SOMETHING IS NOT QUITE RIGHT HERE
In the midst of Victorian England, something is happening. Asylums, which had always been more like a sick, cruel, zoo of the mentally ill, are starting to reform to more "humane" methods of treatment. Patients have been unchained and de-caged, and are even being fed and bathed daily!
At the center of this humanitarian reform, lies the crown jewel of Victorian asylums: Avalon. What goes on behind closed doors, few know. Even so, conditions are said to be favourable, and soon, patients from around the world are flocking to Avalon Asylum.
They say three patients are cured a day! But no one ever leaves Avalon.
Welcome to Not Quite Right: A Victorian Asylum Hetalia AU!
Support Staff: 2
Application Bans: Doctors [CLOSED],Nurses [OPEN], Guards [OPEN], Patients [OPEN]
The date is April 1850
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Last 10 Posts [ In reverse order ]
|Dr. Aurora Williams
||Posted on May 5 2011, 03:04 AM
|| Your application to Avalon Asylum has been received and ACCEPTED.
Vuk Drašković has been assigned to Cell Block B. Your name will be added to the floorplan shortly.
Your assigned doctor is Dr. Adrianija Curkovic.
Welcome to Avalon Asylum.
We wish you a swift recovery.
[[I'm suepr lame and behind on adminning atm but when everything get's updated your cell may change. Sorry D:
HAVE FUN HERE THOUGH~
||Posted on May 4 2011, 12:26 AM
|VUK DRAŠKOVIĆ Maybe you’re not there anymore.
Maybe there is hope.
Maybe you’re not thinking about me either.
But I’m waiting for the day, where we are looking to go.
Name: Vuk Drašković
Birthday: June 5th
Nation of Origin: Serbia
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Height: 6'2" / 188cm
Weight: 196lbs / 89kgs
Hair: Messy chocolate-brown locks with bangs somewhat swept to the side.
Eyes: Wild, light russet brown eyes.
Body: Somewhat lean and stocky, yet starting to get on the chubby side. It’s obvious that he’s worked outside for the majority of his life—strong upper-body muscles, mussed hair, and rough, tanned skin. He would actually be thinner if he didn’t love a hearty home-cooked meal as much as he does.
Unique Traits: None, save for the gold rings he has in each ear. Vuk is really just your average Serbian male.
Admitted: April 1850
Admittance Type: Forced.
Incident: A series of events ending in violence and occasional brutal death.
Specifics: Acts out in fits of gore and hostility when angered, yet does what he thinks is “right”. Never seems to have an actual cause. Has seriously hurt few and murdered many, including his flock of sheep and the sudden disappearance of his wife and infant son. It can only be assume that the patient is at fault.
Please check off any of the following that you had on your personal at the time of admission to Avalon Asylum:
[ ] Glasses
[x] Jewlery – a pair of gold earrings and a woman’s ring.
[x ] Wallet
[ ] Personal Photos
[ ] Journal/Notebook
[ ] Other
These things will be submitted to your doctor for evaluation and will either be returned to you or withheld until your discharge.
Loud, proud, obnoxious, and arrogant right off the bat, Vuk can seem like quite a handful. Being stubborn never really helped him any, either! With everything making him seem as childish as he is (which he definitely is) it’s all really just a façade he puts up so people can’t see how soft he can really be. Beneath that rough exterior is a friendly man that never really had the chance to grow up. Due to that reason, he’s become obsessed with the idea of having a real family—even if he was forced to marry someone he greatly disliked. Just make sure to not get on his bad side and he’ll treat you like a brother!
Due to past events his heart has hardened, causing that fiery spirit to lash out at those around him in some of the most violent of ways. People who mistreat what they should hold dear really itch at his nerves and he’ll punish those who he think needs it, no matter the situation… yet each of the ones he saw to punish mistreated their wives and children. Could it be that he’s really just punishing himself?
Being a country boy also has affected his outward personality, giving him a conservative look on life and a horrid speech tick (which speaking a whole new language didn’t help). What alcohol can’t fix, a knife sure can. Make fun of the way he talks and he’ll be sure to make sure you can’t speak perfect English either.
Parents: Gavrilo & Mira Drašković
Other Relatives: Andrijana Ćurcović, wife; Drazen Drašković, son
Growing up in a war was hard. Times were tough—a harsh childhood was common for a lot of the folk in Srbija. Its people talked of independence, the spread of even more violence terrorizing the young Serb’s home. A poor farming family didn’t stand much of a chance, yet his father set out to help the fight, leaving a bristling Vuk at home with a mother who spoke of “combining families” between the kingdoms. He loathed how he was to wed when he should be out with his father to separate the nation from Turkey, yet he saw how his mother looked when she passed glances with another man.
That man had been the father of a young and lovely Croatian girl—but Croatian? Why them? Why must they talk of marriage? They set him with the noble family’s daughter against his consent. Of course it was common, but his broken pride and a stubborn heart kept the young lad from wishing to even look at her. A farmer’s boy and the snooty rich girl. How wonderful.
Yet he found her to be just as beautiful as she boasted! How he could not seem to ever tell her so, even in the long, never-ending years of them living together burned inside him almost as much as his hatred. They would argue and bicker and break the priceless valuables they owned in their anger, and oh! how he hated how he was stuck to someone who valued themselves higher than he! But… as much as he disliked her, his heart seemed to soften in her presence. He would hold her close regardless of how brash and violent they had been but moments before and treat her as he should… even if it never went very far.
And what joy did it bring! Through patience and hard work he was given a son, and he was the happiest he could have ever been—albeit how difficult it was to outwardly show it. The man now thought that the marriage could finally be a pleasant one… until little Drazen’s life was claimed by a terrible accident. Stricken with pain and guilt, he and Andrijana pointed fingers at eachother in hopes to ease their heavy hearts, but all that managed to do was tear them farther apart. What made it worse was how his woman left him, right then and there! Disappeared overnight with all of her belongings in tow.
Save for one thing.
A ring… a single gold ring that she had forgotten, the old and beaten thing being left astray and alone. The only thing left that was hers. The only thing left that belonged to him.
The broken man kept it close, wearing her ring every day, refusing to take it off. Just the feeling of it wrapped around his finger reminded him of a past love… a family. Happiness. What he’d never have again. And so he broke even further, reminding himself of his own mistakes! He would slaughter his flock, frequently visit the tavern inland—even going as far as to beat those who mistreated what they had! But of course, he’d never admit his reasons behind such a thing. Who would when they still clung to the pride that kept their hearts aflame?
Why the fuck was he here again? The Serb grunted in annoyance as two burly men shoved him forward, stumbling upon himself with a grumble. His business was his own. They had no right to keep him here. The fact that they even bothered to send him to an institute at all was a pain in itself. What he did deserved at least an execution, yet his newly-independent home sent him off to the fucking Brits for help.
Tch, but who needed help at all? He wasn’t crazy.
There was a difference between insanity and unadulterated anger, wasn’t there?
The man smirked at himself in spite, brows furrowed. How silly this all was. None of this would have happened if he treated them better. If he told her how much he loved her… if Drazen was still alive.
An elbow to the ribs snapped him out of concentration and some English was spat at him as if expecting him to understand, causing him to bare his teeth in another growl. Yet obviously he didn’t do what was told and they shoved him forward once more, tearing away the leather wallet from his back pocket. Before he could shout out a stream of curses, then men’s hands began to search his entire body, patting around and shoving hands where they should never go upon another male, and Vuk kicked out in fury and confusion.
After managing to pluck the gold from his ears, the ruffians finally backed off… until one saw the sparkle upon a single finger. His ring finger. They lunged at his hand without a second thought and the Serb couldn’t help but scream, kicking and threatening horrid deaths upon the two of them.
They couldn’t take that away! It was hers! They couldn’t! They won’t!
Never, ever, ever! He’ll kill them before they ever get the fucking chance!
And so the brunette managed to get an arm free, reaching up to snap one of the guard’s noses to the side before punching, kicking, screaming, anything to get away… anything to keep them from taking the one thing that kept him from finally becoming what they already claimed him to be. They won’t take that harlot’s ring and they won’t take what little of sanity he has left… not now, not ever.
Taylor I turn 21 on the seventeenth of June.
Country of Residence: The United States of Butthole (jaykay but not really)
Time Zone: Central (-6)
Experience: E-err… quite a long time? I don’t know the exact amount of years, but with Hetalia it’s been nearly three or four.
Have you read the PATIENT GUIDE?
Patient Guide Rule Code: blue racecar
Have you read the RULES and agree to abide?:
Rule Code Here: bowtie