Sanity Report of Apathetic Nonchalance

[Viscount Greenleaf]

Today (Friday 27th of Oct, 2006) mr. Apathetic Nonchalance has started treatment, in accordance with court order # 2998. He is taking pills for his tendency to dance naked in supermarkets. We've started him on physostigmine, expecting results immediatly. Side effects include (but are not limited to) optical insanity, seeing things that aren't there.


We wish Apa the best of luck. If his behaviour fails to improve, he will be sent to the Happy Home for.. severe treatment.

Due to a deterioration in his behaviour, Apathetic Nonchalance has been sentenced by the court (order #10254) to start amobarbital treatment on Sunday 5th of November, 2006. This order was issued after severe disturbance of the peace, and potential endangerment of others. Once again, the Happy Home wishes Apa luck. Please don't post here without the patient's permission.



Pre-guild thread:
]http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=18929503

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Navigation

All day, staring at the ceiling

Post 1: The First Post (First Post)
Post 2: Navigation <- You Are Here
Post 3: Rules
Post 4: On The Outside (OOC Info/Updates/Timeline)
Post 5: Scrawlings (IC Updates)
Post 6: Current Prescriptions (Physostigmine, Amobarbital)
Post 7: Falsely (?) Accused (Family)
Post 8: Accomodations (Living-Space)
Post 9: Contraband (Items)
Post 10: Recreation (Past Forms/Art)
Post 11: Observation (Quotes From the Role-Play)
Post 12: Whatever Else (Misc.)
Post 13: Credits
Post 14:
Post 15: First In-Character Post

Making friends with shadows on my wall

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Rules

All night, hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep

1. As a general rule, only those on Happy Home medication can post here. Please keep all posts made here IC; OOC posts, such as comments, critique, and OOC RP can be made in the main thread, here.

2. Please keep all post-content - language, images, blood, and all that good stuff - PG-13.

3. All art and creative ideas are c to their creators, and should remain as such. Failure to keep this in mind will make Apathetic go off his meds, and believe me, he'll be the least of your problems.

Because tomorrow might be good for something

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Hold on-- I'm feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown

OOC Info

[forthcoming]


OOC Updates

12.11.2007 - Some time later, the journal finally gets an update with a new entry. Where's Stigma gone? Why's Valentine with her? Is Apathy really starting to feel like a... parent?
3.12.2006 - A new addition - not hallucination - arrives, and the Journal gets an entry + updates.
11.26.2006 - Apathetic finally takes his new meds, so a Journal-entry + updates happens.
11.11.2006 - A run-in with the law, an extra bit of possibly-illegal medication in his veins... Apathetic's not having a good week.
4.11.2006 - Apathy and Stigma have an... interesting encounter with a spork-throwing woman and her blue-green something-or-another.
2.11.2006 - The Guild is born! W00t! *throws confetti* The Journal is thus moved to the Guild; that is, everything below the Viscount's post is re-posted here. ^_^;
31.10.2006 - Stigma, er... goes through some changes. Apathy is duly disconcerted. o_O;
1.11.2006 - IC-Apathy notices that 'Stigma' seems to have gained a shadow, and a Journal-entry (and minor updates) are made.
31.10.2006 - IC-Apathy meets another 'patient' for the first time; a Journal-entry's added, and the RP can be found here.
28.10.2006 - The Journal is finished, formatted, and given its first entry, just in time for Apathetic to start seeing things.
27.10.2006 - Apathetic gets his pills, and the Journal gets a running start.


Timeline

[forthcoming]

And I don't know why

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

IC Updates

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

12.11.2007 - It's been a while since Stigma and Valen left, and I'm starting to think I shouldn't have been talking so much about 'seeing the world.' They call and all, but still... Dammit, I'm starting to feel like a DAD over here!!
3.12.2006 - You'd think I'd learn to let well enough alone, right? How am I gonna take care of another kid??
11.26.2006 - Well, I finally got guilted into taking that new medication; no weird effects so far, so fingers crossed...
11.11.2006 - They say that life is a roller-coaster, but I think I might be ready to get off... Why does this keep happening to me?!
04.11.2006 - Well, my car is wrecked, I'm dying at work, and a crazy woman threw sporks at me and chased me out of the casino.
How about you?
31.10.2006 - My hallucinations turned into a little girl. My life has to be somebody else's Saturday matinee.
31.10.2006 - So it goes like this: Put on meds > Seeing things > Rainbow gremlins > Seeing a strange shadow attached to them.
What kind of progression is this, again?
31.10.2006 - Well, okay. So I'm seeing little gremlin-things and all, but at least I'm not the only one... Is that good or bad?
28.10.2006 - One day on this stuff and I'm starting to see things! If it weren't for that stupid insanity-ruling...
27.10.2006 - Well, the court-order went through and now I'm on medication. AND I'm required to keep this 'journal,' because apparently I'm a lunatic and I didn't know it. Great.

I know, right now you can't tell

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Physostigmine

a.k.a. "Stigma"

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see

"Physostigmine (also known as eserine) is a parasympathomimetic, specifically, a reversible cholinesterase inhibitor obtained from the Calabar bean. By interfering with the metabolism of acetylcholine, physostigmine indirectly stimulates both nicotinic and muscarinic receptors.

"Because it is a tertiary amine, it can cross the blood-brain barrier and so it is also used to treat the central nervous system effects of atropine, scopolamine and other anticholinergic drug overdoses.

"Possible side effects include depression, delirium, waking delusions, an excess of R.E.M. sleep, and a hyper-sensitivity to light, sound, and movement.

"Overdose can cause a cholinergic syndrome, resulting in any or all of the following: Muscarinic effects are those of parasympathetic overactivity and include bradycardia, pinpoint pupils, sweating, blurred vision, cyspnoea, coughing, vomiting, tachycardia, hypertension, dilated pupils, muscle fasciculation and muscle weakness, agitation, psychosis, confusion, coma and seizures."

Uh...
Hm.
Okay...
It's kinda like she's all grown up, huh?
... Am I actually getting nostalgic?

Amobarbital


"Amobarbital is for injection into a muscle or into a vein. It is a barbiturate that slows down activity of the brain and nervous system. Amobarbital has both sedative and hypnotic properties which means it will help you to relax and sleep. Amobarbital can help produce relaxation and drowsiness before surgery. Amobarbital also can help reduce or control seizures (convulsions). It is not for the long-term control or prevention of seizures. Federal law prohibits the transfer of amobarbital to any person other than the patient for whom it was prescribed.

"Some side effects of overdose include confusion (severe); decrease in or loss of reflexes; drowsiness (severe); fever; irritability (continuing); low body temperature; poor judgment; shortness of breath or slow or troubled breathing; slow heartbeat; slurred speech; staggering; trouble in sleeping; unusual movements of the eyes; weakness (severe). Tolerance may develop with long-term or excessive use, making this drug less effective. Do not stop taking this drug without talking to your doctor, especially if you have been taking it for a long time. Stopping this drug suddenly can cause withdrawal symptoms (anxiousness, sleeplessness, and irritability).

"Sodium amobarbital has a reputation for having activity as a truth serum, where the person under the influence of the drug will submit to almost any request given by another person. This use has lost credibility due to the discovery that the patient can sometimes be made to have 'memories' of events that never happened."

An... umbrella?
Ooo~kay...
An inanimate object, now.
Hm.

A different side of me

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Apathetic

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired

Name: Apathetic Nonchalance (no, really.)
Age: Late teens, early twenties, somewhere around there.
Gender: Male

Appearance: Of average weight and slightly-taller-than-average height, his slightly-lanky build makes appear vaguely youthful, something like a teenager getting used to his new height, though his movements are usually confident and always decisive. He tends towards the darker colors, less because of personal tastes and more because it's easier to match them, and clothes that can stand up to some wear-and-tear.

Personality: Essentially easy-going, Apathetic has a surprisingly quick temper that flashes to the surface every now and then; although it rarely, if ever, makes him violent, he's prone to rash decisions and jumping to conclusions during his moments of irritation. At most times, though, he prefers to take things easy, living life one day at a time and not giving too much thought to either the future or the past; he enjoys the company of others at times, but may very well lock himself alone in his apartment for days on end if the incessant "company" gets to be too much of a hassle.

Background: He always says that there's not much to tell, and more-or-less that seems to be true. He had a typical up-scale life in Durem, with parents that - while dutiful to their son - were busy with their own, admittedly-successful, lives. It's not known if he has any siblings, but apparently Apathetic left home early, well out of reach of his parents' personal ambitions; apparently disappointed when their son left all of his training behind, they've made few appeals to re-establish contact. Apathetic doesn't seem much interested either, drifting around Gaia before finally settling on the Isle de Gambino, where he works the night-shift at Gold Mountain, patrolling the slots. He's also trying to quit smoking, which he has thus far been successful at for a little under two months.

Valentine, a TANT, was the first of his kind to come into
Apathetic's care-- Purely by accident, or so it seems.
He's easy-going and light-hearted, rarely getting riled up,
but sometimes he could stand to take things a little more seriously;
he's a bit lazy, and spends most of his time relaxing,
and evading actual work.

Telos, the most recent arrival, is a TANT as well... But that's where similarities to Valentine cease.
Apparently a very serious individual, Telos seems to act slightly aloof,
particularly where Valentine's concerned;
Apathetic is hoping this is just some form of sibling rivalry, and is grateful that Telos is
more reflective and less tiring overall than Valentine. Telos
does't talk much, but Stigma seems to think that it just means he needs a hug.

I know, right now you don't care

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Living-Space

But soon enough you're gonna think of me

Apathetic currently inhabits a smallish apartment on the Isle de Gambino, where he happens to work, so it's pretty much a matter of convenience. The rent's kind of pricey, but that's to be expected considering he's living on the island; at least it's within walking distance of the Casino, and it's definitely not the worst place he's ever lived.

Though it started out its life as a studio, the apartment has been modified by the previous tenant; from what Apathetic knows, that tenant moved out suddenly, but hey-- At least he left the modifications. It now has a bathroom and a tiny kitchen-area, which is just big enough to hold a sink, a stovetop, a small refrigerator, and a few cabinets, which themselves hold cookingware and so on. Whether or not there's actually any food in the place depends on whether or not Apathetic's gotten around to buying any, and on how many people have come over to leech off his supplies.

The rest of the apartment is pretty small, but given some semblance of space by a plaster wall that cuts the room in two, leaving the first half as a livingroom-type area and the second as a bedroom. A sliding paper-screen door closes off the bedroom, but the walls are pretty thin; at least Apathetic doesn't have any roommates.

The place is furnished in what's essentially bachelor-on-a-budget decor; he sleeps on a futon and eats standing up, unless he manages to clear some of his newspapers, magazines, and ecetera. He does have a few nice prints and some collector's-edition books, as well as assorted items that, on a closer look, are either rare, expensive, or high-quality, if not more than one. They're hidden in plain sight, though, and its assumed that they came from his life before the arrival on the island.

And how I used to be... me

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Items

Talking to myself in public

Pack of Cigarettes: Non-filtered. It's missing only a single cigarette, and is otherwise complete; having vowed some time ago to give up the habit, Apathetic finally managed to follow up on it for the past two months. He hasn't quite managed to throw the pack away, though, and justifies it as 'overcoming temptation.'

And dodging glances on the train

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

I know-- I know they've all been talking 'bout me

Past Forms



The pill-bottle. Right away, I should have known that something was wrong--
Why else would it be in a plain brown wrapper?



Those damned pills! And they looked so innocent... and normal!
... For some reason, now they remind me of an ex-girlfriend I used to know...



You know, except for the fact that they giggled incessently and followed me everywhere
and appeared at odd and disconcerting times...
The little spookies weren't that bad.



The weird shadow that appeared for a while, and right after Halloween!
It was kind of strange, but maybe Stigma has a sense of dramatic timing?


Art and Such

[none currently]

I can hear them whisper

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Quotes From the Role-Play

And it makes me think

He should have known it was a bad day when he woke up without his pants. ~ Journal, pg. 1


He was still a little unsteady on his feet, but he was willing to bet he could still regurgitate last night's drinks all over Cop #2's shiny black shoes. ~ Journal, pg. 1


"... We, the court, hereby declare the defendant, Apathetic Nonchalance, to be mentally unsound..."

"WHAT?!"

"... and thus unfit to stand trial. He will be released upon agreeing to adhere to the medication provided by the attending physician."

"You can't be serious!" blurted out Apathetic, slamming a palm down on the polished-darkwood desk before him. "I'm not crazy, I was just drunk!" ~ Journal, pg. 1


"Oh dear god," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and rubbing them. "They're multiplying." ~ "Hallucination Fun!" RP thread, pg. 1


"Look, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," he began apologetically, "but it's just that I've been taking these meds lately, and I dunno, maybe they're just not sitting well with me... I've been having these weird, uh, well, suffice to say I probably need to get my eyes checked, and I just wanted to know if you could see that green thing at your feet. Which is apparently a Nexi. Um." ~ "Hallucination Fun!" RP thread, pg. 1


Having had enough of whatever it was doing, Nexi wandered over to Apathetic stare at him and then simply lay out on the grass, one of his legs and half his head disappearing rather oddly into the soil. ~ "Hallucination Fun!" RP thread, pg. 1


"I guess I see what you mean. It's kinda like having smarter-than-average pets, or very strange children-- Except you don't have to feed them." ~ "Hallucination Fun!" RP thread, pg. 2

"It's probably not a good sign to feel as though your hallucinations are mocking you, is it? " Journal, pg. 2

There must be something wrong with me

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Misc.

Out of all the hours, thinking

[none yet]

Somehow, I've lost my mind

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Credits

I've been talking in my sleep

All official concepts and art pertaining to The Happy Home are c Viscount Greenleaf.

Any other art found in this Journal is c to their respective creator/s.

The lyrics used on the first page are from "Unwell," which is c Matchbox 20.

The banners were made by Apathetic (which is to say, me).

Pretty soon they'll come to get me

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

Yeah, they're taking me away

 

[Apathetic Nonchalance]

The (Not-So-) Sordid Story

(Sorry to disappoint!)

He should have known it was a bad day when he woke up without his pants.

Oh, all right... That, in and of itself, didn't make it a bad day. After all, pantslessness was sometimes a good... a VERY good thing, under the proper circumstances, but this particular instance... Well, there were several things about his current situation that clued his preternaturally-sharp senses in on something being wrong.

First, and most obviously, was the pantslessness. He typically wore boxers to bed, and so there was one strike against this being a normal morning.

Two, he wasn't on his futon. Sometimes people objected to his futon, said that sleeping on a mattress on the floor was just as bad as sleeping on the floor, but Apathy himself had always found it sufficient, plus he'd read somewhere that it was good for your back. This morning, though, had left him feeling as though he were lying on cold, hard tiling... Really cold, as his pants weren't the only articles of clothing that seemed to have deserted him. When he managed to pry open his eyes, which were immediately assaulted by the overhead florescent lights, he saw that his futon was indeed absent, leaving naught but cold, hard tiling to cushion his remarkably unclothed body-- which, on second glance, appeared to be draped in a sheet. For a panicked moment, he thought he might have been mistaken for dead and taken to the morgue, but a brief - and agonizing - glance around him quickly dismissed that theory, in favor of one that was (if possible) even worse.

For "Thirdly," apparently, was the police-presence, a pair of blue-uniformed police-officers standing above him, discreetly meeting his blurry gaze. One had his arms crossed, the other had his hands on his hips, and Apathetic felt his stomach sink.

"Now that you're awake," said the first officer, who seemed to have seniority, "we recommend that you sit up, tell us who you are, and try to explain why you danced about in this fine Safeway without a stitch of clothing on."

"We'll try not to laugh until you finish," chimed in the younger cop, who obviously thought he was being all witty and TV-worthy. Apathetic, about to explain that Jerry Bruckheimer would never, ever make Cop #2 the star of his latest Law-and-Order ripoff, was suddenly caught off-guard by his stomach performing a triple barrel-roll in tandem with the left hemisphere of his brain. Apathetic shut his mouth in an attempt to keep his innards from becoming outtards, waited a moment or two for them to settle down, then managed to croak, "Sure. But first, I'm going to crawl over to the pharmacy..."

* * *

An hour or so later, Apathetic was seated at the police-station, now wearing most of the clothes they'd found scattered across the supermarket. The pants weren't his, though-- He hadn't the vaguest idea where those had gotten off to, so he was now wearing his dark grey sweater and zip-up boots with a brightly-colored pair of swim-trunks, which he'd bought at the supermarket when the cops had insisted he go straight with them. The trunks were bedecked with a bright pink flamingo under a smiling yellow sun, and after an hour of repeating whatever he could remember to the officers across the table, Apathetic was starting to long for the beach. He'd never liked sand, and the thought of what was in seawater these days made him do his swimming in the pool, but he'd have given anything to be at the beach just then, rather than in this tiny room with two suspicious cops, who were staring blankly at them as though not comprehending a word he said. At least at the beach his shorts would blend in.

Well, maybe. They were pretty loud shorts.

"So let me get this straight," said Cop #1, massaging his temples; "You don't remember walking into the store, announcing yourself as 'The Cousin's Neighbor's Brother's Girlfriend's Third Uncle Twice Removed to The King,' and proceeding to remove your clothing and do "The Locomotion" around the grounds?"

'That sounds worse every time he says it,' winced Apathetic, although all he said aloud was, "That's right, officer... All I remember is going out with some friends, having some drinks... Okay, maybe more than a few, but anyway there were drinks, then driving around town really really fast for kicks... Not that I was drunk or anything," he added quickly, remembering that he was talking to the police. "Or that, you know, we were speeding... Or doing anything otherwise illegal. And then... Poof, I'm waking up on the floor of the supermarket."

"Riiiiiiiight..." drawled Cop #2, and Apathetic fought down the urge to do... something that would probably get him even more arrested. He was still a little unsteady on his feet, but he was willing to bet he could still regurgitate last night's drinks all over Cop #2's shiny black shoes. "Let's just remember, Mister... Nonchalance, that we've got a dozen-plus witnesses who can identify the time of your arrival... And they can definitely identify you."

"Look, maybe I had a little too much to drink, but it's not like I killed anyone!" defended Apathy, mentally adding 'That I know of...' I mean, c'mon, sometimes you just do stuff, which you would know if you did stuff besides shining your shoes and perfecting the creases in your uniform!" The younger cop went red as the older cop took control of the conversation, drawing Apathetic's glower to himself by clearing his throat with a cough.

"Still, Mister Nonchalance, we're thinking maybe this is a little more serious than you make of it. After all, you said yourself that you don't know what you were doing... Someone could have gotten hurt."

"But nobody did."

"You ruined quite a bit of the Safeway's business."

"I'll pay for whatever their losses were."

"Poor Mrs. Erickson isn't able to pass a Safeway without fainting these days. She was shopping for her eighty-seventh birthday dinner."

"I'm really sorry, but..."

"Don't worry, Mister Nonchalance," said Cop #1, who was carefully keeping his voice in that soothing monotone you use with young children, slow adults, and skittish carnivorous beasts. "You'll have your chance to defend yourself in court. I'm sure they'll give you a fair trial."

* * *

"... We, the court, hereby declare the defendant, Apathetic Nonchalance, to be mentally unsound..."

"WHAT?!"

"... and thus unfit to stand trial. He will be released upon agreeing to adhere to the medication provided by the attending physician."

"You can't be serious!" blurted out Apathetic, slamming a palm down on the polished-darkwood desk before him. "I'm not crazy, I was just drunk!" He turned angrily to his attorney, who shrugged.

"May I remind you that this is a court-appointed order? If you don't go along with it, then they've got enough to charge you... Petty misdemeanors, but still enough to make you do some jail-time. You feel up for County?"

Apathetic glared, but while his heart was in it, his rational mind - which had, after all this time, finally cleared up again - pointed out that his useless public attorney was right: It was either this or accept the sentence, and he didn't have enough to afford the bail. Swearing that one day, he'd hunt down everyone who'd been with him at the bar and bury them up to their necks in the sand of the Sierra Madre, he forced himself to calm down and nod, teeth grinding, in agreement to the judge's call. The gavel came down simultaneously with the judge's impersonal "Case dismissed!" and Apathetic was hustled out of the courtroom to fill out the necessary paperwork.

* * *

In another hour, Apathetic was home, sprawled in an ungainly manner on the couch that occupied nearly all of his 'living room.' How, he asked himself, had things gotten so thoroughly screwed up in the course of a single night? Why hadn't he noticed when he'd started getting completely wasted? What had possessed him to choose The Locomotion, of all things? Not a single answer was coming to him, although the questions themselves kept piling up, and soon enough he dropped to sleep under the weight of all the uncertainty. Well, and the anger, too.

When he awoke, it was nearly ten at night, the sun having long since set, and his apartment was in darkness. He lay there for a few more moments, watching the flickering, glowing numbers of the digital clock, then pulled himself upright and hit the lights. Most of them flicked on with no trouble, though the lightbulb over the door had burned out weeks ago-- Making a mental note to do something about it, Apathetic staggered into the bathroom, where he splashed water on his face until he was coherent again.

Looking into the mirror, he shook his head at his reflection, an expression of faint disgust on his face. Man, somehow he'd managed to make a mess of things... And this time without meaning to do so. His hand automatically went to his pocket, where that mostly-unused pack of cigarettes was resting against his leg; he encountered, instead, the smooth cylindrical plastic of a pill-bottle, and rolled his eyes as he withdrew the container from his pocket. Plain white, rolled in a brown label that simply read "Physostigmine"... Didn't even list the dosage, although he'd been told to take it regularly three times a day. Popping the cap open, he shook one of the pills out into his hand; it was black and blue, which would have seemed vaguely ominous had the blue part not been closer to turquoise than anything else. It seemed innocuous enough, and even as he muttered "I can't believe I'm doing this..." he was running the tap to fill a drinking-glass. Tilting his head back, he dropped the capsule into his mouth, chasing it down with the water; the pill itself was tasteless, and Apathetic quickly forgot about it as he vowed to never drink anything stronger than tapwater again.