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Topic: Psyche's Tale of Misery and Woe

A few notes before this story starts.

One, the tone of this story, as you might be able to see from the title, is very VERY dark. Don't expect happy sunshine. This is the angst in Psyche's story that I can't put in the regular RP.

Two, the events in this story do not correspond to the general PG-13 rating of the general RP. References to very unpleasant and potentially triggering things will be unspoiled here (though I will attempt to tag each segment with trigger tags so you can skip past and read the next part if you wish, please let me know if I've missed something, I would hate to accidentally actually trigger my readers). Read at your own risk.

Three, Psyche has some serious issues in her past that has culminated in her doing some very inexcusable actions. These actions will be explored over the course of this story. I as the author do not condone Psyche's actions, nor do I attempt to rationalize them. These are the products of a twisted and abused mind, and only now is she really seeing the effects of her former life.

So, now that I have warned you of any problems you may encounter, are you sure you want to continue reading? If not, please leave now. If so, you have been warned. Enjoy. Or at least, try to.



Day One: Nimbasa Hospital (tw: Suicide Mention)

These are the recordings of Dr. John Mitchell, PhD, transcribed. These stories recollect the very sad story of a young lady by the name of Caroline Davis, referred in the transcripts as "Psyche".

Dr. Mitchell: So tell me more, Miss Davis, about how you came to the Psychology Department of Nimbasa Hospital.

Psyche: ~You know why I'm here, asshole.~

Dr. Mitchell: Language, Miss Davis.

Psyche: ~English, Doctor.~

Dr. Mitchell: Sarcasm is not helpful, Miss Davis, please, continue.

Psyche: ~Fine. I'm here because my brother found me about to jump from our house. Happy?~

Dr. Mitchell: I'm happy you managed to survive. A young lady like yourself has so much to live for.

Psyche: ~Oh, if you only knew. Oh... If you only knew.~

Dr. Mitchell: Please, enlighten me.

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Re: Psyche's Tale of Misery and Woe

Day One: Nimbasa Hospital (TW: Suicide, rape mention)

Psyche: ~So, I guess I have to tell you what led up to me standing on the roof, looking down at the cold hard ground, and almost jumping.~

Dr. Mitchell: "That would be helpful for your recovery, yes."

Psyche: ~Then let us begin.~

The Night Before - Psyche's Family Home.

Psyche looks down at the ground. Well, I'm finally doing something to improve the world.

She sits on the ledge and ponders for a moment. It's for the best. After all, what have I done with my life? I've been a pickpocket, a con, a slut, a whoremonger, a murderer, and a rapist. Not necessarily in the physical sense... But given my experiences I really should know better... It's for the best. I don't have anyone who would miss me. Even Sarah hates me now. ... It's for the best. She stands and turns, when suddenly!

Dick: "CAROLINE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? GET DOWN FROM THERE." He sends out his Braviary and nods to get her down from there.

Psyche violently attacks the Braviary, screaming mentally. ~ NO, I HAVE TO DO THIS, IT'S FOR THE BEST, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW-~ Suddenly her foot slips and she falls, gulping and relaxing for the impact... Which she does, but with the Braviary. Psyche blacks out.

Day One - Nimbasa Hospital

Dr. Mitchell: That's definitely interesting. In future sessions, we'll have to explore more about your motives.

Psyche clutches her legs. ~I don't want to. I don't want to do anything. Why didn't I die there?

Dr. Mitchell pats Psyche's head. "I don't know. But that's what we'll determine over the next few days."

3 (edited by Psyche 2014-08-01 03:31:52)

Re: Psyche's Tale of Misery and Woe

Nimbasa City - 5 years ago (TW: Rape, child pornography mention)

A roughly 13 year old, barely pubescent Psyche stumbles out of a run down house, dress patchy, tears streaming down her face, desperately looking for some food.


She lands in the hands of a man about 12 years her senior. "Hey, what's wrong, kid?"

Psyche shakes her head and clutches her neck, trying to signal that she can't talk. "Ah, fuck kid, I don't have a pen and paper to write with."

Psyche cries. She signs desperately.

The man shrugs. "Don't know USL, sweetheart. Do you need some food? A place to stay?"

Psyche nods frantically.

He grins. "I think I might know where you can stay, then. Name's William Z. Bubbe, but most people call me Bill."

Psyche brightens and hugs him.

Three days later, basement somewhere.

Psyche curls up in a ball, chains around her feet. Why would it make sense to waste chains on a girl with a metal brace on one leg? It's not like I'm getting out of here quietly.

Bill comes downstairs. "Hey, kid, got another video soon. Arceus, you're gonna make me rich. A loli drops in my lap that can't say no or fight back? The legends are shining on me now."

Psyche shakes her head and looks up with pleading eyes. "Oh, don't give me that, you little slut. You know you fucking want it. After all, who'd want a cripple like you if I wasn't fixing you up."

Psyche looks down, defeated.