[extraterrestrial]

So this guy/gal is loosely based on an asylum patient.
As you can see they have a lot of accesories that can represent insanity yet their design could have been anything.
I am honestly even prouder of this baby than I am of RIn's Sister and I wanted to keep her </3
I sadly cannot keep any of the designs I have made as I already have a custom...but enough sadness and back onto the topic of this sexy JMD

-Details-
Purple Jewel
Leather wrist restraints
Broken handcuff around tail
Lip hoop + Stud
Ear hoop + stud
6 Contected hoops on wings
Key to the cells at his/her old asylum
Asylum Patient Tag #121


-Contest-
This will be a form Contest.
I want to see some really good forms for this babe so you will have a while to do them
Unlimited Extras
You must have...
Username
Name
Gender
Age
Story about Escaping the Asylum that MUST include getting a rusty silver key that unlocks everyhting in the asylum
At least 2 pieces of Art
1 piece of Art representing insanity and sanity using this one JMD
Why were they in an asylum?
Minimum 6 Entry journal about being in an asylum

Please remember if you draw them in their cell they will not have the key and the shackle wouldn't be broken

-End Date-
Undecided but you will have awhile, won't be before the end of the month

[tomatotomato]

Usᴇʀɴᴀᴍᴇ;; Dʀɪᴢᴢʟᴇ., but call me Tomato

I walk a lonely road
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
When the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me
'til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines
What's [censored] up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me
'til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, aaah-ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah

I walk alone
I walk a...

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
When the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me
'til then I walk alone...

Nᴀᴍᴇ;; Fractos Sompnos
Pʀᴏɴᴜɴᴄɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ;; [FRACK-tose SAWMP-nose]
Oʀɪɢɪɴ;; Latin
Mᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ;; Broken Dreams

Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs;; Fractos , Patient #121 [most common]

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ;; Male
Aɢᴇ;; Believed to be 21
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ;; Straight


|ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs|

Patient #121 does not like to exploit himself to others,
he keeps a tight reign on his image and is quiet in his doings.


|ᴘʟᴀɪɴᴛɪᴠᴇ|

[ElementStar]

Dropping .m.

MAJOR WIP

Username:
ElementStar

Name:
Saeko Nox Insani

Why these names:
Saeko is pronounced very similarly to psycho.
Nox is the Greek goddess of night and chaos.
Insani is Latin word for insane.

So, her name could translate to the following:
Psycho Chaos Insane

Gender:
Female

Age:
She is unwilling to tell, though she is a young adult.

Story about Escaping the Asylum that MUST include getting a rusty silver key that unlocks everything in the asylum:
Don't be afraid, not yet.

I was trapped in that cursed asylum for years, planning my escape.

I was admitted as a teenager. There was a bit of confusion seeing as I had no mental issues or trauma of some sort. However, one thing was definite: I was a murderer. I had killed my family when I should have been sleeping.
WIP

At least 2 pieces of Art:
WIP

1 piece of Art representing insanity and sanity using this one JMD:

Why were they in an asylum?
She witnessed a murder and lives were placed in her hands to either save or destroy.
She chose destroy.

Saeko was not the original murderer that night. She awoke to pitiful screams from her mother, but the screams stopped before she reached her. When Saeko arrived, her eyes widened as they reflected the pools of blood surrounding thelimo bodies of her mother and father.
WIP

Minimum 6 Entry journal about being in an asylum:

I finally did it. Isn't it wonderful? I did it.
I attacked one of the wards and stole their journal and a pencil.

WIP


Extras~


What do you see in her design?
WIP

What does she see in her dreams?
WIP

Friends and Enemies:

Friends~
[url][/url]
[url][/url]
[url][/url]

Enemies~
[url][/url]
[url][/url]
[url][/url]

Admittance File:
WIP

[biyondo basudei.]

Part A.1. - Information About You
1. Complete Last Name

Makos

2. First Name

Angelina

3. Middle Name

Grace

4. What other names have you used
(include maiden name and aliases)?

Khsyfez Koln Zheles. You must
call me by this.

5. Residence in the U.S. (where you
psychically reside)

I live in an orphanage in L.A. as
of now.. but I need to be an asylum.
Now.

6. Gender

☐Male ☑ Female

7. Marital Status

☑ Single ☐ Married ☐ Divorced
☐ Widowed

8. Date of Birth (mm/dd/yyyy) & Age

Im not sure -- perhaps August
29th, 1936? I think thats correct. Im
about 14 years old... well, thats what
I believe, at least.

9. City and Country of Birth

Arvin, California, USA.

10. Race, Ethnic or Tribal Group

Caucasian.

11. Religion

Athiest. If there really was a God
he wouldnt have put me throughxxxx
what I have been through.

12. What is your native language
(include dialect, if applicable)?

English.

13. Are you fluent in English?

☑ Yes ☐ No

Part B.1 - Information About Your Application
1. Why are you applying for the asylum?
Check the appropriate box(es) below
and then provide detailed answers to
questions A and B below.
I am seeking for asylum help for the
following reasons:

● Insomniac/sleeping issuesxxxx
● Schizophrenia
● Speaking to the dead and
invisible/fake "friends"
● Seeing and believing in things
that aren't there
● Depression

2. In detail, explain each of your
reasons and tell us about them. What
happens when you feel like this?
What do you do? How do you feel?

For my insomnia, what
happens is that I start to feel
either really sick or my other
problems like schizophrenia and
talking to the dead really begin to
act up. I dont like this problem, but
its not the worst of them, so Im
not too concerned about it.
For my schizophrenia, well..
I talk to my friends. Theyre my
only friends. Their names are
Luin, who is a male. He doesnt
have a body or a face -- he's just a
mass of black. He does talk to me,
though, and tells me that Philip
is waiting. I know he wants me to
kill myself, because thats what he
thrives for, cause Ive learned hes
a demon. But I ignore him. Then
there is Lit, whos a girl, and has a
JMD body figure but no markings,
eyes, face, a jewel, shes just pure
light greyish brown. She smiles at
me all the time and I can practically
see blood dripping from her muzzle.
She's the one who puts me into a
bloodlust state of mind. Then I go
crazy. Then theres the normal one,
who has no name. He's grayish in
color, tinged slightly blue, with navy
blue and red markings. He's pretty,
and his eyes are a very dark red.
He talks to me all the time and keeps
me company -- like right now hes
watching me as I write, and telling
me what I should say. He didnt put
that in there, but its funny... I can
feel his touches against my face and
he's done some pretty terrible things
to me that I cant mention. He's very
good at seduction. He touches me a
lot, and whispers things to me. Ive..
also.. talked to Philip before. This isnt
a part of schizophrenia, but.. Ive talked
to him, and hes talked to me. Ive also
talked to my victims and I can hear the
people in this asylum who have died
here. You're not keeping secrets from
me. I have the sixth sense, sorry.
When Im in a state of depression,
the friends act up and start hurting me.
I cry a lot, and tend to snap every once
in a while..and kill people.

3. For these issues, are you taking
any medication, drugs, etc.?

No. Well, maybe thats a lie..I
have taken medication before, and I
did overdose on it on purpose. My
friend was helping me with it, and she
had hid it, but I snuck in and got some.
I wound up in the hospital with a lung
infection, for some God awful reason,
and I almost died. So I gave up on
drugs, but my depression got worse,
so I needed to submit this.

4. Because of these problems, have you
ever hurt or killed someone else?

Yes. Well, I havent killed them during
this time, but I killed them, and that triggered
something.. I killed a few of the enemies,
and that sort of made everything turn to
hell. After that I got sadder, and even though
I tried not to show it, depression washed over
me. I also killed.. him.. I.. couldnt save him
in time, and he died because of me. Im so
sorry, Philip..

5. In detail, describe what you have done
before to cope with these issues.

Ive written in a journal, and no, you cant
read it. Ive also talked to the spirits, and my
friends, but they dont help much. Ive taken
drugs and medication, but it didnt help much.

6. Please include all identification photos here.

By iShame
By beyond birthday.
By beyond birthday.
By beyond birthday.
Sane & Insane by beyond birthday.

Thank you, ma'am/sir. Your form will be carefully
consider your form, and if it is accepted, we will
send you back a email with the address and directions
included. The wait wont be long -- please consider
other options, just incase. Thank you, and have a
nice day.

Signed,
Khsyfez Zheles.

June 27th, 1950. Journal entry 1.

Today has been a terrible day.
They called me today and told me about the Korean War and told me I needed to come to base camp, now. I left home with only what I needed, my uniform on, and 3 pictures of my family in my hat. Theyre still there now, strapped on carefully so I dont loose them on accident. One of them is of my mother and father with me, the other of my whole family, and the other of my baby brother who sadly, died a few days after birth.
Once I got to base camp, there was a cargo plane there, for shipping over supplies. It all looked like we were going to have to fit in it, though -- all 150 of us. The Sargent handed me a journal, with a graphite pencil, and smiled at me, telling me good luck. That was literally the nicest thing I ever heard out of his mouth, and held it with me as long as I could.
Right now Im writing on the plane. The pilot said we are awfully close, but I dont know whether to trust him or not. All the other people are talking so loud, and its giving me a terrible headache.

July 1st, 1950. Journal entry 2.

The past few days havent been that great, but I guess ill get used to the ration food. Its pretty disgusting, with the dehydrated graham crackers and liquid peanut butter. The only good thing is the foot long Tootsie Rolls, but quite honestly, they should ship them out before they go stale. They'd taste better that way.
The past few days have been peaceful. We've only fought once, and then I was on night shift, so I was stuck inside while they fought. The boys told me to stay inside, so I listened to them, and tried not to cry as I listened to my friends scream out in pain.
Only one has died, though, so I suppose thats a good thing.
On the other hand, the cards here are pretty cool. They are different from standard cards, and you play a different game with them. Ive learned it pretty well -- not saying that im good at it or anything, but at least I know how to play it.
On the boys free time, they teach me how to carve. Since Im a woman, they dont send me out as much, but I have more free time to myself.
I carved an arrow yesterday, with my friends help.
Anyways, Im out for now.

July 5th, 1950. Journal Entry 3.

Today wasnt good, at all. The UN was defeated, despite them telling us it was going to be an easy victory.
Ill go through it.
They woke us up at 2 in the morning, telling us the plan and screaming at our faces to win. We were then lined up, equiped with swords and I was given an bayonet, a gun. It was heavy, and with all my gear on my back as well, everything must have weighed at the least 40 pounds in all. I was only 122 pounds, so it hurt to walk miles with it on my back.
I remember my boots digging into the wet mud, and my hair sticking to my face, and my chest. My pictures were still in my hat, and I tapped the top of it gently, feeling a smile creep onto my face.
We walked miles before we came to Osan, and I can still feel my legs aching from the long walk from base to form the wall. Once we were there, though, they stood us in lines and we made 5 lines in total. We stood at attention, with our bayonets at our sides, and our hands on the hilts of our swords. I stood still for hours, and I remember some people around me flinching when the North Koreans ran at us.
I was in the 2nd row, pretty far up, so I was one of the ones who was ordered to charge first. I remember the Generals screaming charge, and galloping forwards on horses. I remember my boots hitting the mud, and I remember pulling up to the front of the line and almost getting shot. I aimed my gun at a group of North Koreans, and fired, shooting at least 6 of them and killing 3. I remember the feeling was somewhat terrible, while on the other hand, it made me happy to be protecting my country.
But I didnt kill with nothing in return.
2 bullets grazed by my left leg, puncturing my muddy camouflage outfit and opening 2 wounds in my skin. Luckily they didnt bury so I didnt have to worry about taking them out, but I remember the warm blood running down my leg. I hopped and shot 2 other North Koreans before I fell, and felt everything go black.
I woke up at base, and I was told that the North Koreans had defeated us. I had my tent-mates surrounding me, and they sang songs, and told me stories from when they were back at home. When I finally found the strength to look down, I was met with the sight of a bloody bandage and the pictures of my family in my fingers.
I felt one of the boys who was sitting next to me, named Philip, nudge my head up again so I wasnt looking at my leg. He was the one who had jumped in to save me when I fell, and hes the one that carried me back here.
Weve been the closest of friends since boot camp.
He's sitting next to me, watching me as I write.
I think thats it for today.

[ Entries from July 5th to September 16th are scribbled out. After close examination, weve found that they were mainly about her and Philip. ]

September 16th, 1950. Journal entry 4.

I need to write.
I need to write, now.
Today everyone died.
Im literally sitting in a bath of blood around me.
I can literally feel everything clicking inside of me, so I need to write this, fast, so I can write my feelings while Im still sane.
Today, the Chinese charged at us, and I was in a ditch with at least 200 others. All I remember is digging a hole when they told me to, and I remember curling up in it and crying as I listened to everyone scream in pain.
I could literally feel blood against the dirt. My eyes welled with tears, and I can still feel my stiff muscles from laying in the ditch the whole time. After hours, or hours it seemed like, I pulled myself out of the ditch and my eyes instantly laid on Philip, and I crawled towards him. Many people were still alive and walking around, trying to find survivors. I laid down next to Philip and pulled him up into my arms. Even though he was heavier than me I found the strength.
He was breathing, but very shallow. I gently laid him down over by the wood at the wall, and took my pack off my back, laying it under his head and then covering him with my jacket. I ripped my shirt off, leaving me only with a bra, and laid it around his neck. I didnt care what I looked like -- if he was going to die, he was going to die peacefully.
I laid down next to him and buried my head in the crest of his neck, resting my hands over his arms. There was nothing I could do about the wounds. There were too many, and too deep. He'd die slower if I took them out.
I whispered poems into his ear, and told him about the happy times. I remember his small and weak smiles as I told him about my friends, and his friends, and us spending time at the beach.
And when I heard him take his last breaths, in unison, we both whispered a choked "I love you."
And with that, he was.. gone.
I left my stuff there and only brought my journal and sword with me, and I could feel everything inside of me shifting.
And now, I sit, in the middle of everything, staring.
Ill see you at the asylum, eh?

October 7th, 1950. Journal entry 5.

Well, I ran to the nearest army base there was and typically screamed at them I needed to leave here, now. All the idiots just stared at me because I was half naked and it made me feel sick. They didnt say anything about it, though, and Im glad they didnt because they wouldve been down in a second. I still have my gun on me, you know.
They asked me where I wanted to go and what happened to make me what to leave here. It had to be pretty convincing, because we did need lots of soldiers. I told them, and told them that I could literally feel gears turning inside of me and I was going to snap soon if I didnt leave.
They nodded at me, and told me to relax for a day or two while they got a plane out here to deliver supplies as well as take me back to America. I agreed. The time I was there, I drew on scrap pieces of paper or just stared into space, and I cried, too. They gave me new clothes and I was told that the plane was coming soon, and that they'd get me help as soon as possible.
It made me feel weird. These people, all around me, had put me through everything in training to come here, and I had hurt myself so many times on accident because they were screaming at me to get a move on. They had told me to shut up when I replied to them, they had hit me, they had hurt me, they had teased me, and they had broke me.
But now they were different.
When the plane finally arrived, it had felt like a million years packed into 3 days. They had come at 3 in the morning and one of the soldiers had to carry me out. That soldier had also given me something so very important to me -- Philip's dogtags. He had tied them around my neck with my own dog tags, and had stuffed a note inside my shirt. It read: "Good luck, Angelina. He'll always be with you." When I woke up at around 5, still on the plane, I took it out and hugged the dogtags until we finally got to America again.
Instantly, I was taken to a police station. The police didnt like me much, because I had that terrifying look in my eyes, as they called it. They had tried to take my dogtags away, as well as Philip's, but I punched them before they could. They let me have them in the end.
Right now, Im sitting, waiting for the asylum forms to come in. And I need to be there, soon, or Im done for.

October 20th, 1950. Journal Entry 6.

The police told me that for the time being I was moving to an orphanage in L.A. before the asylum people took me in. I agreed to this, and they handed me my asylum forms to fill out and send back so that they could accept me.. hopefully.
They drove me there, and it took 2 days in total. I dont know where I was, or why it took so long to get there, but I guess I cant say anything cause Im happy where I am.
Since I was one of the oldest kids in this asylum, all the little kids looked at me funny. They knew I was wearing an army outfit, though, they came up to me and giggled, saluting me and thanking me for everything. It was amazing to see these small kids so educated, and it made me so happy that they were happy to be here. I had told them about training and my family when they asked me what I did, but I never once told them about wars, or Philip, or anything sad.
They always seemed to love me so much, and that put a smile on my face. It still does -- and I almost always have kids knocking on my door and asking me if I'd like to play. My mood has impressed many over the past few days, but I still feel I need to go to an asylum. But if I ever get out of there, fully done with everything, I shall come back here and visit my friends.

November 3rd, 1950. Journal entry 7.

I sent my forms The problems have gotten so much worse since the little ones are finally backing off, and I feel it inside of me. I have new friends that I talk to.. one, who has no name, and he tells me to kill the little kids. I know I cant, I cant hurt the innocent ones that have done nothing.. but holding back tears me apart. I can feel him touching me, and I can feel his whispers in my ear. He hurts me when I dont do it, and I know I need to leave. Now.
I cant write much because he's watching me, and he tells me not to.

November 29th, 1950. Journal entry 8.

Its very cold out. I dont like the cold. It reminds me of.. him.
My forms were accepted on the 10th. It was obvious that I needed help, so they sent out a car for me on the 11th. It got here on the 12th, and I got there on the 13th. I dont like this place.. I can literally feel the spirits pulling at me, crying for help. I cried very hard when I got here because I was that light in the darkness. They knew they could communicate with me because thats what spirits do. They see someone they can talk to, or communicate through, and instant flood around me. I was walked in by guards and when I started crying they handcuffed me, and I lashed out at them. They scowled at me, but left me alone, which made me happy, because I wasnt ready to get messed with.
I was met at the front office by 2 others, and they led me to my cell. It looked like a jail cell, and I growled as I stared at it. So this is where I would be staying.. at least there was a shelf for small things in there. When I finally setteled in, a guard came by and.. "inspected" me for items I shouldnt have.
He reached down my shirt but was met with the dogtags. I narrowed my eyes at him warningly, but inside I was beyond terrified. I pulled back and he yanked the 4 dogtags from my shirt, reading the names on them. "ANGELINA G. MAKOS" and "PHILIP A. MAKLIN." I wanted so bad to punch him, but when he pulled back and ripped them off of my neck I had had enough. Lit appeared infront of me and I heard no name behind me, whispering and telling me to hurt him for touching me and taking what I had left away. I screamed at him to give me them back, and kicked him in the chest, going for the dogtags. But he responded by hitting me with the toe of his shoe, right in my neck as I fell down on my knees to grab the necklaces. I landed on my hands and knees and choked, and I was left alone.
And I was already done with this asylum.
Something clicked inside of me, and even writing in here with sanity is a feat.
Goodbye, asylum. Hello, home.

December 1st, 1950. Journal entry 9.

Ive counted the guard shifts. The guy that took my dogtags is on guard from 8:54 to 6:11 on every day but Sunday, and those are the exact times. Im going to get him.

December 3rd, 1950. Journal entry 10.

I did it, journal. I did it.
Last night at 2 in the morning I called him over and asked for water. He nodded, and when he brought it back he stuck it in. I then grabbed his hand, twisted it, slammed it against one of the bars and I kept him from screaming by shoving my other fist in his mouth. I then pulled him in, slammed his head against the bar, and then stabbed him dead with the plastic cup in his temples.
Haha, I win.
I snuck out and grabbed a ring of keys from his waist, but pulled the rusty one off. I had seen him unlocking everything in the asylum with it, so thats all I needed to get out of here. I pulled the dogchains from his neck and hooked them on my neck, then took the journal by mouth and the ring tied to a string I had on my back leg.
And I left.
I escaped.
Im out of this place. This stupid, worthless, place, and Im going home to where I belong.

December 5th, 1950. Journal entry 11.

Its almost Christmas, I see. Well, my present this year was getting the hell out of that place. Those stupid guards were no good at guarding.. I killed him so easily, it was as if he was trying not to fight against me.
I got out of there with that key. I decided it deserved a very rightful place, so I tied it on some string I found and looped it around my leg. I feel like if I need it, itll be there, but that way its not in my way. String is a very nice thing, you know.
All I wish for this christmas, beside getting out of that place, is to be back with my friends. I dont need my parents, no, I just want my friends.
Thats my wish this year.
Please, Santa, its all I want.
Friends.
Not these stupid friends that make me kill, but friends, friends that I can trust, friends that I can love.
Thank you.

[nyx.]

NOOO
slots are filled
/slight swearing in the background/
xD
this is so amazing
i want this so bad I mean
/dies

[greye]

dropping :c

[mulder]

.

[.Lunarsky.]

File number 121
Jeffery

Name: Jeffery
Middle name: derek
Last name: White
Sex: Male
Age: Was 14-Now 17
Paient ID: 121
Symptons: Schizophrenia,Paraphrenia,Shared psychotic disorder,Delusional Disorder
Caught: ate age 14
Realesed: Escaped
Family: Martha,Paul,Duane- No cousins,or grandparents.
Crimes: Killing,kid-napping,Stealing,Causing fires,Fights,Ect.

Name;; Jeff
Full Name;; Jeffery Derek White
Gender;; male
Age;; 18
Theme Song;; iNSaNiTY
Typing style;; #BFBFBF

Why they call him this;;
Jeff? Oh. Jeff The Killer.
Heh. He got that name from a story he
read. And followed its foot-steps

The unneeded meaning of start and end
To the disappearance of this soul
Who remembers characters?
From the window of madness, goodbye

Hello, myself
Haven't we met before?
Goodbye, yourself
So, want to talk?

iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
Unable to run away
iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
Like the corruption is continuing

The discovered conclusion, disappearing
Outlines fading to black
In the darkness, there's no such thing thing as light
From the inside of madness, goodbye

Hello, myself
Haven't we met before?
Goodbye, yourself
So, want to talk?

iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
Unable to run away
iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
Like the corruption is continuing

Hey, haven't we met somewhere in the past?
Hey, you're special to me, I want to talk to you
Hey, what time is it? What's today? I don't know
Hey! It would be great if we completely forgot

iNSaNiTY
It's like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
Dark? Light?
iNSaNiTY
iNSaNiTY

sAnIty
Can't see the dark already
pUrIty
The days are longer
sAnIty
But that also must sink
"sAnIty"
... what is that?

iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
Unable to run away
iNSaNiTY
Like floating on air
PSYCHoPaTHY
A carefree life
iNSaNiTY
An illusion that can't end
CaPTiViTY
The corruption is continuing

Witty || Sarcastic || Mysterious || Jealous || Low-tempered || Egocentric

So you think he is just,Scary? Well,if you meet him,he will just keep to himself. Don't even try talking to him.
He will snap at you and yell. But its not because he wants to,okay maybe it is but its also because of his personality.
Don't get so close though. He Hates love,maybe once,but never after that.

He Never makes contact with any other Jmd,besides his "Friends".

He is pretty witty at times,but hardly ever is. But when he talks he seems like he is acting like he is being witty.

Jeff cant help but laugh at horrible moments.When your hurt he laughs. When your sick he laughs.
when you dyeing he laughs. When your dead. he still laughs. No matter what.

A boy like him,who's sanity is broken cant ever be calm again. He has a short temper at snaps at anytime scaring some Jmd's away. If they don't leave he Starts to give threatening comments to them.

He gets easily Jealous. He hates it when some-one is taking,winning or being better then him.
That angers him more making you his next target,So be careful. Don't act smart or better
then him once you see him.

Jeff as a big ego. Since he's gone insane he's always thought of being more "Attractive" . He walks in to the bathroom.
Looks in the mirror and says "hey there Smexy!" And continues on his day acting proud.

In the mirror

Fur colorSilver - Eye color;; Grey-white
Markings;; Light-ish grey, Dark grey - Scars;; N/A
Tattoos;; N/A - Jewel;; Purple -Birthmarks;; N/A
Piercings;; 11 -Type;; Telepathic -Other body modifications;; N/A
Size;; Mustang - Weight;; - lbs. - Height;; -

All these things

•Hurting His parents and brother
• Brainwashing
• Stealing
• Killing
• Lighting fires
• Kid-napping
• Stalking/hunting

Ive lost my sanity
Lost my train of thought
but who cares
Its Who i Am now

• Mastigophobia
fear of being caught/found

• Allodoxaphobia
Fear of opinions.

• Ankylophobia
Fear of in-mobility

• Anthropophobia
Fear of people or society.

• Apeirophobia
Fear of infinity.

• Why being caught;;Jeff cant stand being around others,the foolish ones,in jail.
How dumb there choices they've made. How stupid they thought. But all his idea where deadly.
He Runs when the police come to find him. He flees like a mouse being chased by a cat

• Ghost's
• illusion
• Lunar Eclipse
• Facade
• Rogue/jmd 100
• Ebony rose
• Dart

• Cops
• Vesper
• -
• -
• -

I love insanity
Ever little bit. They want me in the
asylum. i disagree. this is
the best thing that has ever happened to me.

• Winter
• Stain-less steal
• Silver
• Action
• Fires
• Tragedy's
• Bad-girls
• Red/crimson
• Crazy-ness
• Snow
• Rain
• Piercing
• Fire
• Tornadoes

• Summer
• Cops
• Lamps
• Bars *In cells*
• Love
• Parents
• Memories
• Safe places
• Crazy-farms
• Light
• Being social
• Milk
• Judgers
•

Art;;
Pose
Chibi
I dont belong here
Sinister
Lines bye Ice c a p p ~

Lines by clarinet
why so serious?
You called?
Chibi #2
Un-chain me
Im crazy



Story;;
Found Here
Vlogs/logs;;
Found here

[toccata]

reserve with la name Robinyl

[fabled_]

Oh goodness O-O
I would so try... if only I had another slot *sigh*