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((( Your post in third person would sound like :

Dominique woke up, feeling like he had spent another night drinking. He tried to remember if he had been. He remembered coming in and unpacking what stuff he had brought, but then it all got kind of fuzzy. He looked outside, noticing it was still night. He decided to go back to bed, he'd deal with this in the morning.

Like I said, sorry about not being clear on that.
And I'm not sure exactly what you mean by your question. Everyone gets to keep a few basic things, like room decorations and such. Clothing is provided for them and is kept in the closet and drawers. Each room has a small personal bathroom with a shower and toiletries.
I hope I answered your question in there somewhere.)))

For a few moments Thorn had curled up on the floor, holding her aching head which had her horribly aching eyes. She saw not the two pass by the celled room, for she was trying to recollect herself quietly, and had sat her boxes down. Once the pain had finally lifted a bit, she looked up and sighed. SHe also noted that she woke up on the floor because she must have fallen out of bed; that would explain why she was on cold stone instead of cold cheap mattress.

Upon hearing a voice on one side of her, Thorn flinched in defense, then realized that she was still the only one this.....wait a minute......

The pain in her eyes and her head finally dulling enough for her to ACTUALLY see beyond three feet, in panic she looked around. This was no room......it was like a prison cell of some sort, locked bar doors and all. But yet it had the look of a room; a small bathroom and shower, a cold but slighly comfy bed, some shelving, and a cloest with dull gray clothing..............What the hell?!

This wasn't a school, was it? No school did this; no legal one, anyways!

She decided to speak back to the person, actually, for two reasons:
1) She actually was speaking to her POLITELY, the first in awhile. Even if she was losing it and it was her mind, it was a nice little voice.
2) The voice crack showed that she was also scared, and therefore was in the same boat as Thorn.

"Ah, a voice; we have communication! Well, it's nice to meet you Charlie, even though I can't see you at the moment. You're probably right; this is probably hell for all we know, and it sure feels like it. Hm...let's see if there's some sort of hole here so I can actually put a face to that voice of yours............ow, d*mn eye pain.....feels like someone ripped them out and stuck them back in."

As she said this, she was already looking at the wall as to where the voice came from. While she usually wasn't what you'd call a social type, Thorn needed answers and now.

Suddenly, she found a loose brick. "Bingo; that's the ticket! Gimme one sec!" she mumbled, and wiggled it loose. She'd had plenty of practice on that. Peering in, she could see another young lady in the cell, also looking miserable. "Why hello there; glad to see I'm not alone in this strange situation. Thought I was hearing voices in my head or something for a minute..." she chuckled dryly.

Sally squirmed slightly, looking around the room. Her posters lay on the ground next to her, along with a couple of fuzzy pillows. She grabbed some tape and began to put them up. She looked at the girl from Paramore, thinking to herself.
Where was she?
She turned her attention away from Haley and put up another poster. This time it was a fake poster from the Disney store. It was Tinkerbell sitting in a field of flowers for the '1964 tour' or something. She picked up the pillow and put them on the bed. She sat back down, cuddling up against the fluffy neon green one. She wasn't sure if she should go out, so she stayed in, waiting for someone to show up.
(( The Tinkerbell Poster

Brynn had opened her eyes to find herself staring at a white-washed ceiling with painfully bright florescent lights. I'm here. She sat up, not caring about the pain making it self quite evident in her aching head. It felt good. No doubt by now they've taken my razors away, she thought dismissively. No matter, I don't care. I'm at this White Ridge place and I'll survive it. She could feel that she was wearing nothing than her usual underwear and a huge T-shirt that didn't fit her and wasn't hers, but it's not like it mattered. She was covered decently.
She put her arms on her knees and stared at the wall at the foot of her bed. She could hear some girls talking to each other, but she didn't much care. They probably didn't know anymore than her, but she listened for a while before tuning them out. Idiots, both of them. Both have a need to make friends and socialize in this godforsaken place. I don't need anybody and never have. She sat there, breathing, assessing the places that were causing her the most pain. Her head, the back of her neck, the outside of her right leg. This place was so random that she actually moved to look at it. The veins all on the right side were red and swollen and she could see a few puncture marks at key places: the ankle, the knee, the hip. She didn't know how they got there, but she didn't like the thought that somebody had injected something into her leg at her hip. That meant that somebody had probably undressed her, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she slipped her leg under the threadbare sheet and resumed resting her arms on her knees.
Brynn heard footsteps pass by her room, and then she heard them come tentatively back and stop right outside her door. She knew that all they could see was her pink hair cascading down her back and overflowing the bed slightly. I guess there are some advantages to having this long hair. She waited a while for them to go away, but they didn't. After what seemed like a good few minutes, she turned slightly so she could look at the door with one blue-gray eye. A girl with black hair and blue eyes stared back at her, curious. Brynn looked her over, branded her as uninteresting, and turned away. She hadn't blinked the entire time, her cool, dead gaze not once breaking eye contact with the girl until Brynn looked away. Brynn began to wait for something interesting to happen.
Throughout this entire time, Brynn hadn't uttered a sound.

((Robiroth, what happened to using past tense? And to the room layout with the bathroom that the GMs were so kind to give us?))

"I know what you mean about the eyes. It feels like something exploded in my skull." Charlie chuckled a little as she responded to the girl. Finally. A person was talking to her, and in a nice way, too. Not some condescending adult or a derisive teenager, but someone who just sounded friendly. Let's see how she feels when she gets to know me, Charlie thought bitterly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, too," Charlie said as she heard something scraping in the wall. A moment later, a brick wiggled loose and into the next room, and she could suddenly see the face to which the voice next door belonged.
"And nice to see you." Charlie grinned through the aperture. Maybe she would actually make a friend. But friends usually know each other's names, don't they?
"So, um...what's your name? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want, but I was just wondering. I mean, Charlie's not even my real name, it's just short for Charlotte. Not that you needed to know that..." Charlie could have kicked herself. Why was she babbling like this? Was it just nerves or the fact that someone was actually talking to her?