that would let them know just how broken and lonely she really is. But we can't have that now can we?

*these head canons are just ideas and will be talked about with the other writers to make sure they approve!*

ANYTHING ELSE: me being basic and saying roses, are we surprised?

Last Edit: Mar 10, 2018 21:29:26 GMT -5 by d1b. xylia fray ♕ kaяi

❝ moon dust in your hair, stars in your eyes ❞

alex 🐺
Veteran Member

999 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Apr 16, 2024 16:30:28 GMT -5

a la folie

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 10, 2018 11:28:36 GMT -5

Post by alex 🐺 on Mar 10, 2018 11:28:36 GMT -5

- a rose dipped in gold -

NAME/ALIAS: alex
CHARACTER WANTED: rose
HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

One day the sound came out of you, the words tumbling forward as if you had given meaning to the syllables yourself, and everything had changed. Always quiet and shy, you had finally found a voice. Brought forth by something inside of you, something desperate to get out, you had channeled it into singing. And never looked back.

Fallin' in reverse.
We closed our eyes.
And got lost in our timeless universe.
Dreaming your the sunrise,
With the flowers to feed the soul.

Bell calls you a daydreamer and she isn’t wrong. ~~Kyle~~ teases you and says that you thrive off of the attention from your weekly performances. He isn’t wrong. Your head is in the clouds, but you crave the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. The weekends are spent with Roan and Luke - your secret society of tortured souls too distracted by your inner demons and dreams. Roan paints, Luke jokes. You sing.

This love was going counter clock wise.
Audible thoughts beyond control.
We saw ourselves in roses,
That's the kinda of wine that can't be sold.

You wear the moon hanging from your mouth, roses between your legs, and tiaras of Spanish moss on your head, you are a consort of the spirits. You are madness, sanity. You are hell, paradise.

Play on, play on, play on, repeat.
Play on, play on, play on, repeat.

You look at Roan and think that you could never admit to how you feel. The rise in your chest and the clench of your heart when he looks away from you. When he doesn’t grant you his attention. Breathless whispers to yourself that if perhaps you sang louder, perhaps if your pitch was a bit higher, he would fall under your spell. But the armor that you wear, the arrogance that hangs around you deflects your true nature. Your vulnerability with all of these beautiful, destroyed souls at the institute.

I was in so deep we forgot where,
We had once placed out con chaos of hide and go seek.
We found a beautifully broken gem the seduction of silence.
His lips close to mine this world was ours creme de la creme.

You seek a world of something more - something outside of the walls of the institute. You’re not quite sure what pushes you so hard to create a world of your own design. Perhaps to escape the thoughts in your head swirling because of Roan - days spent with him training, always sidestepping around each other because of his relationship with Jane. Perhaps you blame yourself for ending up here with a makeshift family.

Sudden contour lines, so numb, so blind,
One way trip to reality only I knew where I needed to be.
Faded footprints leaving nothing behind but traces of you. and a lost mind.
You used to be my favorite daydream.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS:

- her arrogance/attention-seeking due to being abandoned by her family and coming to the institute, but also definitely something that she wears like armor to deflect how vulnerable she is

- well since my ship turned out to be a big gay boy, rose is going to be pining after roan - daydreaming about him but sidestepping anything because she knows that he is with jane, but also relishing in the time that they spend together (training and on the weekends)

- totally on-board with the tortured artists club with roan and luke

- love/hate relationship with bell - i feel like rose tries not to let the barbs from bell affect her and puts on a brave face, but does care about the girl at the end of the day

ANYTHING ELSE: cymbidium orchids are my fave because they're finicky bitches, quite like myself

Last Edit: Mar 12, 2018 15:33:00 GMT -5 by alex 🐺

the smell of night, inhaling stars.

gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
Graphics

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last seen Apr 16, 2024 1:57:31 GMT -5

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 10, 2018 13:20:53 GMT -5

Post by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Mar 10, 2018 13:20:53 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: griffin. ~~twix~~.
CHARACTER WANTED: luke hailsham.

HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

comic relief, one of the sun’s flowers, denim jackets, and sporadically, an overload of emotions in your head. you’re weightless like clouds yet a skeleton of hard feelings - trapped in a glass jar that threatens to explode at any given moment. you like the windows open, the essence of sea and fog inside your room. a lonely planet, you wear your heart silently on your sleeve whilst practicing the art of humor. it’s a taste of sun to see a grin rousted by one of your jokes—and you’ve become so addicted to the flavor you experience withdrawal symptoms whenever you try to stop.

Wade schooled you on therapy. first, it was verbal communication, words resonating along an empty hallway, diffusing through the thin walls towards elsewhere. then, his hands and yours began speaking in different cadences, in new dialects, in a language of their own. since, you’ve indulged into an intensive journal method. there’s a leather-bound book near arm span now, reserved for reflective writing each time the turbulence buried under your skin threatens to shatter into a storm.

sometimes, you feel inadequate because comedy is seen as the only strong suit of yours. guess the tolerance from others makes it worth the sentiment—but you want to be slightly more.

learn to run a lil’ faster,
learn how to appreciate literature
— the basics.

they see you as only a sunflower in bloom when you’re a flower who undergoes every state of growth: wilting, falling, rooting, rising and this gives you bloom. The Earth needs to come to your rescue because no floret should be caged.

HEADCANONS/PLOTS:

i. Bell. ('baby, be the class clown, i'll be the beauty queen in tears. it's a new art form showing people how little we care.'). maybe, the contrasting demeanor are what gravitates you and her towards each other. bell snarls her silver teeth whereas you make faces to rouse laughter from her. you just want to hear the sound for once. not theatrical joy; pure joy. your goal is to drink in Bell’s vulnerability as she clutches at her stomach, a string of giggles in the air.

ii. Anne. --if she did tattoos. you owe your first ever tattoo to her, a 2 a.m. session in a bathroom. her telling you to not whimper as a needle stabs the ink in. she recommended the logo for you: a minimalist pattern of three sunflowers. one shredding petals. one falling. one in bloom. she says you have a crooked smile but you’re too busy, approving her dimples. it’s platonic at best. both of you favor the night, where activity fades away and serenity comes in. but, often, she stumbles too deep into others’ business—risky ones, even—it’s up to you to pull her back out, no matter how grim the consequences are. whenever you infuriate Mother with your humor, she lets you crash on the floor - in her room - because you were scared of Mother approaching you in sleep and doing the unspeakables.

iii. Smoking. you began at a young age. a youth that idolized cigarettes. then, a hiatus in the middle. but, it started again after you discovered - the institute was counterfeit. they’re another one of your safety nets, a comfort between the lips and emaciated fingers. you take them one day at a time, a slow demise. hopefully, it occurs before the harvesting. your chest is already heavy with fright.

iv. Wade. he wrapped you in the word ‘special’ since day one. you don’t think he completely knows that—you don’t bother to inquire. because, the late-night talks in corridors, holding hands on certain occasions, the way his Adam's apple blobs down and the kiss you shared under moonlight is ~~never~~ enough. he’s a large percent of your safety net and soul. you care about him in extremes. that should be considered dangerous because you immensely care about his opinion of you also. by that reason, you nowadays try to steer the conversations away from our problems—and more into his. you’re ready to know whatever he wants to tell you.

v. Gwen. guardian angel. you always find delight in the fact that her first initial is ‘G’. because, she is a deity from above. they tell you she’s vain—but you do not trust that, which led you to open conversation with her. some request—‘can you help me with my studies?’. since, you’ve bonded. she always have snacks at a corner of her room whenever you visit for revisions. maybe, her gaze depicts you as a underling—but you’re content with it because through thick and thin, you respect her.

vi. Rose & Will. tortured artists. all three of you. rose escapes reality through her voice—you, through your jokes—and will, through a blank canvas. in a different universe, you three must’ve been a caravan of new art forms and theatricality. on weekends, you have a hang-out in the recreation hall, rose singing an exclusive of a song for us. will, always occupied with a drawing. and you—using your fingers to make hoops over your eyes and pretending you were the Mother. it’s your own secret art society.

vii. Theatre. your interest in it was and is profound. the idea of a temporary escape—down a made-up world—appealed you immeasurably. on top of your bucket-list is: a play, starring everyone in Hailsham. now, it sounds like a fiasco but you're determined.

viii. Beck. he’s your supplier—and a big fan of whatever phrase you coined at the spot. there’s something akin about you both. maybe, it’s the hedonistic souls he and you have. he enjoys company with booze. you make great company. often, he’ll ask you for help—to carry some booze or cigar crates in. you comply for the sake of friendship.

ix. Confession. Wade gives you shivers up your neck—and down somewhere. but, you stay friendly with almost everyone. The Mother isn’t so fond of you as there’s been a too many cases where you’ve parodied her.

x. Loneliness. never had parents, always a scapegoat. you struggle with it. your smile veils a plethora of secrets and emotions you’re too much of a coward to reveal.

ANYTHING ELSE:

-GAY. i think everything's included above. much hype.

- possible face-claim is Matheus Plentz.

- no flower can lift someone’s spirits quite like SUNFLOWERS. the HELIANTHUS symbolizes adoration, loyalty and longevity.

Last Edit: Mar 11, 2018 1:35:34 GMT -5 by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

kousei ♚
Mentor

2,011 POSTS
Pronouns: He/Him/His
last seen May 7, 2022 17:23:18 GMT -5

now and forever

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 10, 2018 16:27:19 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Mar 10, 2018 16:27:19 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: Kousei
CHARACTER WANTED: Will -- renamed to Roan (like the colour)
HOW YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

X

You miss the sunrise.

("I never had it.")

So you chase it upon your whitewashed canvas, dipping your paintbrush within a palette and sending your dreams into reality, heavy-handed brush strokes and wide eyes. You anchor yourself to what you hear from Jane's lips and call it a legend; you trust her. She labels the colors on your palette, she tells you the sunrise looks orange on the horizon. A light shade of pink on some days, golden on good days and yellow on others. It's strange, the dependence on her you feel tangled within your chest, she says you paint like a dreamer. You feel like one; you rely on words and shapes. You ask her if what you painted looks like the sunrise, she hugs you and tells you it does. You paint like a dreamer; but you dream of storms, the sun and the stars. You can't bring yourself to dream of her though, you tell yourself that you will. Someday. You can only hope. You're afraid of losing your guide through this darkness. She could leave if she wanted, and take her labels and notebook with her.

You miss the sunrise more than you miss your parents--

("I never knew them.")

-- there's nothing to miss.

You train in the morning, throwing knives at a monochromatic world and pretending you understand the color of blood spatter. You cut your finger, watch something well up and stain your skin. "It's called scarlet," Jane tells you it's a shade of red. You treat her words like legend, she's your guide. She anchors you to your passion, she takes your hand through a grey smokescreen and lets you scatter your dreams across a canvas. You take her hand and anchor her reckless feet to the ground, you tell her not to do anything stupid. She usually ignores you; she frustrates you but you bite your lip and hold your silence. You hold your tongue.

Come the sunrise, that Jane tells you looks yellow, you halfheartedly throw knives and swing spears because they tell you to. You're a windup toy, a dance monkey with screws for joints and mechanical limbs. The higher-ups twist your screws, turns your knob and whisper orders in your ear so you dance with steel at your fingertips. Jane tells you it's silver, you believe her because you have to. She has no reason to lie to you.

Come afternoon, you let silver fall from your fingertips. You want to be alone, Jane finds you anyway with another crazy idea and stupid theory. You roll your eyes because you should let her go and slip between your fingertips. You chase her and follow her trail in the sand. "Don't go." You would croak because one of these days she's going to get herself hurt or worse. You take her hand, no fire at your fingertips. Perhaps if you could see her, if you could see all of her there would be a spark worth seeing there. You want a spark to be there, you want to see her in storms and the sun; but you don't.

Come night time, you wake in the middle of the night and you take the colors Jane labelled for you upon your palette and paint like a dreamer. "I remember: the storms, the stars, the moon, the sun. I can see it."

At least, you remember the monochromatic mess in your dreams. You flip open your notebook and find Jane's handwriting. She attaches objects to colours, you can paint without her looking over your shoulder. So you remember what you dream with your eyes closed, you find it in your book.

You dream with your eyes open, heavy handed strokes and all. You don't fully understand it, but you paint the universe anyway.

You remember to thank Jane the next morning, you taste empty space when she kisses you. She keeps your secrets, labels your colours and keeps your dreams alive. You spatter dreams across blank space with care, she validates you. You'd once asked in simple passing as you picked flowers. Mechanical joints clicking and gears turning. "What colour is empty space, Jane?" She doesn't understand though, you never clarify.

You wonder if it tastes like her lips against yours; she could never tell you the colour of true love.

You wish she could though, you tell yourself she will.

("Someday.")

HEADCANONS/PLOTS: Depends on Jane super hard to keep his dreams alive. Doesn't want to lose her and everything she does for him. Appreciates the closeness and normalcy she brings, can't bring himself to really love her (can he bring himself to love anyone? Who knows?) so that'll be fun. Who knows what he'll do with other people, no one plots with me :c

ANYTHING ELSE:

- dreamer

- a colourblind painter who sees beauty in all things

- dependent on other people to keep his dreams alive

- I mean he's straight I guess

- I don't even like flowers :///

Last Edit: Mar 10, 2018 21:29:08 GMT -5 by kousei ♚

gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan
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7,691 POSTS
Member is Online

— 🥀 —

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 11, 2018 18:57:33 GMT -5 via mobile

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Mar 11, 2018 18:57:33 GMT -5

Hey guys! I just wanted to pop in and send a big thank you to those who have applied so far and to make a formal announcement that I will be doing the first round of acceptances tomorrow, March 12th, at roughly 7:00 pm site time! So if you would like to apply or finish your application, make sure to get it in soon!

Thanks to everyone for your continued patience!

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan
Administrator

7,691 POSTS
Member is Online

— 🥀 —

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 12, 2018 18:10:27 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Mar 12, 2018 18:10:27 GMT -5

A C C E P T E D

R A V E —

“A core only death could change, a stare only death could kill.”

Rave! Hen! Your vision of ~~Anne~~ Juno is so clear and so refreshing to read. You chose to expand upon the principle parts of Juno’s personality in a direction that I absolutely adore. They are the backbone of a group of people who are doomed, and the ways in which they choose to exert the pressures of these expectations has been met with what I personally feel is hyper realistic. You make Juno an easy character to root for, and I found my eyes glued to the screen as I read your application. Each of your headcanons, rather than regurgitating previously stated information, provided new light and new lengths to their personality and their relationships with their peers. You went so in-depth with these and they were truly a joy for me to read. You have such a firm grasp on who Juno is, and I cannot wait to see what you do with them next! Welcome to the plot, nerd.

E L E G A N T —

“If they were going to die, he didn’t want to be alone.”

Leave it to you, sis, to take something as commonplace on this site as an orphan’s tale and make it seem like a fresh wound. You have a perspective that is unique to yourself and to your characters: a certain something that makes you stand out from a crowd; it’s one of the things I have always looked up to you for. Your narrative with Raja was fabulous, and I found myself feeling a renewed sadness for a character whose beginning was not unlike many other characters on this site, and I felt compelled to read more as I went along. I absolutely adore your headcanon involving Raja’s undiagnosed autism. I think mental diversity is something that is often ignored or overlooked, point blank, so thank you for bringing that to attention. Furthermore, I think your ideas involving the other orphans is spot on to what I had in mind for him when writing his description. This character is someone who wears his anger and discomfort like a second skin- he is abrasive by nature and I like that you didn’t try to sugarcoat that about him. Welcome to the plot!!

N Y T E —

“You just gotta get so drunk you don't have to dream about everything you can't have.”

Nyte, I love your take on Beck, particularly your ideas of before/after discovery of the truth. You really capitalized on some key differences, not only in his personality and his views on life and death and whatever comes next, (“What are they gonna do, kill me?”) but even the differences in his appearance have been noted and explained. It is a small thing that goes a really long way. I already doted on your headcanon with Bell in Kari’s note, so I’ll talk about the one with Anne/Juno. When writing these characters, I gave each of them one connection just so that everyone would have an equal role in the plot and not feel excluded. You are one of the few who has addressed it head on, and I wanted to thank you for it. “Burned into his flesh are the memories of everything that never was.” Mhm that is the stuff I like!! I’m very excited to see how this pans out, dear. Welcome to Hailsham!

K A R I —

“Because it is impossible to forget a queen.”

Ah, the one character I love to hate and hate to love! Your take on Bell- a fabulous, in-control, strong woman who saves her tears for the pillow- was exactly where I wanted this character to go. I love how adamant she is about hiding her “weak” emotions from others and even herself. You seem to have a clear understanding of how this character was meant to be perceived among her peers and how she views herself. The idea of being best frenemies with Beck is so odd and yet makes so much sense. And the fact that you, (and quite a few others that I know of,) have already taken so much time to flesh out these characters and expand them in directions I hadn’t yet thought of is just… incredible. Welcome aboard!

A L E X —

“You are madness, sanity. You are hell, paradise.”

You’ve given life to a character on the rise, Alex, and I am thrilled that you applied for her. The way you carefully explained her growth, not only as a singer, but as a person, and the ways in which the truth have affected these growths is super super interesting as a reader. I adore her view of the world, and how if only she were a slightly better singer, perhaps some things would be a bit better, because ugh. Haven’t we all felt like we could be better in times of strife? I love the headcanon involving a potential romance with Roan, but I’m also a sucker for unrequited romance, so that shouldn’t come as a surprise. I love Rose’s self control, how she refuses to act on her feelings because her moral compass won’t let her. I can’t wait to see what happens should she ever get the best of her own judgement and give in, though! Welcome to the plot, lovely!

G R I F F I N —

“The Earth needs to come to your rescue because no floret should be caged.”

This! Was! So! Good! I want to start off by saying that, as far as I can see, you have delved the furthest into the world of this plot. You’ve used terminology and referred to npc characters in a way no one else has. Furthermore, you clearly read the other characters fully, and you’ve even implicated ideas from other applicants’ ideas. It made it much more cohesive and easy to see your take on Luke, which was completely darling, by the way. Your narrative with him thus far has been beautiful written, you little Twix you. Ten headcannons. Ten. And each is well explained and well thought out as to why these apply to him. I can tell you put in actual thought for these, and viewed each of them through Luke’s perspective instead of your own. All in all, you’ve done a fabulous job of capturing Luke’s spirit, and I’m thrilled to see what is next for him. Welcome to Hailsham my lil Twix!!!

K O U S E I —

“You dream with your eyes open, heavy handed strokes and all.”

This poor, tortured soul. Kousei, you have a knack for bringing out a character’s vulnerability in an extremely powerful and moving way. Your dialogue is so spot on and so intriguing to read, and your portrayal of ~~Will~~ Roan is everything I could ask for. I love the headcanon where you said he depends on Jane to keep his dreams alive. That is a very big job, and I am already interested in seeing the development to come from that, since we all know Jane isn’t exactly the most careful in regards to the needs of others. I think there will be an interesting plot line between these two and I can’t wait to read it! Welcome aboard!

Annnnnd with that, acceptances have come to a close! A huge thank you to everyone who applied— you are all instrumental in bringing this plot, which I’ve wanted to do for a very long time, to life, and I am so, so excited to have each of you along for the ride. As of this acceptance, each of you have until April 12th to finish your bio or your character will be reopened for application. if you will need an extension, feel free to pm me or message me on slack or Skype!

Furthermore, applications for Original Characters will open up just as soon as I edit the form into the original post, which should be done some time tonight!

Again, thanks to everyone who applied, and congrats on getting in!!

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

flyss
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hi! miss u guys

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 12, 2018 23:14:39 GMT -5

Post by flyss on Mar 12, 2018 23:14:39 GMT -5

[googlefont=Caveat][googlefont=Raleway]
Liam Hailsham
NAME/ALIAS: Flyss!!! :revolving_hearts:

CHARACTER’S NAME: Liam Hailsham

HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER: You're one of a kind. You've heard it a million times before, from the mouths of Mother and your caretaker and the other kids, but it's just never seemed right. Maybe on the outside, people are different from one another- maybe they have futures and people they care about and personalities, but it's not like that here. At the Hailsham institute, nobody is their own person. Sure, every kid has tried to be different- a choppy haircut here, a wannabe leader there, little smiles drawn in pen in on the bathroom walls- but they've all ended up the same: dead.

You heard it first from one of the 17s during dinner some few years ago. You'd thought it was a joke at first- you loved jokes at the time and never missed out on an opportunity to crack one- but nobody was laughing. It couldn't be real, right? You were supposed to be getting ready for adoption, not ready for slaughter. And yet... there was no reason for them to be lying. From that day, you clung to anything unique about yourself, a part of you still hoping that if you performed well enough, that you'd somehow find a way out of it. Training, studying, keeping an eye out on the others; there was never any sort of hard feelings, just hard work and a desperate boy. However, as kids began to disappear and your situation became more and more real, you lost that optimism.

You're gonna die one day, you're gonna be forgotten, and nobody is going to care.

Maybe that's what scares you the most.

Though a mortality so close had put a certain damper in your attitude, it never quite had the opportunity to change who you wanted to be. You still strove to be someone who could be trusted, a man of loyalty, and you tried to be honest whenever possible. Affectionate, nurturing: you tried to create a comfort for the others, even in the midst of your own pain. Your brother was your number one priority- Cole was your mirror image, someone who you'd had since the beginning and would (hopefully) have until the end- and even when you tried to divvy your attention up to everyone else and their doings, it still somehow always wandered right back to him.

Nevertheless, your efforts often went unnoticed. You offered an open ear, a body to find warmth in, a friendship to occupy the seemingly endless time at Hailsham, and yet it remained only that- an offer. You didn't think that you could rescind it, for it'd be awfully rude to dangle a sausage in front of a dog and then pull it away, but being nice was tiring. Maybe that wasn't your thing, you'd rationed. You'd come off as manipulative before, as a kid in a younger year had said, but the thought of such corruption was baffling. You wanted everything to turn out perfect, but could you really be that forceful about it? Perhaps. But it wasn't and isn't a worry of yours by any means.

With age, you became more responsible, although you were never really responsible to begin with. A number of times you'd found yourself in particularly challenging situations, some of which you'd created and others of which you'd walked right into. One of your fondest impulses took place in the 2nd floor bathroom, with a girl named Juno from the 17s. Your contact with the kids your senior was limited, if any, but this girl had seemed nice enough to approach. Many friendly faces had come and gone from her nook of the house, so you'd figured there'd be no harm in checking it out for yourself. That night, you returned to your room with one more tattoo- the letters "BBND" on your ankle- than you'd left with that morning. It was your own little way of "being one-of-a-kid", though your opinion on such was unwavering.

The small change in your appearance had been enough to rekindle your desire to live, a warmth bubbling up in your core that you'd missed from your younger years, if only momentarily. But it wasn't anything of a size to stay. You'd soon returned to your daily bustle, forgetting that feeling except for when you admired your ink in the shower at night and in bed right after. You were never unhappy, you'd say, but you were also never content. Maybe, eventually, you'd change that; for now, you tried not to think of it.

Freedom was only an ocean away.

ANYTHING ELSE: He's twins with Cole Hailsham, to be played by the lovely Tom <3
I like sunflowers, because my grandparents- who live out in semi-country Texas- have a really pretty bunch of them out in their backyard by the train tracks :heart_eyes:

they're just always so pretty to look at!!!!! Plus their seeds are yummy

Last Edit: Apr 12, 2018 11:06:31 GMT -5 by flyss

Credit: Shrimp

Credit: Avalon

"I could have been so much more than just Neptune.
I could have been a whole damn
galaxy."

Tom
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OowoO

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 13, 2018 18:37:05 GMT -5

Post by Tom on Mar 13, 2018 18:37:05 GMT -5

Cole Hailsham

NAME/ALIAS: Tom/Hetaliachina
CHARACTER’S NAME: Cole Hailshim
HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

Words are his solace in the night of truth.

A worn out journal covered in marks of a teenager who didn't know what the world held over him. Secrets jotted down on lined paper with words that he never dares to speak out. The curve of every word adding to the conjoined work that rests on paper burned from his mind. The world may be burning from a reality that none of them had expected, but he would be damned if he didn't at least jot down his thoughts about it. The paper would be burned later by the fire that gives warmth that most don't have. The harvest, a symbol of death and freedom, but rumors spread like wildfire through the walls of Hailsham. The Seventeens know about it, but secret's out and words are his thing.

All it took was moments of blending in with the outskirts to hear what the seventeens spoke of. An outcast by nature, he fades into the background without even a glance. No one knew of Cole Hailsham, except Liam, but that's how he preferred it. No one needed to know why he's terrified of speaking how he feels because everything is inevitable. Death. Emotions. The collapse of himself. Liam was one of a kind, a special someone who everyone loved. Kindness oozed from his lips with every moment spent in the walls of Hailsham. That wasn't Cole, who looked like his twin, but acted more like an annoyed brat. Kindness was not in his veins like his brother. Instead, he spits fire from his lips and writes ice onto his pages.

While his brother worries about his own life, Cole was a skeptic of everything around them. Perfection in everything, from food to beds to education and training, there's always been an itch that something's always been off, so when he heard whispers from one of the Seventeens to another, everything came crashing with a new purpose. Life. Death. There was never a choice for them and that was fine. All people die eventually. A silent huff falls from his lips as the words come out faster and faster with black ink that sticks to his palm. Scribbles along words that do not fit with his narrative. It's complete, but never enough for him to feel whole.

Why does he never feel whole?

He doesn't know.

The idea of death never terrified him, but he's noticing the drop in his grades and training. The idea of sleeping in bed all day comes through his mind more frequently than before, but he still pushes himself up and into conversation with Liam. A silent reminder that it wasn't just him in this mess, but his brother too. The paper is torn from the journal as he throws it into the fireplace. The words, I don't want to die, burns to black as ashes rise and bodies fall. Stomping what's left of the embers, Cole's moving to the window where the moon glimmers in barely as his eyes scan the yard like someone may make a run for it like Deb and Dan had done. A myth that feels even more real with the fact that adoptions weren't real.

Words are his solace, but he wasn't always the outcast with a journal of harsh emotions and real feelings.

Once upon a time, he was a child who ran with the other children without a care in the world. Nothing to chain him to his belief of why give in to others. The harsh words begin to form when children left him in order to further themselves from him, like he had a plague of something. Maybe it was his own doing, but he never could tell. They didn't believe in things that he did. They didn't see through him to watch the feeling of frustration that lies in him from his lack of confidence. Liam's always been the better one with a smile that brightens up a room. Liam's always had confidence in speaking to others and how to deal with emotions, but Cole sits on his own under a tree.

Book in hand and pencil behind his ear, he watches the leaves fall until the silence becomes bearable.

Liam is the only one who offers him a hand, that he denies every time. If others didn't want him to be around them, then why try to be. Silence was where he shined better with grades and training, no one stepping in his way to try and force him to lose his focus on what he had wanted before. Things seemed to change in a flash around the halls of Hailsham, but one thing never changes. He still lays outside the fence of everyone else, only just a forgettable face among many.

One day, he'd learn to find solace in others.

But for now, words would be enough.

ANYTHING ELSE: TL;DR: Loner who likes to write and read on his own. Sort of intelligent, but letting it slip from rumors of the truth. (can add more if needed)

Also, I enjoy lilacs because they remind me of my great grandma, who's house smelled of them.

Made by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan

arx
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literally so gay, doing so many crimes

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 16, 2018 4:20:19 GMT -5

Post by arx on Mar 16, 2018 4:20:19 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: arx

CHARACTER’S NAME: theo

HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

Floriography.

Dried leaves and petals preserved between parchment pages are where I find solace. I wish my handwriting were as beautiful as the flowers pressed there, but I've never been very dexterous. I write their names in scratchy letters—scientific first, followed by the more commonly known name. I keep the descriptions brief, let the flowers speak for themselves as the parchment crinkles with each turn of the page.

A silent language. The language of flowers.

Mother told me it was a hobby, not a skill or talent. ("Meritless, Theo.") I felt so small in that moment; my eyes burned long after I had stopped crying. How could a language so beautifully cryptic and intimate be meritless? How could the only thing I've ever excelled at be useless? I couldn't believe it. Even if Mother disagreed.

Gardening and flower arrangement—it will be the most rebellious act I ever commit. And I'm content with that. The 17's burst with such bold, cacophonous personalities. It's no wonder we 16's simply enjoy the quiet of falling leaves and flower gardens. Different. Not bad, simply different. And yet we will all meet the same fate. There is a strange beauty in it. Though I think there is a beauty in most everything and everyone.

Even the harshest of realities can be poetic. (Colchicum autumnale; Meadow Saffron; My best days are past.) Quite a fitting name for a victor. Quite a lovely flower, too. Perhaps one of the most nostalgic messages one can convey with a single bloom. I mix it into most of the arrangements I make for the other Hailsham residents. They don't speak the language, but that's no matter. I know the flowers can speak for themselves.

ANYTHING ELSE:

honeysuckle, lilac, lily of the valley - all tied bc they all smell nice af

also idk if this shit is long enough everyone wrote like an entire bio please help me Darren

Last Edit: Mar 16, 2018 4:21:05 GMT -5 by arx

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

kap
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goomy goomy on the brain

Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Mar 29, 2018 2:35:27 GMT -5

Post by kap on Mar 29, 2018 2:35:27 GMT -5

[googlefont="Satisfy:400"]Newt Hailsham

NAME/ALIAS: Kaplan

CHARACTER’S NAME: Newt Hailsham

HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:
"How are you so smart?" they've asked me. In response, I simply give them a smile and a shrug. It's true, my intelligence is beyond what most people can seem to attain for themselves, but I don't let that give me too much confidence. I'm smart enough to know that anyone who fills themselves with over-confidence doesn't get very far in life. Although I do have confidence in my abilities, I don't let that control me. I use logic to live my life, and don't let myself get into any dangerous or stupid situations as long as I can help it. If I can control whether or not something bad happens to me, I avoid the negativity.

The thing is, when I give that smile and shrug in response to where my intellect comes from, it's not that I don't know. It's just that I simply don't feel like sharing my answer. If one can't figure out where to obtain intelligence for themselves, do they truly deserve to have it? I hate ignorant people, as they truly will never understand how the world works, and therefore just spiral the world's progress backwards and into the ground once more. I obtain my intelligence from my studies. I work hard to learn everything I can, even if it's not always required of me. I go beyond what I'm required to learn and I teach myself other things. My collection of books is very large and could even be considered outrageous. No matter how many books I have, though, I have one notebook that I carry everywhere with me.

This notebook is where I document my thoughts. If I have something that I need to remember for later, it goes in this notebook. All of my to-do lists go in here, too. Anything that I think might be important knowledge for a later date will go in here. On the off chance that someone tries to take my notebook from me or read it over my shoulder, though, I will show that I am more than just smart. I'm strong, too. I've picked up some skills in the department of self-defense, and I've trained myself to use them properly. Even though there's not really official career training in my school curriculum, I'd still consider myself to be a career, due to the amount of learning and training I've done on my own.

I'm not afraid to take down those that oppose me. I'm usually somewhat solitary, as most people don't know how to get on my good side and I'll often snap at those that annoy me, which is done rather easily. I'm a very irritable person. With my strength and intellect, you have to have some sort of skills of your own for me to find you to be worth my time. Newt Hailsham doesn't waste his time with the unworthy.

ANYTHING ELSE:
Daisies are my fav <3

Last Edit: Apr 9, 2018 12:25:36 GMT -5 by kap

shrimp
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Welcome to Hailsham | District Four Apr 4, 2018 1:05:20 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Apr 4, 2018 1:05:20 GMT -5

NAME/ALIAS: shrimp
CHARACTER’S NAME: aesh ("ash") hilsham
HOW DO YOU SEE THIS CHARACTER:

wipperoni but i don't want to lose it

It's been a year since the revelation, and all he can feel each day is something that rests heavy on his abdomen, causes his stomach to churn. Everything else fell by the wayside - it's all he can do to pretend as if he's the same as he was before. As if everything is normal.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

ANYTHING ELSE: hydrangeas! my childhood house had bushes upon bushes of them. they grow at an alarmingly fast rate and spread like wildfire.