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Category Archives: Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (7) – Lipstick Lies!

24 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

addict, addiction, creative writing., Doctor Monroe, drama, Human roleplay, Jordan, Lipstick Lies!, Max Maxwell, Maxwell, Recreation Room Maxwell, Rehab, Seattle, Seattle Substance Abuse, sober, story

Maxwell’s case is one of many in the Seattle Substance Abuse clinic.  Time to meet the other patients.  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

 

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 19, 2014 09:41PM
Room 225 – Max

“Door’s open. I’d offer you a drink but I think the bar is closed.” Max stated, trying to make a joke. Ansel could hear the underlying resentment and pain in Max’s voice and knew he was the person that Max needed to get through this. He stepped into the room and pulled up the chair near Max’s bed, turning it backwards. He draped his arms over the back and looked at Max.

“Max.” Ansel began, “I know right now you’re feeling a bit let down. Your sister had you brought here against your wishes and that’s got to hurt on some level. Betrayal, no matter how good someone’s intentions are, is a bitter pill to swallow.” There was complete honesty in Ansel’s words. He had never once lied to a patient and he wasn’t about to start now. “But she didn’t do this to hurt you. She did this because she loves you very much and doesn’t want to see you fall into a hole that you would never be able to dig yourself out of. She wants her brother back, the one who followed her around like a little lost puppy, getting into mischief, pranking their other brothers and sisters and not getting caught, taking long walks in the woods behind their home, the brother she confided her deepest, darkest secrets to. She misses that brother. I would like to help you find that person again.” Ansel stated, his words powerful. “If you’ll let me.” he added.

Max hadn’t said a word or looked up from his hands clasped in his lap the whole time Ansel began to speak, but Ansel wasn’t worried. It was only the first day.

“Ernie tells me that you requested to make a phone call. I’m going to allow you to do so, from the phone in my office, on one condition…that you come out of your room and get to know the other residents. Some of them are like you. It wouldn’t hurt to find common ground with them, or you’re in for a lonely time. Lunch will be in a couple of hours and some of the residents like to hang out in the recreation room until then.”

Ansel got to his feet and replaced the chair at the desk before moving to the door. He waited to see what Max would do.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 20, 2014 05:25PM
Room 225 – Max

Maxwell noticed the underlying tone of the administrator as he gave a bit of a speech while sitting directly across from him on a backwards turned chair. Ansel trying to put forth that he knew what Max was feeling right at this point. Feeling betrayed by a loved one does hurt even more than had it been say a business associate. He never considered that his sister would do such a bold move and actually have him dragged off in a public place. That was what stung all the more. A man has some pride, even if he didn’t realize what he was doing to himself.

Listening with a raised brow, Maxwell asked; “You speak as though you know her.” It was fair to say that Felicity had spoken at length with Ansel about her brother. The way that Ansel put it however made Maxwell wistful in a sense, but also annoyed. He actually pushed himself up and off the bed and walked over towards the window – his hands resting on the window sill as he stared out at the grounds.

“The things you speak of…the way I was as a young boy. Yes, I followed her around. Idolized her. it was like I could never keep up. Jokes and pranks, silly games. That was my childhood.”

Maxwell glanced back at Ansel and spoke with a small voice.

“That child is long since dead inside of me. The man I became…the one you see now, is the result of trying to forget…”His voice broke off and he felt that he had said way more than he ever wanted to admit. His right hand, his fingers curled into a fist. A tight ball. “Try if you want, Doctor…but I doubt you will find him.”

Looking back outside, he did hear something that did pique his interest. The phone call he had requested. The one he wanted to make the moment he had been locked up. The condition however was that he had to leave his room and mingle with the other patients. Socialize and try to get to know others that were like him. He had a few hours to kill before lunch.

Glancing around the room, which he now knew like the back of his hand, Maxwell came to the conclusion that this deal was one he could settle on. “Alright. I’ll come out of my hidey hole. Just…don’t expect a miracle in a day.” It was a start. Racking his fingers back through his hair, he walked over to the Doctor and offered his hand as though shaking on a business deal. “It’s been…interesting.” Leaving it at that, he wandered outside his room; stopping at first as he reached the doorway, almost unsure of which way to turn. Finally he chose right and headed down to the recreation room.

<3>

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 23, 2014 11:06PM
Recreation Room

As Max was making his way to the rec room and Ansel was returning to his office, other residents were taking advantage of the nice day Seattle was having and were sitting outside the rec room doors on the terrace, soaking up the sun.

All except one.

“Jordan, why aren’t you outside with the others?” A nurse who was making her rounds spotted the lone woman curled up on the couch near one of the large windows. There was an open sketchbook in her lap, a pencil loosely clasped within her fingers. At the mention of her name, the woman looked up, chocolate brown eyes coming back into focus.

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“Didn’t feel like being out there.” Jordan shrugged.

“Why not?” The nurse wondered, sitting across from her. Jordan didn’t answer, gave another half-shrug.

“Jordan, you do know that Doctor Monroe wants you to interact more with the others as part of your treatment.”

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you?” the nurse wondered. Jordan let out a small huff that belied her age.

“I have nothing in common with these people. I feel like an outsider to them. I just want to do my time, get better and get back to work.”

“I’ve told you before that this isn’t a prison.”

“Then if this isn’t a prison, I should be allowed to leave when I want.” Jordan retorted.

“Hmm.” the nurse nodded. “Well…if that’s how you feel about it…” the nurse got to her feet and turned to leave.

“Where you going?” Jordan demanded.

“I’m going to have a chat with Doctor Monroe about you. You might be here a while longer then you originally thought.” The nurse smirked before walking away.

“Bitch.” Jordan grumbled, turning her gaze back to her sketchbook. There was the beginnings of a sketch started and seeing the finished product in her mind, she began to work. Sketching was theraputic for her. It allowed her to see hidden truths of the world around her. As she was sketching, she didn’t see one particular resident come into the room. “The New Guy” as Max was dubbed had caught her attention when she had seen Ernie giving him a tour earlier in the day. It was the look on Max’s face that had caught her attention and she had been itching to draw ever since. Her hand moved rapidly over the paper as she took up some colored pencils to do some fill-ins.

It was probably going to be one of her better drawings.

https://i0.wp.com/img.photobucket.com/albums/v20/Blackcat666x/IMVU/Ladies%20Night%20RP/Max-sketch_zpsf15289ec.jpg

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 24, 2014 04:50AM
Recreation Room

Maxwell took his time in the long walk from his room down to what was known as the Recreation room. He didn’t walk with a pronounced swagger, like you would normally expect from someone that was a high flyer. Not now. Maxwell sort of dawdled along. Peeking in various doors as he passed down the corridor. Even into the staff room, though he didn’t stop and stare like some lost tourist. More of a fleeting glance for any familiar faces. Course he had only really met three people, well four if you counted Charlie Sheen, since he had been brought into the facility. He wrung his hands as he continued. No watch on his wrist, no cellphone to fiddle with. Perhaps he was suffering from a nervous type of anxiety. Sobriety tended to bring with it a horrible sensation, one that he was starting to hate with all his being. Naked…that is how he felt. Stripped of the very things that masked his inner self. Being dressed in the same tracksuit that he was issued with after his shower, he felt drab and colorless. If he blended much more into the walls, maybe he would disappear. He already felt forgotten. Did no one care? How he would give anything to hear the sound of Lucy’s voice. Fleeting images of her kept coming into her mind, but always somber ones. When would it finally dawn on him just how much he had let her down. All the promises he made when he head hunted her from her New York home, and left her more or less running the Light box on her own.

On reaching the doorway to the Recreation room, he noticed that there were large sliding doors that offered the patients access to the outer courtyards. By the sounds of the many voices outside, this is where the bulk of the patients were. A charming day for those that wished to enjoy the warm rays of the sun, whilst set in a tranquil surround of trees and lush gardens. If he were a pensioner he might enjoy such a thing, or an avid gardener. Sadly he was neither of these things. Not really paying attention to whomever might be left in the recreation room, he made his way across past many gaming tables and craft areas till reaching the large open doors. The light filtered through and he was almost about to step outside, when he felt that warmth upon his skin. A creature of habit, he took a step back. A night owl normally it was very rare for him to even be outside during the day. The glare of light made him squint, and he padded his track suit only to realize that he didn’t have his sun glasses. He didn’t have his normal glasses either. Maxwell realized he had nothing, no wallet…nothing.

Turning away from the opened door, was when he finally spotted her. A young girl with delightfully dark skin who was seated on one of the lounge like couches. All around her was pencils, the tools of an artist. A large sketch pad on her knees – head down and busily coloring what would be her latest creation. ~She must be a patient~ Maxwell’s immediate thoughts. Course, he didn’t recognize her. Not one for television or films, he had no idea that the girl was a starlet of the small screen. All he could see was a girl that would rather be inside, being creative than being outside soaking up the sun.

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A quick glance about for any of the large ape like wardens, and then Maxwell made the decision to be social. A nervous hand went up and raked his fingers through his hair before he started to walk over. It was as he approached the girl, that the image that the girl was sketching was none other than….him. At first, Maxwell was a bit taken aback. No one had ever drawn him before. He was more used to having his picture taken for the tabloids and social pages. What truly struck him however, was how the image she had created made him look. Maxwell’s brows creased and then he reached up to touch his own frown lines on his forehead. Rigid lines that had come from years of drinking. Was this how he looked to the world? So old. What had happened to him? This..was what the drink had done. Maxwell was once a handsome young man about town. Now he looked like someone’s grand dad.

If Jordan had bothered to notice, she would see him standing there. A lover of art, he was feeling the sadness of seeing how another human being viewed him.

“You’re very talented.” Words seemed to come out almost without thought. He was humbled by her work. Normally, with the help of the drink he was the life of the party, a chatty man. Now he searched for something to say that wouldn’t sound condescending. “I was told…if I came out of my room that they might grant me a phone call.”

Maxwell then just stood there, realizing how much he missed Lucy. You would think the poor man was going to cry.

<3>

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (6) – Lipstick Lies!

04 Friday Jul 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

addict, addiction, Ansel, Ansel Monroe, charlie sheen, clinic, creative writing., Ernie, Humor, Lipstick Lies! RP, Maxwell, role play., Seattle Substance Abuse

While the administration discuss Maxwell’s case, Max has a special visitor.  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

Writers : LadyBelz and CharlotteCarrendar.

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 03, 2014 07:52PM
Doctor Monroe’s Office

A knock sounded at the door as Ansel was working on some paperwork for one his more stubborn patients. The woman, a fashion model of some great import, was simply incapable of admitting that she was severely addicted to Xanax. He was recommending to both her agent and the modeling agency she works for that she needed to remain in treatment for a bit longer.

He didn’t glance up from his notes as he asked his visitor to enter. He heard the door open and close and the person whod’d come in waited in respectable silence as the doc finished his work. Ansel finished his notes and closed the file, adding a sticky note on top to call the woman’s agent at first opportunity. He finally looked up and saw Ernie standing in front of his desk.

“Ernie, thanks for stopping in. How’s our newest resident?”

“In extreme denial.” Ernie stated without preamble. Ansel frowned.

“That bad, huh?”

“He doesn’t believe he has a problem and he certainly doesn’t want to be here. He’ll have to be watched carefully. I feel he may try and run for it.”

“Hmm…yes, his sister did say he’s got some deep issues.” Ansel nodded. “Anything else?”

“I don’t think he was always like he is. There’s some smarts behind the facade.” Ernie set Max’s file on Ansel’s desk to be looked at. “I think he was pushed into it, and, craving acceptance this would bring, went along with it.”

“That matches with what his sister called me about a few minutes ago. He was absolutely ruined by someone claiming to be his friend and I don’t think he’s aware of it.”

“An Enabler, by the sound of it.” Ernie nodded, very familiar with that.

“I’ll have to deal with him in a different way then I do others.”

“He would like to make a phone call. I told him he’d have to ask you.”

“Smart man. Where is he now?”

“Last I knew, he was getting settled in his room. I don’t think he plans on leaving it for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll have to go and meet him on his ‘home turf’ so to speak.” Ansel chuckled.

“Right-o, boss. Anything you need me to do right now? I have a dentist appointment in an hour and need to head out.”

“Oh, yes! Now that you mention it. Jordan has been behaving and I think she would like her art supplies back.”

“On it, boss. See you in a couple of hours.” Ernie smiled before leaving.

Ansel decided that the first time he would meet Max would not be as a doctor, but as a potential friend. He stripped off his lab coat and into the brown tweed jacket he came to work in. He didn’t look much like a doctor in the matching blue plaid shirt and blue jeans. He could have been someone’s next door neighbor for all anyone knew.

He took the long way up to the second floor, greeting some of the residents who knew him by sight and asking after them. He mentally catalogued their replied to be put in their files when he returned to the office. It looked as if a couple of them were ready to leave the facility and he was happy he was able to help them.

He paused outside the open door of 225 and simply observed the lone man within the room. Max was still sitting on the bed where Ernie had left him, looking so sad and pathetic it made Ansel’s heart break. Here was a man who needed all the help in the world and Ansel was determined to do everything in his power to cure him.

He knocked on the open door, clearing his throat as he did so and waited for Max to look up before he introduced himself.

“Hello, Mr Hines. My name is Ansel Monroe. I’m the Chief of Staff here and I thought I’d come up to say hello and welcome. May I come in?”

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
July 04, 2014 04:00AM
Room 225

It was an unusual feeling to be sitting alone in what was a very clinical room when you yourself think there is nothing wrong with you. Minutes passed, then an hour. The odd sound of footsteps as both patients and staff passed by his open door, gave cause for Maxell to glance up. He didn’t acknowledge those that passed, purely because he was too consumed by his own self pity. Constantly asking himself why? Why did his sister betray his trust? Why was he humiliated in front of an entire restaurant of patrons – to be dragged kicking and screaming like a loony before googly eyed onlookers. The shame, the disgrace.

While he appreciated Ernie’s concern and candor, he was still dissapointed that he didn’t get the chance to make a phone call. In the movies, the prisoners always get that one phone call. You might wonder just who he would have called. In the face of things, the only person he felt he had any real connection with was in fact Lucy. Little did he realize that she was going through her own private hell in the wake of his incarceration. Yes, Maxwell felt like this was a prison. Tall fences and strict security. Breaking out would require some hard thinking and a lot of cunning. Neither of which Maxwell was capable of at this moment in time. Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed, fidgeting with his fingers listlessly, till there was another sound of passing footsteps that came to a stop just outside his door.

A gaunt looking man – good looking by all accounts but at the same time frail was standing in the doorway just staring at him.

“What are you in for?’ The man asked, stepping into the room uninvited. Maxwell did a double take, as he then recognised the man, though it was hard to believe it was him.

“You’re Charlie Sheen, the actor?”

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Charlie smirked and gave a slight nod of the head. “Got it in one kid. So, what are you in here for?” He seemed curious about Maxwell, though Max was a bit awestruck, and in some cases shocked by Charlie’s appearance. He looked so…old. Nothing like he did on television. His face was wrinkly, with big bags under his eyes. His hair was a salt and pepper grey and black. Clearly, he hadn’t touched up the colour in a while. Maxwell stuttered a bit, trying not to blurt out something rude when he finally found his voice.

“Alcohol. Sister had me committed.” Likening this place to that of a mental asylum. Charlie actually laughed at the man’s candor. “Gotta love family. First sign of failure and they either race to tell the tabloids or send you to a place like this. I know…I know, man.”

Maxwell was surprised when Charlie sat down next to him on the bed. There was an awkward silence between them, before Maxwell asked;

“So…what are you in here for?’ Seemed the obvious thing to ask.

“Sex. Addicted to it. That…and drugs. Double header. Lost my tv show because of it to that Kutcher kid.” He scoffed and then tried to make fun of the situation. “Bet you didn’t think they have a cure for sex addiction. Though, every time I see Nurse Chisolm, I crack a fat.”

The conversation was starting to get a bit too intimate for Maxwell’s liking as he cringed at the idea of Charlie Sheen with an erection.

“Ah..right.” Maxwell didn’t know what else to say. The awkward silence again had Charlie get up and then give Maxwell a pat on the back. “Guess I will see you in group.” The actor said, before he caught sight of one of the more attractive nurses and took off out the door with a noticeable bulge in his tracksuit pants.

“I….hope not.” Maxwell said to himself, only to see another come to his door, only this man knocked first.

“Hello, Mr Hines. My name is Ansel Monroe. I’m the Chief of Staff here and I thought I’d come up to say hello and welcome. May I come in?”

The man seemed nice enough, and regular looking. Not like one of the doctors with the lab coat and stern facial expressions. It was probably his attire that set Maxwell at ease.

“Door’s open.” Maxwell answered, stating the obvious. “I’d offer you a drink but I think the bar is closed.” Maxwell still had that quick wit, though the joke would probably fall flat.

<3>

 

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (5) – Lipstick Lies!

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

addict, addiction, alcoholic, creative writing., Dining Room Maxwell, drama, Dusty Springfield, Ernie, help, human rp, Maxwell, Rehab, story, Substance Abuse, Yasmine

Just how far has Maxwell fallen?  We are about to find out.  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 23, 2014 09:02PM
S.S.A.T.F. Dining Room

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“Scotch and wheeties please. Oh…and a cake for later with a large file in it so I can break out of this nut house.” was Maxwell’s response to the offer of breakfast. Ernie and Yasmine both stared at him. In their eyes, he was the crazy one.

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“Oh no, darlin. You won’t even find a bottle of malt liquor in this place. We run a clean establishment, ya hear?” Yasmine stated, waving around a spatula like it was a weapon. Her tone of voice was as if she were speaking to small child. “Now…I think I’ll start you off with one of my special ham, cheese and onion omelets, a biscuit, hash browns and some orange juice.

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She quickly served up the delicious smelling fare and settled the items on a tray. Most of the residents knew that all the food provided for them was homemade by all the women in the kitchen. Omelets were Yasmine’s specialty as she used to be the head cook in a little country diner before the facility hired her on.

“Now go on and eat all of it or I’m gonna be disappointed. Ernie, you make sure he eats. Man could use some meat on his bones.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ernie nodded, snatching an apple from the fresh fruits basket and leading Max to an empty table by the window. From there, they had a nice view of the grounds at the back of the facility, where some of the residents were out walking peacefully or sitting on benches, reading and enjoying the nice weather they were having.

Ernie pointed a finger at Max’s plate. “Better eat that before she comes over here and whacks us both with her spatula.” he joked. “Seriously though, this isn’t a bad place to be. I was a resident here myself. I was like you, didn’t think there was anything wrong with me. Took me some time to figure out that I had some serious problems. I see myself in you, Scotch. You’re in the best hands here. I can guarantee that.” Who knew Ernie was speaking from experience.

But it was the truth.

Whether Max was listening or not, Ernie went on to explain to him that he was an ex-professional football player, who became hooked on Vicodin after a career-ending spinal injury. Life was rough for him after that, being forced to retire at the height of his career. He became an angry, abusive and bitter man, causing his wife to leave with their son and divorcing him. It was then that some of his former teammates forced him into rehab to get the help he needed. Ernie told Max that Doctor Monroe was one of the best in the country and that he had nothing to be afraid of or worried about.

He really hoped that Max was listening to his words, and taking some hope from them.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 23, 2014 09:38PM
S.S.A.T.F. Dining Room

Maxwell’s face was an array of various emotions. His request for Scotch and wheeties was an actual serious request – unlike the cake which was more his way of misbehaving to the kind hearted Yasmine. Now, when he was in a drunken stupor, a woman like Yasmine giving him grief would simply be like water off a duck’s back. Washed away like tears in the rain. But to hear a woman threaten in such a manner whilst sober brought him round quick smart. She was waving that spatula like a General ready to lead his troops of kitchen ladies to war, and Maxwell was the enemy. His shoulders immediately fell forward as he knew better than to mess with the likes of Yasmine. The daunting realization that there was no hope in hell of him getting a drink with breakfast took the last winds of resistance right out of his sails.

Max took the offered tray, which did smell really good and followed along behind Ernie to one of the vacant tables on offer. He set the tray down awkwardly, the plates and cutlery clinking as he did so. He couldn’t help but feel the eyes of many a resident slowly undressing him, and he pouted as he pulled out his chair and slunk into his seat.

“Better eat that before she comes over here and whacks us both with her spatula.” 

Ernie was doing him a favour to tell him to eat up or earn Yasmine’s wrath. Maxwell picked up a fork and stabbed about the omelette like he was trying to see if it was alive. He honestly could not remember the last time he had a good meal, but his brain was so messed up, he could only think about getting that next drink. His clothes hung on him in such a way that if one was to see him naked, they would be encountered with a terrible sight. Not an ounce of fat on him. All eaten away. There was so much more to this disease that he had, than met the eye. Not only was his brain sending the wrong messages, his body was in rapid decline.

With a trembling hand he brought up a fork full of omelette, and sniffed it before finally putting it in his mouth and chewing.

It was a start.

He mumbled something about it tasting good. His elbows resting on the table top, one hand propping up his head. Maxwell could hear Ernie’s tale of how he came to be in this place, and even compared himself to Maxwell. This Doctor Monroe sounded daunting. Would he be the kind of Doctor who recommended two aspirin and a good night’s sleep, or one of those types that want’s to know if their Father smacked them as a child to find out their reasons for addiction and abuse.

Maxwell was always the extrovert. A party man or the life of one. But booze fueled that monster. The man seen at the table taking small mouthfuls of Yasmine’s omelette was but a shell of a man. He started to see there was no easy way out. No amount of bribery. There was one thought though.

“Do I get a phone call?” Maxwell asked, wiping the egg from his chin. Would they consider such, and if so…who would he call?

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<3>

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 23, 2014 10:19PM
Dining Room

Max looked the picture of abject misery and Ernie felt sorry for the man. His face was so long and sad, Max wanted to just hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right. But he couldn’t. The life of an addict was based on lies and Ernie had learned that lying didn’t get you anything or anywhere. He could see that Max was lying to himself…he just didn’t realize it.

Hopefully under the care of Ansel Monroe, Max would finally see it.

Max asked if he would be allowed a phone call. Ernie didn’t want to lie to him.

“That depends on the Doc to be honest with you. You’ll have to ask him when you go to meet him later.” Ernie stated. “Eat your breakfast, Scotch. Worry about the small stuff later.” Ernie smiled warmly at his charge, taking a bite of his apple as he did so.

Yasmine glanced over at Ernie and he gave her a small nod to indicate that Max was eating, slowly but surely. He might not have been able to eat all of it because of his stomach, but he was eating and that’s all Yasmine needed to know.

After Max managed to eat some food, Ernie lead him to his room.

——

Room 225

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Ernie stepped into Max’s new accommodations and waited for Max to step into the room to inspect it. It was tastefully decorated and seemed very comfortable. There was the TV and radio Ernie had mentioned earlier and Max had a nice window view of the grounds. The grounds were massive, and surrounded by a privacy fence. As they watched, an ambitious paparazzi tried to scramble over the fence and onto the property. Security was on high alert and had the man subdued in less then a minute, escorting him off the property in handcuffs into the waiting arms of Washington State Police.

“As you can see, we like to keep our residents lives as private as possible. We don’t tolerate gloryhounds like that.” Ernie stated, his tone serious for the first time since Max had met him. Ernie turned away from the window and the smile was back on his face. “I’m going to leave you for a few hours to get yourself settled. The doc has a meet and greet scheduled with you just after lunch. You can hang out up here, take a nap, watch some tv or whatever, or wander around and get your bearings if you want. I’ll come find you when it’s time for your appointment.”

“Max…you’re in good hands here.” Ernie stated, speaking Max’s name for the first time. It was important for Ernie to get Max’s trust or Max was going to be in for a long recovery. It was Ernie’s job to help him as much as he could.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 24, 2014 05:59PM
Room 225

Feeling slightly nauseous from his meal, due to the fact his stomach had shrunk so much, Maxwell slowly followed Ernie to what would be his room for the duration of his stay. It was similar to a high end hospital room, though had a lot of modern comforts such as TV and radio. The interior design was tasteful and the room immaculately kept. Still, it had that clinical quality about it, which was a constant reminder to Maxwell that he was a patient.

A large window graced him with a view of the expansive gardens and grounds that again were beautifully kept and lush. A massive security fence kept the media hounds and the like at bay but also kept the patients in. If Ernie was trying to allay Maxwell’s fears of being discovered in such an institution it seemed to be falling on deaf ears. It was still only the second day, and with Maxwell sobering up, and his body and mind telling him he needed a drink, his behavior would best be described as erratic.

The request of a phone call to the outside world fell flat. Well, really it was Maxwell’s Doctor that would be the only one who could authorize such a request. But who would have Maxwell called? Certainly not Felicity, not after how he felt about her locking him up like this. Muriel? No, he had given up on her pretty much after the disastrous dinner party. In a way he was relieved that their relationship had come to an end. She was his reason for drinking in the first place. But once you start down a path of self destruction it was often hard to apply the brakes.

Ernie was genuinely trying to help Maxwell settle in. Perhaps it was true, that Ernie saw a bit of himself in Maxwell.

“I’m going to leave you for a few hours to get yourself settled. The doc has a meet and greet scheduled with you just after lunch. You can hang out up here, take a nap, watch some tv or whatever, or wander around and get your bearings if you want. I’ll come find you when it’s time for your appointment.” 

Mawell looked uneasy about being left alone. He patted the edge of the bed as he stood there. He didn’t feel like watching TV as he never had made a habit of it at home. Going for a walk, he knew he would get lost and perhaps bump into some other crazies (since that is how he viewed the other patients).

“I think I might just…wait here for my appointment.” It was probably the first time he spoke normally, and without the sarcasm. Was he to be believed?

Hearing Ernie call him by his name, rather than the moniker “Scotch”, Maxwell brightened somewhat.

“I’ll hold you to that….but thank you.”

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Watching Ernie leave, Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed and sighed. He started to wonder what this Doctor would be like. Just what would he have to do to be released, that was the question that plagued him most.

<3>

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (4) – Lipstick Lies!

22 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

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addict, break out, breakfast, characters, creative writing., Ernie, fun, Humor, Lipstick Lies!, Maxwell, Rehab, role play., RP, Seattle Substance Abuse, Treatment Facility June 21, Yasmine

Maxwell is about to meet some of the friendly staff at SSA, but is he really ready too?  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

Writers : LadyBelz and CharlotteCarrendar

 

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 21, 2014 09:43PM
Shower Hallway

Ernie checked his watch and determined that he’d given Max more then enough time to clean himself up. He finished making notes in Max’s file before getting to his feet and tucking the folder beneath his arm. He went to the door and unlocked it, seeing Max sitting on the little bench inside the room.

“Well, you’re looking much better. How about some breakfast? I’ll give you a tour of the place so you can get your bearings, then I’ll take you up to your room.” He waved Max out of the shower and started down the hall.

“This facility is one of the best in the country, so you’re in good hands here. Each resident has their own room, you have a radio and a tv so you won’t be bored much. Or if you want to hang out with the other residents, we have a state-of-the-art recreation room with big screen TV, video games, pool tables, and ping pong. We also have a combination gym/pool area if you want to exercise.”

Ernie led him past each area he was describing and Max would be able to see a few of the residents in the rec room, watching one of the early morning talk shows that were on.

“The dining room is at the end of this hall. Breakfast is from 6 to 9, Lunch is from Noon until 3 and Dinner is from 5 to 8. You’ll find the weekly menu in your room so you can make your selections from that. We have someone who comes around to collect them so the kitchen staff knows what to make for each resident.”

Ernie went into the dining room and up to the serving line.

“Morning, Yasmine!” Ernie greeted the woman who was watching the food levels. She looked up at him and grinned.

“Hey Ernie! Lookin mighty fine this morning!”

“Only for you, sugar.” Ernie grinned, leaning against the counter.

“Who’s that with ya? Never seen him round here before?”

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“This is Max. He’s going to be staying with us for a little while. Max, this is Yasmine. She’s in charge of the kitchens.”

“Nice to meet you, Max. What can I get ya for breakfast this morning? You look like you could use a good meal.” Yasmine smiled warmly.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 21, 2014 10:25PM
Dining hall

Ernie may well have been pleased to see that Maxwell had scrubbed up a lot better than when he had arrived, but the patient – he was still damaged goods. Feeling the affects of not having had anything to drink, the stark reality of being sober was actually making his paranoia worse.

Shuffling along beside the mountain of a man, that was showing him the various places for recreation and where patients were able to go, Maxwell was wearing a very dour expression. This was not like a health spa. He had been to those. No this was a veiled institution. People who came here were suffering from their addictions in the same way a mental patient deals with his afflictions.

Everything for the patients was state of the art, and why wouldn’t it be? They were housing some of the city’s most influential people, who had all fallen from grace. Some were addicted to sex, others drugs…then of course there were those like himself – alcoholics. The road to recovery was going to be a very long and painful journey, but the worst part for Maxwell was, he was yet to understand he had a problem. In fact, he believed that this was all some mean plot by his sister who had designs on his gallery.

Walking past the various rooms, he finally came upon the dining hall. A large expansive room, with your typical canteen style arrangement to serve the patrons at the various allocated times. There was already a line up for breakfast, and other patients were already chatty, though some who like Maxwell were new, were desperately trying to conceal their identities.

Ernie introduced Maxwell to the lady in charge of getting the patient’s their meals. A sweet looking woman, but also one that would not stand for no bullshit. She had that way about her. Sassy almost and her friendly nature with Ernie showed she was a people person. But…Maxwell was not exactly in a social frame of mind. He was more…”vote me off the island”. Yasmine was very polite when she asked what he would like for breakfast.

“Scotch and wheeties please. Oh…and a cake for later with a large file in it so I can break out of this nut house.”

https://i2.wp.com/ransackedmedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Cake.jpg 

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (3) – Lipstick Lies!

21 Saturday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

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addict, addiction, alcoholic, BDSM, blog, Ernie, Felicity, Felicity Hines, Humor, Lipstick Lies!, Lucy, Maxwell, Muriel, phone calls, Rehab, role play., Seattle Substance Abuse, Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility, story

Maxell has a rude awakening…and Felicity lets the cat out of the bag.  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 20, 2014 09:28AM
Patient Holding

Oh he was going to be a challenge for sure. Ernie cheerfully grinned as Max began to rant.

“I beg to differ.” Max snapped back, still shaking off the effects of the sedative he was given. “This isn’t exactly the Hilton, so I would have to say no, to answer your question. I had a terrible night and feel as though I have been hit by a lorry. That is a truck, since you probably don’t understand the Queen’s English.”

At that, Ernie let out a deep rumbling laugh that was odd for a man his size. He straightened to his full height, put one hand to his chest and the other in the air as if he were about to give a speech. “My dear boy. I do know what a lorry is. You cheeky little blighter.” Ernie stated in a snobbish, British accent. It was pretty good for a black man like him.

Max noticed the clothes sitting in the chair and his nose went up in the air again. Ernie was beginning to think this man was born with his nose stuck in that position. Of course Max then had to complain about the clothes.

“Well there’s no need to be insulting. None of your own clothing was brought in with you last night, except what you had on and despite what you think, Scotch, we do not ask the residents here to wear these all the time. This is just until we can get some of your own clothing brought in for you.” Ernie took up the clothes before grabbing Max by the arm. It wasn’t often Ernie got angry, but this man had pretty much just insulted the entire facility and he wasn’t going to take that kindly, no matter what Max’s problem was.

He hauled the man to his feet and shoved the clothes into his arms. “Shower, I think. Then you need some food.” Still holding Max by the arm, Ernie began to lead (more like drag) Max off to an area where he could shower. He didn’t know the thoughts running through Max’s head, the poor man thinking it was some type of communal shower.

Max began to babble next to him and Ernie could practically taste the denial in the man’s tone. He definitely needed help.

“I don’t belong here. See, my sister made a terrible mistake. I’m perfectly fine. Not like the rest of these loonies. Look, I have this trust fund at the National bank. I’ll pay you ten thousand, if you get me out of here.”

Ernie snorted. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to bribe him and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Sorry, Scotch. Bribery don’t work on me.”

They reached the room where the shower was located. Ernie opened the door to make sure it wasn’t occupied. He pulled out some towels, soap (Irish Spring) and shampoo (Head and Shoulders) from the supply closet next to the bathroom and set them on the bench inside the shower.

“In you go, Scotch. I’ll give you 30 minutes to yourself before I come busting in so make them count.” Ernie grinned, his friendly nature shining through once more.

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Ernie turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him. He moved across the hall to the small desk facing the bathroom and sat down to wait, making some notes in Max’s file about his behavior that morning and his own personal observations. Ansel would definitely be interested in Ernie’s findings.

Denise wandered by and stopped at the desk, reading Ernie’s writing over his shoulder. She saw the words “firmly in denial” and shook her head.

“He’s going to be a tough nut to crack.” she murmured.

“Mhm.” Ernie grunted.

“Uh oh. A grunt and a one-word sentence from you. What did he say?”

“First he insulted the facility’s clothes, then he called the patients ‘loony’ then he tried to bribe me.”

“Oooo that’s bad.” Denise groaned. “Well, if it makes you feel better, his sister sent over some of his things earlier this morning. They’re up in his room.”

“I’ll tell him after he’s had breakfast. Man could use a dash of humility.” Denise patted him on the shoulder and continued off down the hall.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 20, 2014 04:02PM
Patient Holding

Bribery had always worked in the past, when Maxwell had tried to get out of a situation. In this case however, his pleas to be heard by the towering Ernie fell flat, as well as his grand offer of $10,000 to help secure his freedom out of the institution. With rather heavy handed tactics that earnt a weasel like squeal of resistance from Maxwell, the art curator was forced into a special bathroom, that for the best part was for one person, not ten. Still looking like he swallowed something nasty, he shook Ernie’s hand off indignantly as he was released in the small ensuite.

“In you go, Scotch. I’ll give you 30 minutes to yourself before I come busting in so make them count.” 

Again with the nickname, instead of his real name. It was like Ernie enjoyed mocking Maxwell at every turn. The snotty art dealer replied.

“Well, since you people took my rolex, its a bit bloody hard to gauge thirty minutes. What am I supposed to do? Times my freckles by my moles and work out the time that way? Hmm? Hmm?”

Course, the door was closed on him and you could hear the turning of a lock. This left Maxwell standing there alone. He wrung his hands together as he knew he was now on this man’s clock. Last thing he wanted was to have the ogre muscle his way in when he was in a state of undress. He slowly took in his surrounds. He could not ever remember being in a place like this. With tiny soaps in packets that were hard to open, and wee little shampoo bottles. Just enough to get the job done.

Maxwell was never usually up this early. He was either sleeping off a hard night on the booze, or having Lucy trying to fill him with enough coffee to bring him around to a near state of normal. Not that he could even remember what normal was. The sobering feeling he had at the moment was one of confusion and fear. There was no control in this situation. His rights having been signed away by his interfering sister to the SSA. What was she doing now? He wondered. Selling off his assets? Putting the Gallery up for sale to pay for his treatment? Horrid thoughts plagued his mind, as he slowly took off the pyjamas and turned on the faucet in the shower cubicle. Maxwell caught a side glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror. He looked….old. Ragged. Tired. He’d never seen himself like this before. Like a bad mug shot that you see on those entertainment tonight shows. Had he truly fallen this far?

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Remembering that Ernie was going to bust in after thirty minutes, Maxwell suddenly got a move on and stepped into the shower. The hot streams of water truly waking him up, and he set about washing his hair, then his body till he was thoroughly clean. He turned off the faucets and stepped out onto the mat, drying himself down quickly, before hanging up the wet towel and then staring at the offered pile of clothes. They were like something out of a bland Richard Simmons cardiac video. He held them up and wondered why the colours had been washed out of them. He much rather wear a suit, that some old sweat pants and top. Sighing reluctantly, he put the clothing on. It was ill fitting, and actually made him look like he had shrunk.

Maxwell then sat down on the small chair provided inside, and waited. The grim realization hitting him. He was at the mercy of the man outside. Maxwell glanced up at the small window and saw the bars on it. There was no escape. How depressing. It just couldn’t get any worse, could it?

<3>

Meanwhile…Felicity is making a few calls.

 

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Elias’s Studio
June 20, 2014 09:10PM
The Roadside Diner – From Elias’s Studio

On entering the diner, Lucy suddenly felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. It was getting late, and she was not expecting any calls at this hour. Excusing herself from Roi and Elias, she took the phone out and faced away from the pair, in case it was a matter to do with the gallery. After Thomas’s sudden exit from his position and the day she had had, Lucy couldn’t possibly handle any more bad news. Or so….she thought.

Phone call from Felicity Hines to Lucy Bardwell…

-dials number-

“Lucy, this is Felicity Hines, Max’s sister. Listen…um…Max is going to be out of commission for a while and since you’re doing such a great job with the gallery, I’m promoting you to executive officer in his stead. Now, don’t get mad or look at your phone oddly. I’ve had to get power-of-attorney over Max’s affairs and business dealings until I know he can handle his responsibilities. I didn’t want to get into this over the phone, but…I have had Max committed to a treatment facility for alcohol abuse. Surely you’ve seen the way he’s been drinking nearly 24/7 and disregarding everything to do with the gallery? You practically run the place anyway. But it’s not healthy for him and I don’t want to see him drink himself into an early grave so I took the steps necessary to get him the help he needs. My parents would never forgive me if I didn’t help him. He’s at the Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility under the care of Doctor Ansel Monroe, but Dr Monroe recommends no visitors until after the first 2 weeks, but if you wanted to visit him after, I can give you Doctor Monroe’s number. This is the best thing for Max, and I hope like hell he forgives me for it.”

As the call ended, Lucy stood there looking completely dumbfounded. Maxwell was in rehab?! The very shock of hearing this from his sister fueled the idea that this was no hoax, but a very real scenario. Lucy knew he had been in bad shape, hell she nurse maided him for months till even she could no longer get through to him. Of course, Muriel kept tight reigns on Max during that time, so any help was often blocked.

Lucy’s hand came up to cover her mouth as she absorbed every word. She had been promoted in her position, but in hindsight she was already fulfilling that role, just had never had it made official, till now. So here she was, running the whole show and now she was going to have to look at Roisin for help. Her hand lowered as she started to feel physically sick from the whole thing. Lucy somehow managed to find a seat in the booth, and then stared at her phone, knowing it was right and the polite thing to send a message back. Sadly, she put on her most professional voice and returned a message to Felicity.

Phone call to Felicity Hines from Lucy Bardwell

-dials number-

Just got your message, Miss Hines and I do appreciate being told this at what must be a very difficult time for you and your family. Naturally I graciously accept the promotion with the current state of the gallery which is in dire need of good management. I will make sure to go and see Maxwell as soon as his doctor’s allow, and will endeavor to ensure the Gallery runs efficiently in his absence. Again, I am grateful to be in your confidence.

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Lucy ended the call and slowly slipped it back into her pocket. Her facial expression said it all. Disappointment in her boss.

<3>

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Social Media
June 20, 2014 09:18PM
Voice message from Felicity to Muriel

“Muriel, it’s Felicity. I know I’m probably one of the last people you ever want to hear from, but this concerns my brother. I have had him committed to the Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility last night and am taking over all of his affairs until he completes treatment for his addiction to alcohol. He was drinking himself to death, Muriel. I couldn’t watch him waste away like that. My parents would never forgive me. He is in the care of Doctor Ansel Monroe and I trust this man to help my brother. Max can have visitors in about 2 weeks if you’d like to see him. Just call the facility and ask for Doctor Monroe or his assistant, Denise. Max needs help, and this is the only way I can get that to him. Hope to talk to you soon. Bye.”

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Social Media
June 20, 2014 09:33PM
Muriel’s apartment

To say Muriel would be worried or even mildly concerned about Maxwell was a big ask, considering the fact she had moved on and found a new toy boy for her more outrageous fetishes. Little did Felicity realize that the very root of Maxwell’s problems was the woman she was now messaging.

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In her apartment, she had her latest submissive tied and kneeling near the fire place, as she finished lacing up her leather bodice. She looked a right sight, with a black lace mask covering much of her face, and her hair wild and teased out to the full. Bright cherry lipstick adorned her aging lips and she looked like something from a twisted version of a mature dominatrix catalog for the perverted.

Smirking to herself as her current colt was whimpering through his ball gag, she heard her cell phone chime merrily. Picking it up, she listened to Felicity on the other end. The poor wretch had finally been sent to rehab. She gave a small shrug and a twisted expression of indifference before sending a message back.

~Voice message~

“Let’s hope he doesn’t end up like Lindsay and be splashed about the tabloids., but I am sure you will be there with the scoop. Chow darling.”

She tossed the phone onto her bed and then started to stalk her latest victim.

“You’ve been a bad boy.”

Fade to black…

<3>

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (2) – Lipstick Lies!

20 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Comedy, creative writing., Ernie, fun, Humor, Lipstick Lies!, Maxwell, Nurse's Station Denise, Rehab, roleplay, series

Ernie starts his mornings rounds and finds out who his newest patient is for the day.  Maxwell.  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

 

Writers : LadyBelz and CharlotteCarrendar

 

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 19, 2014 08:34PM
Nurse’s Station

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Denise found Ernie at the Nurse’s Station, flirting with Wanda, his current crush of the month. Ernie had a reputation around the facility as a bit of a ladies man, and was under the impression that no woman in their right mind would turn down a chance to date him. Wanda was made of sterner stuff and said no to him every time he asked.

“Give it up, Ernie. Wanda has better taste in men.” Denise grinned, moving around the counter. Ernie made a face at her.

“Aw come on, Den. I was beginning to wear down her resistance.” Ernie grinned. At that, Wanda rolled her eyes.

“He likes to think he’s wearing me down.” she snorted. Denise chuckled.

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“So, Ernie. Got a new patient for you. Hard-luck case, too. Right up your alley.”

“Drugs, alcohol or sex?” Ernie wondered.

“Alcohol. Bit of an obsessive-compulsive.”

“Oooo. A challenge. I love those.” Ernie rubbed his hands together. Denise handed him the file that had been started on Max. Ernie quickly skimmed it and nodded.

“Where’s he at now?”

“Holding. We didn’t have a room ready for him last night so we left him there. He’ll be in Room 225 starting today, though.” Wanda stated after checking Max’s placement in the computer.

“Doc wants him cleaned up and in the general population before breakfast.” Denise repeated Ansel’s orders for Max.

“Hm. I’ll have to take a couple of sets of clothes with me since I don’t know his size.” Ernie nodded, turning to head off to the patient supplies closet. All new patients were issued a standard set of facility clothing; a tshirt, a sweatshirt for cold days, sweatpants, socks and non-slip sneakers, with the initials of the facility stamped across them.

“Be careful with this one. He was a bit wild when they brought him in last night.” Denise warned.

“They’re all wild when they first get here. I’m used to it.” Ernie shrugged. He waved to the two women and went off to make the rounds.

——

Patient Holding

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The holding center for new patients was somewhat similar to a holding area for new inmates, only there were beds instead of chairs. It was on one of these beds that Ernie found his new charge, looking a bit worse for wear after being sedated for the past 12 hours. He dropped a bundle of clothes in a nearby chair and approached Max.

“Well, good morning, Scotch!” Ernie grinned, already deciding on a nickname for Max. Ernie liked giving his patients nicknames, it was easier to remember who they were. “Looks like you had a rough night. I hope you got enough sleep.”

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After a moment, Ernie continued on.

“Well, let me introduce myself. My name is Ernie Jefferson, no relation to Thomas and I’m going to be the guy in charge of your everyday life here until the doc says you’re cured. Follow the rules and we’ll get along. Don’t follow the rules, and things could get ugly.” Ernie grinned. “Now, I’ve brought you a change of clothes and I’m sure you want to take a shower. We’ll get you cleaned up, get some breakfast in ya, then I’ll take you on a tour of the place so you can get your bearings before I show you to your new room. How’s that sound?”

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 20, 2014 01:38AM
Patient Holding

“Well, good morning, Scotch!” The cheerful yet deep voice of Maxwell’s in-keeper – for want of a better word. Maxwell slowly raised his head, and then the full size of this mountain of a man came to light. Was it possible that the center hired ex football stars to keep the inmates in line? This was starting to feel more and more like prison. The name Scotch was comical, if you were yourself drunk when you heard it. Sober, on the other hand it was more like he was teasing Max.

“I beg to differ.” Max retorted, still coming out of the effects from the sedatives. “Looks like you had a rough night. I hope you got enough sleep.” Sleep? A drug induced coma? Maxwell didn’t regard it as sleep at all, though Ernie was right about one thing, he had had a rough night.

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“This isn’t exactly the Hilton, so I would have to say no, to answer your question. I had a terrible night and feel as though I have been hit by a lorry. That is a truck, since you probably don’t understand the Queen’s English.” Rubbing his head slightly, he then gave Ernie the floor. Well, Ernie kind of took over the conversation. Making it clear that HE was going to be in charge of his every day life until the Doc says he is cured. Now one thing about being an alcoholic was, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with him. He lived in a constant state of denial. Maxwell gave him a foul look to hear that he was going to be bullied by this walking mountain till somehow he managed to get released. The clothes that had been dropped unceremoniously on a nearby chair were intended for him to change into.

Now, I’ve brought you a change of clothes and I’m sure you want to take a shower. 

Maxwell looked at the odd assortment of clothing in the drab colours. They didn’t suit him at all, and he had to wonder what size the pants were. “These? What, the poor reject them?” Maxwell was mortified, and even more so when he discovered it was a group shower block. There was to be no privacy in the holding area. Max didn’t mind showering with a woman, or by himself, but never with other men. This was turning into something out of one of those B grade jail movies. He was actually terrified to drop the soap.

We’ll get you cleaned up, get some breakfast in ya, then I’ll take you on a tour of the place so you can get your bearings before I show you to your new room. How’s that sound?”

Maxwell pinched himself, and then cried out since it hurt. This nightmare was actually real. Being sober made it all the more frightening. He shot a look again at Ernie and then whispered. “I don’t belong here. See, my sister made a terrible mistake. I’m perfectly fine. Not like the rest of these loonies. Look, I have this trust fund at the National bank. I’ll pay you ten thousand, if you get me out of here.” He then did a wink and tried to get Ernie to shake on it. Needless to say, this probably wasn’t going to go well.

<3>

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (1) – Lipstick Lies!

19 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

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Tags

Ansel Monroe, dreams, drug abuse, Felicity, Humor, Lipstick Lies!, Maxwell, Maxwell Hines, Rehab, role play., Seattle, Seattle Substance Abuse, Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility, series, story, Treatment Facility, writing

The stark reality of Maxwell’s rehab stint have yet to sink in.  Will Doctor Monroe be able to make a break through with their newest patient?  Welcome to Lipstick Lies!

 

Writers : LadyBelz and CharlotteCarrendar

LadyBelz

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 18, 2014 05:31PM
Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
Doctor Monroe’s Office

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The Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility sat isolated on a hill on the outskirts of the city. Established in 1845, it rivaled the Betty Ford Clinic with the number of celebrities known and unknown that traversed its hallowed halls.

When a facility was built and opened in Seattle in the early 1990’s, Ansel Monroe was tapped to be its head, a role he has relished for over 15 years.

Well-versed in the addictions that plague celebrities, it was his calm demeanor and professional attitude that allowed him to be so successful with the treatment of his patients.

The people he saw on a daily basis put their faith and trust in him, due to the simple fact that what they tell him in confidence, stays in confidence. None of what they went through was ever leaked to the paparazzi that were always camped outside the gates.

And woe to those story-seekers who dare try to traverse the gates to get inside for their scoops. Glory hounds were frowned upon and were dealt with extreme prejudice.

It was the morning following Maxwell Hines’s entrance into these same halls and Ansel was in his office, reading Max’s file. He kept a seperate notepad beside his hand to make observations based upon what he was reading in the file, also reading the letter that his sister had sent along.

There was a knock upon his office door and he pulled his eyes away to see who it was.

“Yes?” he called out. His assistant, Denise McBride, also on staff as a Registered Nurse, poked her head in the door.

“Good morning, Ansel.” she smiled.

“Good morning, Denise. How’s Lilith doing?” Lilith was Denise’s 5 year old daughter.

“Much better, thank you for asking. Chicken pox are a pain in my ass.”

“At least she got them while she was still young and not an adolescent. That would be disasterous, I imagine.”

“You’re probably right.” Denise chuckled, pulling up her clipboard. “So…looks like Jordan slept peacefully last night. I think she’s finally over the hump. She has an appointment with you this morning after breakfast.”

“Mm, yes. Her addiction to cocaine was particularly nasty this time around.”

“Dottie is still having trust issues with some of the elderly staff.”

“Sexual abuse that transitions into prostitution is a difficult one to process. But we will continue to do our best for her.”

Denise nodded and moved her pen down her list, stopping at a name on the bottom.

“And our newest patient had to be sedated last night when he was brought in. He tried to bite Steve, and aimed a kick at a delicate portion of Dan’s anatomy.”

“Ah, yes. Maxwell Hines. I just finished reading his file.” Ansel nodded, sitting back in his seat.

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“What’s his story?” Denise wondered, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

“Obsessive-compulsive, alcoholic with low self-esteem. I believe he’s an art gallery owner.”

“Oh! I’ve been to a showing at his gallery. He’s got a great eye for detail.”

“Apparently, his eye for detail pointed more toward drinking and not working. His sister had him committed.”

“Sounds like she’d reached the end of her rope with him.”

“Something like that. According to her, he was on a self-destructive path to the grave.”

“She’s not an enabler, is she?”

“No.” Ansel shook his head. “Far from it. She was trying to get him to see that he was hurting everyone around him. But he was in denial of it all.”

“Denial is an ugly road to travel.” Denise sighed. “Would you like to set up an appointment with him today?”

“No. We’ll give him another day to himself. Is he still sedated?”

“It should wear off in another hour or so.”

“Good. Get him cleaned up, introduce him to the general pop and see how he does. I’ll simply observe him today so that I can get some idea of how to handle him when we meet.”

“Right. Who do you want to assign to him?”

“I think Ernie would be a good choice. He’s got that no-nonsense vibe.”

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“Oh boy.” Denise chuckled, making a note on her chart. “I’ll go and catch Ernie before he starts his rounds.” Denise got to her feet and started to leave.

“Thanks, Denise.” Ansel smiled, watching her walk away. He made a couple of more notes for Maxwell’s file before he closed it and left the office.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 18, 2014 07:00PM
Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility – Maxwell’s room

~Dream sequence~

A glittering night. A crowd bustling within his gallery all to see the work of the latest artist about town- Clarke Morrigan. Her sculptures had gotten rave reviews from the press releases, and now Maxwell was basking in the heady glow of the patrons attentions. Once again, Maxwell had pulled it off. Found another star in the midst of Seattle’s art community and launched them into the international spot light. A genius…yes indisputable. There was Lucy. Ah, what a girl. Handling the press like a natural winner. Again a credit all to Maxwell and his amazing skills at recruiting only the best.

But just as he was relishing in the adulation, the glory of yet another magnificent show his sister appeared.

“Look at you!”

“What? Darling, let’s not make a scene shall we?”

“You’re naked! Drunk…as usual and naked. Can’t you see everyone staring at you?!”

Suddenly hordes of cameramen all closed in, taking snapshots of the Gallery owner, who brought up his scotch glass and then looked down to see he was in fact naked. Completely. Lucy was standing in the background, her face ashen and the look of disappointment showing clearly.

“Help me, Felicity. How did I lose my clothes?” He wailed, trying to hide behind her as more people took photographs, some even pulling out their iphones. “I’ll be ruined. How could you let me do this?” He was mortified, and then suddenly grabbed on the arms by two large gorillas in white jackets. Felicity turned on him, and had the head of an evil witch – her face all green with a long nose and a large wart on the end of it.

https://charlottecarrendar.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/6e8bf-oz-wickedwitch.gif

“Oh I’ll help you. Come my pretties…fly…fly…FLY!” This was turning into something horrible from the Wizard of Oz. the gorillas sprouting wings and then taking off with the naked Maxwell into the sky about to hit the ceiling. The room filled with art lovers all applauded loudly, most were laughing too.

“FELICITY…YOU OLD WITCH!” Maxwell screamed as he struggled, kicked and bit till finally he landed on a stained mattress and was surrounded by padded walls. There was some man babbling about sucking cock for coke. Maxwell was now in some striped pyjamas, and his hair all disheveled, as though he had been this way for months. He feebly reached out towards the door, only to see a large gorilla…laughing at him and offering him…a banana.

“Felicity…..how could you do this to me?”

~End dream sequence~

The sedative that Maxwell had been given on his arrival at the SSA was a powerful one, and only now the following day was it starting to wear off. Maxwell’s eyes finally opened to see he was still locked inside his room. The other patient must have had access to the rest of the facility – a privilege that Maxwell was yet to earn.

He sat himself up slowly, smacking his dry lips together and taking up his flat pillow which he cuddled to himself. This was his worst nightmare. Being locked up like a looney. Was he a looney? What was this place? He knew one thing it smelt really funny – like a heavy concentration of anti-bacterial solution. Maybe they had washed the floor at the foot of his bed where he had been sick? Maxwell brought his hand up to the side of his head and then looked to see his rolex watch was gone. Hell, his rings were gone. They took all his jewelry. He suddenly felt very naked indeed, even with the odd pyjamas on.

“I need a drink.” he thought to himself..and wondered when happy hour was.

<3>

 

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Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility – Lipstick Lies!

12 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by charlottecarrendar in Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

creative writing., Doctors, DownTown Seattle, drama, Lipstick Lies!, Maxwell, Maxwell Hines, Rehab, roleplay, Seattle, Seattle Substance Abuse, Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility, Treatment Facility

 

After Maxwell Hines had been taken from his luncheon meeting with his sister Felicity, this is where he ended up.  Continuing from the DownTown Seattle Thread.

 
LadyBelz

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(RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 11, 2014 08:43PM
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The Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility is where the rich and famous who’ve hit rock bottom go to re-evaluate their lives and try to get back on their feet. Where those who don’t know they have a problem, finally realize what their addictions are doing to their friends, family and careers. The best medical staff in the country work here and confidentiality is a must. All patients are anonymous to the outside world and paparazzi are treated with extreme prejudice.

CharlotteCarrendar

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Re: (RP) Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility
June 11, 2014 09:14PM
Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility – Car park

There was a loud banging coming from within the SSA truck that pulled up in the visitor’s car park at the Facility. An enraged Maxwell was still pounding away, making threats and even some choice words about what he thought of his treatment at the hands of the SSA staff. He had already had a few drinks before he had arrived at the luncheon with his sister, so this topped off with his vicious temper made for quite the scene when the two men opened the back of the van. Bleary eyed, and with veins sticking out of his neck, the curator of one of Seattle’s leading art galleries was acting like a wild animal about to be put down.

“Either of your goons so much as lay a hand on me, I swear, I shall not be held responsible for the damage I shall inflict!”

Both of the men looked to the other and shrugged, as they both entered the van. From the outside you could hear the protests, the swaying of the van as the men took charge of the situation. Maxwell was no match for their heavy handed tactics. They had met his kind before and would so again…even that day. Out at the entrance of the facility a woman stood with a clip board. She wore horn rimmed glasses and her blonde hair caught back neatly in a bun. Doctor Swanson had a white lab coat on, with sensible shoes and stockings. She waited patiently as the new patient was forcibly dragged from the van.

“Ah…Mister Hines. So nice of you to join us. I do hope the ride over was satisfactory. We ensured that the press were kept at bay and your stay with us is both confidential and strictly private as per instructions from your sister. Won’t you follow me?”

She seemed to ignore the fact that Maxwell was being dragged inside. Her manner was pleasant and one could say endearing to her hostile patient. Inside the building, pipe music was playing and a large fountain was in the foyer. The cheerful bubbling sound of water and the pastel coloured walls all meant to be soothing to the patients. To Maxwell however…it all meant doom.

“I want my lawyer!…I want my freedom!” Maxwell bellowed, as Doctor Swanson tittered with laughter.

“I’m so sorry, but your sister waived your rights, and therefore you are legally bound to this institution till you are able to conduct yourself in a manner that is deemed to be…cooperative.” She beamed as she clicked her pen and then pointed to Maxwell’s room.

“It’s not the Hyatt, but it is comfortable. Enjoy your stay, Mister Hines. We will meet again tommorow at two.”

“Noooooooo!” Maxwell screamed as he was dragged into his new digs. A cell no more than five metres by three metres.

When he entered the room, another man was already sitting there. A late night talk show host, if one could believe it. He stood up and said to Maxwell. “Let me guess, the wife got you locked up for your drug problem.” Maxwell cringed as he saw the former TV star, looking disheveled and wearing pyjamas.

“No..it was my sister. What are you in for?”

“I used to suck dick for coke.”

“Err….right.”

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