There are an infinite number of dimensions, and in these dimensions an infinite number of worlds. On these worlds are unimaginable numbers of life forms going about their cosmically tiny existences. From this incredible diversity, there are bound to be a few poor souls with an unfortunate combination: exceptional physical or mental gifts… and madness.
It’s not as rare as you’d think for superhumans (or werewolves, cyborgs, deep space aliens, demons, zombies, angels, dinosaurs, and so on) to completely snap under the burdens of their extraordinary lives. Ever wonder what we’d do with Superman if he flipped his lid and started destroying cities?
Two words: Osmond’s Institute.
Thanks to some pretty exceptional, cutting edge, we-might-not-actually-know-how-it-works technology, the Institute is uniquely blessed with the ability to admit patients from all points in space and time. Though we seem to get an unusually large number of patients from Earth-like worlds, more than a few are from distant futures or ancient pasts. Some are completely synthetic, some have synthetic bits. But one thing they all have in common is that their unique talents or abilities make them too dangerous to be housed and controlled on the world in which they originate.
It’s not as rare as you’d think for superhumans (or werewolves, cyborgs, deep space aliens, demons, zombies, angels, dinosaurs, and so on) to completely snap under the burdens of their extraordinary lives. Ever wonder what we’d do with Superman if he flipped his lid and started destroying cities?
Two words: Osmond’s Institute.
Thanks to some pretty exceptional, cutting edge, we-might-not-actually-know-how-it-works technology, the Institute is uniquely blessed with the ability to admit patients from all points in space and time. Though we seem to get an unusually large number of patients from Earth-like worlds, more than a few are from distant futures or ancient pasts. Some are completely synthetic, some have synthetic bits. But one thing they all have in common is that their unique talents or abilities make them too dangerous to be housed and controlled on the world in which they originate.
The Distant Past of Osmond’s and Orrace
Long ago, and less far away than you would think, there was a man by the name of Horatio Osmond. He was a brilliant scientist, and discovered a means of not just interstellar, but interdimensional travel… though it was largely by mistake. Luckily, he wound up in a time and place where he found scientists from worlds unimaginable to you and me, and they helped him perfect the method. He would eventually discover (with their help) how to create an entire dimension, whole unto itself.
It was a very small dimension, to be sure, but basically a perfect replica of a slice of Earth. Initially, Horatio intended to use his creation to house political refugees from a multitude of points in time and space. It was only a matter of months before the entire dimension was nearly torn apart by someone who really wanted a particular asylum-seeker. Since Horatio was a genius and all, he figured that it would be a great cover to open an interdimensional insane asylum in the dimension. Unfortunately, once he opened the asylum and the committed lunatics started arriving, most of his political refugees took flight to parts unknown.
Since that time (several hundred years ago), Orrace has housed both Osmond’s Institute and the town called Orrace. (Nobody really knows why it’s named that. Horatio was a genius, but very odd.) The town is occupied by between 20,000 and 30,000 people. These people are descendants of Institute workers, descendants of the original refugees who didn’t think the mental hospital was bad enough to make them leave, or descendants of recovered mental patients. Though the Institute itself is capable of housing literally all forms of life, the atmosphere and gravity in Orrace’s natural environment is only conductive to beings who can survive in an oxygen atmosphere. As a result, many are human or humanoid: humans, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, mages, paladins, goblins, orcs, trolls, centaurs, minotaurs, and so on. There are also a few dragons, a significant population of anthropomorphic creatures, Elves, fae and faeries ranging in size from less than a foot tall to normal human proportions, more than a couple animals who are capable of carrying on conversations with passersby. They have electricity and sewage, of course. They also have a shopping mall, a hospital, grocery stores, gas stations, fast food restaurants, and several other sorts of places that it’s difficult to explain and more difficult to believe. For instance, there is a Wal-Mart, but it’s a great cavernous place that looks more like an indoor bazaar than the Wal-Marts you see in our dimesion. It sells things like bottled blood, livestock, produce that behaves as if it’s alive, tubes of creams labeled in languages specific to bizarre dimensions, and many similarly strange items. The titles of Orrace Hospital’s doctors are things like Biomechanical Implant Expert, Lupian Internist, and Fae Curse Removal Specialist.
Osmond’s Institute stands on a hill overlooking the town of Orrace. It is probably capable of housing an excess of 2,000 patients, though it appears small. The secret is that a large portion of the Institute exists underground, built downwards into the hill. Many of these levels house life forms that can’t tolerate the atmosphere above. Exactly what technology exists to accommodate these patients is known only to the Institute’s Administrator. This Administrator is always a member of the Osmond family, and the tradition is to pass the position from father to son.
It was a very small dimension, to be sure, but basically a perfect replica of a slice of Earth. Initially, Horatio intended to use his creation to house political refugees from a multitude of points in time and space. It was only a matter of months before the entire dimension was nearly torn apart by someone who really wanted a particular asylum-seeker. Since Horatio was a genius and all, he figured that it would be a great cover to open an interdimensional insane asylum in the dimension. Unfortunately, once he opened the asylum and the committed lunatics started arriving, most of his political refugees took flight to parts unknown.
Since that time (several hundred years ago), Orrace has housed both Osmond’s Institute and the town called Orrace. (Nobody really knows why it’s named that. Horatio was a genius, but very odd.) The town is occupied by between 20,000 and 30,000 people. These people are descendants of Institute workers, descendants of the original refugees who didn’t think the mental hospital was bad enough to make them leave, or descendants of recovered mental patients. Though the Institute itself is capable of housing literally all forms of life, the atmosphere and gravity in Orrace’s natural environment is only conductive to beings who can survive in an oxygen atmosphere. As a result, many are human or humanoid: humans, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, mages, paladins, goblins, orcs, trolls, centaurs, minotaurs, and so on. There are also a few dragons, a significant population of anthropomorphic creatures, Elves, fae and faeries ranging in size from less than a foot tall to normal human proportions, more than a couple animals who are capable of carrying on conversations with passersby. They have electricity and sewage, of course. They also have a shopping mall, a hospital, grocery stores, gas stations, fast food restaurants, and several other sorts of places that it’s difficult to explain and more difficult to believe. For instance, there is a Wal-Mart, but it’s a great cavernous place that looks more like an indoor bazaar than the Wal-Marts you see in our dimesion. It sells things like bottled blood, livestock, produce that behaves as if it’s alive, tubes of creams labeled in languages specific to bizarre dimensions, and many similarly strange items. The titles of Orrace Hospital’s doctors are things like Biomechanical Implant Expert, Lupian Internist, and Fae Curse Removal Specialist.
Osmond’s Institute stands on a hill overlooking the town of Orrace. It is probably capable of housing an excess of 2,000 patients, though it appears small. The secret is that a large portion of the Institute exists underground, built downwards into the hill. Many of these levels house life forms that can’t tolerate the atmosphere above. Exactly what technology exists to accommodate these patients is known only to the Institute’s Administrator. This Administrator is always a member of the Osmond family, and the tradition is to pass the position from father to son.
The Administrator
Not much is truly known about Morgan Osmond among the patients and staff. They know what he looks like: six foot tall, lanky, with dark brown hair and deep, shifting violet eyes. He might have been handsome if it wasn’t for the terrible good humor in his face. It’s not difficult to decide from his word and manner that he’s probably one of the creepiest creepers who ever did creep. Morgan’s job was handed down to him by his father, Milton Osmond, and even though Morgan’s been running the place for nearly seventy years now… he still looks to be no older than his early thirties. It’s only disturbing because as far as anyone has ever known, the Osmond family is strictly human. It’s generally assumed that Morgan is unmarried and childless, as no one in the Institute has ever seen a woman or child in his company. Though it’s entirely possible he has a whole family locked away somewhere in Admin, we consider this highly unlikely.
Morgan rarely leaves the Administration Wing these days. The only time he communicates with staff anymore is to send them handwritten or typed messages to demand that they do some pretty unethical and distasteful things to their patients. All the members of the staff who have spoken out against these new practices have been fired or …worse… simply disappeared. Patients, too, have started disappearing. They mysteriously lose consciousness, never to awake. They’re then transported somewhere into the windowless rooms of the basement and not ever heard from again. When this happens to a patient, nothing is ever said to the patients who knew them, under the pretense that medical information can not be discussed without a release. Staff are told only that the nature and source of the problem are unclear but the Institute’s research team is diligently working on deciphering and rectifying the trend. Furthermore, while a hundred years ago the Institute was turning out at least ten recoveries a year, in the past fifty years only three patients have been released in good health.
Down below, in Orrace, unbeknownst to the patients and staff, rumors run wild about the sudden silence on the hill. After the exodus of staff from the Institute, all contact with the rest of the dimension was cut off. Phone calls to the place always result in a busy signal. The few attempts made to go up the hill and speak with Morgan in person were barred at the first gates by the guards. Three times in the past, things have gotten so out of hand at the Institute that horrors have spilled over into Orrace. The residents of the city are holding their breath, quietly preparing for a fourth storm… one they hope won’t actually come.
Morgan rarely leaves the Administration Wing these days. The only time he communicates with staff anymore is to send them handwritten or typed messages to demand that they do some pretty unethical and distasteful things to their patients. All the members of the staff who have spoken out against these new practices have been fired or …worse… simply disappeared. Patients, too, have started disappearing. They mysteriously lose consciousness, never to awake. They’re then transported somewhere into the windowless rooms of the basement and not ever heard from again. When this happens to a patient, nothing is ever said to the patients who knew them, under the pretense that medical information can not be discussed without a release. Staff are told only that the nature and source of the problem are unclear but the Institute’s research team is diligently working on deciphering and rectifying the trend. Furthermore, while a hundred years ago the Institute was turning out at least ten recoveries a year, in the past fifty years only three patients have been released in good health.
Down below, in Orrace, unbeknownst to the patients and staff, rumors run wild about the sudden silence on the hill. After the exodus of staff from the Institute, all contact with the rest of the dimension was cut off. Phone calls to the place always result in a busy signal. The few attempts made to go up the hill and speak with Morgan in person were barred at the first gates by the guards. Three times in the past, things have gotten so out of hand at the Institute that horrors have spilled over into Orrace. The residents of the city are holding their breath, quietly preparing for a fourth storm… one they hope won’t actually come.
Physical Descriptions of The Institute’s Premises and Interior
A one-lane gravel drive winds back and forth up the hill to get to Osmond’s Institute. For the first half of the journey, the road passes through undeveloped woodlands. At the halfway point a driver will cross through a double line of twelve foot tall chain link fence topped with coils of razor wire. This fence is not visible through the trees from any of the Institute’s windows, though it circles the base of the hill completely. The last third of the trip (and the top third of the hill) have been stripped of the natural forest covering. First there is an eight foot tall hedge, nearly six feet wide. The plant looks like some strange cross of holly, acacia and thistle. (In other words, it’s green and leafy but covered in eight different sizes of thorns and spines.) Next is the ten-foot, ornate stone wall. The wall and hedge also circle the hill and are clearly visible from inside the Institute. Within the wall there is only manicured lawn.
There is a speakerbox and automatic gate at the stone wall. The double gate near the bottom of the hill is guarded by four men, 24/7.
The building itself is surprisingly unimposing. It appears to be at least three stories high all the way around, with a fourth floor which exists only in one area of the building. It is made of a pale yellow stone accented in white, which has grown dingy and chipped over its long years. All the windows and glass look shiny and new, however… and they also have a very subtle but completely effective one-way tint so it is impossible to peer in. The tint is almost impossible to see from within looking out, but some creatures with highly sensitive vision may be able to discern it. The windows also have alloy frames that are basically unbreakable, and shatterproof glass capable of withstanding all but the most forceful attacks.
When a person walks in to the main door of the Institute, they find themselves in a large, empty entry hall. There are skylights in the ceiling, so in at least a few places the building is open all the way to the fourth floor. The floor in this entryway is black and white checkered tile. There are no plants, no reception desk, no guard booth. The front door is not usually locked. The wide double-doors to the right are, however, locked. This is the way to the patient care areas. The ornate oak door to the left is not locked, and just on the other side there is what looks to be a desk for a secretary… though it is usually vacant. From that small reception room three hallways run towards the other parts of the Administration Wing. What’s back there, nobody really knows for sure.
If you could walk through the locked double-doors to the right, you’d be walking into the areas where patients of the Institute spend all of their time. (The patients who can tolerate Orrace’s atmosphere, anyway.) The first floor contains the Cafeteria, the Library, the Gymnasium, the Medication Room and Pharmacy, the Music Room, the Recreation Room, the Great Hall, and the entrance to the Courtyard. The Library and the Gymnasium intrude into the second level, though only accessible from the first floor.
The second floor is the whole of patient housing above ground. The Institute goes a bit further back than one would think looking at it from the driveway. There are 100 patient rooms on that level, though currently many of them are unoccupied. Each room has a closet and a small bathroom with a stand-up shower, toilet and sink. There is a window in each room but curtains of any sort are not permitted. (For patients who need absolute darkness during some periods, the windows are capable of blacking themselves out at a nurse’s direction or on a set schedule.) Windows in the patient rooms are additionally reinforced with titanium mesh. Patients are initially provided with a desk and chair, a twin extra-long bed, an armchair and a small side table. They may request a nightstand and a small bookshelf as well. Specially tailored rooms are available with unique furnishings custom-made to meet the physical needs of unusually shaped/sized creatures… though creatures of extreme size (large or small) are generally housed downstairs and not allowed into the general population.
The third floor contains operating suites, many medical diagnostic facilities, and staff quarters. It is not accessible to patients unless they are accompanied by medical staff. The staff apartments have a living room and kitchenette, a bedroom and a full bathroom. The area containing the staff quarters is separate from medical areas and is accessible only from staff corridors on the first floor.
Within the Institute, a shiny new badge pad system controls access to different areas within the building. All the doors within the patient care area remain unlocked during daylight hours. (Rec Room, Music Room, Caf, etc.) Doors leading into staff corridors and nurses’ stations are locked, as is the door into the front entry hall. There is also a locked room at the very back of the library, tucked into a corner. At nine PM all patient doors lock, and they do not open again until seven AM. Lights are out from ten PM until six AM.
Though all the facilities seem as if they were well-made, it looks as if they’ve been poorly maintained as of late. The lawns and shrubs always look well-trimmed, but nobody ever cuts the grass; that’s the only clue that it’s fake. Inside, the door seals are cracked, the paint is faded or chipping, there are stains on the walls and ceiling, leaks in the pipes just aren’t being fixed, not all of the lights work and many of the door hinges are squeaking and rusty. Most of the staff seem tired, overworked, and generally listless. The patients are often abused by the employees, physically and mentally, and receive quite brutal and dubious “treatments” for their psychological ailments. Despite constant rumors that things were not always like this, conditions have failed to improve and it has generally become a bad idea to discuss such things… and nobody will say why, exactly. Most of the upstairs patients are not generally made aware of how many floors and rooms exist below ground.
Osmond’s Institute has in its possession all of the latest and greatest medical technologies from a vast array of worlds. No matter where your patient comes from, they are capable of supplying homeworld food as necessary, and can synthesize and manufacture effective medications.
There is a speakerbox and automatic gate at the stone wall. The double gate near the bottom of the hill is guarded by four men, 24/7.
The building itself is surprisingly unimposing. It appears to be at least three stories high all the way around, with a fourth floor which exists only in one area of the building. It is made of a pale yellow stone accented in white, which has grown dingy and chipped over its long years. All the windows and glass look shiny and new, however… and they also have a very subtle but completely effective one-way tint so it is impossible to peer in. The tint is almost impossible to see from within looking out, but some creatures with highly sensitive vision may be able to discern it. The windows also have alloy frames that are basically unbreakable, and shatterproof glass capable of withstanding all but the most forceful attacks.
When a person walks in to the main door of the Institute, they find themselves in a large, empty entry hall. There are skylights in the ceiling, so in at least a few places the building is open all the way to the fourth floor. The floor in this entryway is black and white checkered tile. There are no plants, no reception desk, no guard booth. The front door is not usually locked. The wide double-doors to the right are, however, locked. This is the way to the patient care areas. The ornate oak door to the left is not locked, and just on the other side there is what looks to be a desk for a secretary… though it is usually vacant. From that small reception room three hallways run towards the other parts of the Administration Wing. What’s back there, nobody really knows for sure.
If you could walk through the locked double-doors to the right, you’d be walking into the areas where patients of the Institute spend all of their time. (The patients who can tolerate Orrace’s atmosphere, anyway.) The first floor contains the Cafeteria, the Library, the Gymnasium, the Medication Room and Pharmacy, the Music Room, the Recreation Room, the Great Hall, and the entrance to the Courtyard. The Library and the Gymnasium intrude into the second level, though only accessible from the first floor.
The second floor is the whole of patient housing above ground. The Institute goes a bit further back than one would think looking at it from the driveway. There are 100 patient rooms on that level, though currently many of them are unoccupied. Each room has a closet and a small bathroom with a stand-up shower, toilet and sink. There is a window in each room but curtains of any sort are not permitted. (For patients who need absolute darkness during some periods, the windows are capable of blacking themselves out at a nurse’s direction or on a set schedule.) Windows in the patient rooms are additionally reinforced with titanium mesh. Patients are initially provided with a desk and chair, a twin extra-long bed, an armchair and a small side table. They may request a nightstand and a small bookshelf as well. Specially tailored rooms are available with unique furnishings custom-made to meet the physical needs of unusually shaped/sized creatures… though creatures of extreme size (large or small) are generally housed downstairs and not allowed into the general population.
The third floor contains operating suites, many medical diagnostic facilities, and staff quarters. It is not accessible to patients unless they are accompanied by medical staff. The staff apartments have a living room and kitchenette, a bedroom and a full bathroom. The area containing the staff quarters is separate from medical areas and is accessible only from staff corridors on the first floor.
Within the Institute, a shiny new badge pad system controls access to different areas within the building. All the doors within the patient care area remain unlocked during daylight hours. (Rec Room, Music Room, Caf, etc.) Doors leading into staff corridors and nurses’ stations are locked, as is the door into the front entry hall. There is also a locked room at the very back of the library, tucked into a corner. At nine PM all patient doors lock, and they do not open again until seven AM. Lights are out from ten PM until six AM.
Though all the facilities seem as if they were well-made, it looks as if they’ve been poorly maintained as of late. The lawns and shrubs always look well-trimmed, but nobody ever cuts the grass; that’s the only clue that it’s fake. Inside, the door seals are cracked, the paint is faded or chipping, there are stains on the walls and ceiling, leaks in the pipes just aren’t being fixed, not all of the lights work and many of the door hinges are squeaking and rusty. Most of the staff seem tired, overworked, and generally listless. The patients are often abused by the employees, physically and mentally, and receive quite brutal and dubious “treatments” for their psychological ailments. Despite constant rumors that things were not always like this, conditions have failed to improve and it has generally become a bad idea to discuss such things… and nobody will say why, exactly. Most of the upstairs patients are not generally made aware of how many floors and rooms exist below ground.
Osmond’s Institute has in its possession all of the latest and greatest medical technologies from a vast array of worlds. No matter where your patient comes from, they are capable of supplying homeworld food as necessary, and can synthesize and manufacture effective medications.
Miscellaneous Patient Information
Some personal articles are permitted to patients; photographs, books made of fire-retardant paper (these are custom-made copies of known works, not books brought from home), sketchbooks and notebooks of that same paper which are not spiral bound, a pen or pencil (This item is kept in lock-up by a nurse and must be checked in and out on a daily basis.), and various other approved belongings. Though patients may not wear any personal clothing, they may be permitted to keep one or two items with sentimental value for display purposes.
Patients are required to wear scrubs in a limited variety of colors. Men are permitted to wear scrubs in powder blue, royal blue, navy blue or red. Women have a choice of soft pink, antique rose, lilac or royal purple. Species which are asexual, hermaphroditic, capable of changing their gender, etc, have the option of white, hunter green, khaki or grey. Other gender/sexual orientations may be assigned other colors as determined necessary by The Administrator. Species of non-humanoid body type, especially those without visible genitalia, may have a wide variety of coverage options based on their anatomy and the customs of their homeworld.
A note on staff dress code: Doctors, Nurses and other staff may wear any color not currently in use by patients. Standard Institute-issue colors available are black, seafoam green, yellow or dark brown. Nurses are permitted to purchase scrubs in Orrace, but must submit them to the Institute’s laundry department to be embroidered with the Institute’s logo and staff member’s name on the left breast or left sleeve (on shortsleeved shirts only).
Patients are required to wear scrubs in a limited variety of colors. Men are permitted to wear scrubs in powder blue, royal blue, navy blue or red. Women have a choice of soft pink, antique rose, lilac or royal purple. Species which are asexual, hermaphroditic, capable of changing their gender, etc, have the option of white, hunter green, khaki or grey. Other gender/sexual orientations may be assigned other colors as determined necessary by The Administrator. Species of non-humanoid body type, especially those without visible genitalia, may have a wide variety of coverage options based on their anatomy and the customs of their homeworld.
A note on staff dress code: Doctors, Nurses and other staff may wear any color not currently in use by patients. Standard Institute-issue colors available are black, seafoam green, yellow or dark brown. Nurses are permitted to purchase scrubs in Orrace, but must submit them to the Institute’s laundry department to be embroidered with the Institute’s logo and staff member’s name on the left breast or left sleeve (on shortsleeved shirts only).
Your Character
Now, what you’ve all been waiting for, through my long winded ranting. “But Maiden,” you ask, “who do I get to play?!”
In the strictest terms, Osmond’s Institute is a sanitarium for the supernatural; incredibly strong and seriously mentally ill creatures from all dimensions. To be admitted to the Institute in the first place, your character must meet these requirements: somehow supernatural, and suffering from a serious mental illness or defect. Part of your challenge during this roleplay is to have a mentally ill character who still manages to participate in conversations, Institute-organized events, and to keep track of the subtleties in their own environment. Make no mistake, half the fun of this roleplay is when the patients are pushed past their breaking point and flip out, triggering many of the other patients into flipping out, making the nurses deal with a complete clusterfuck of incredibly strong loonies. The other half of the fun is seeing them overcome their weaknesses and faults, pushed into a strange clarity by their dire situations, and making steps towards recovery through the bonds they form with their fellow patients.
So, you want someone who’s crazy, but a playable sort of crazy.
Next, I strongly encourage you to be imaginative and think outside the box on your character’s race and origin. Part of the beauty of Osmond’s being an interdimensional insane asylum is that it can accept patients from literally any world. You can make up an entire dimension and world to house your character. Though a bulk of our characters tend to come from an Earth very like our own, some of my favorites have come from another universe’s deep space future, or from historical periods. You can literally pick anywhere in space and time as the origin for your PC. Take advantage of it! We get a lot of vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, zombies, cyborgs, and surprisingly enough, humans. Please be aware that I will only accept one of each race in patients.
In the strictest terms, Osmond’s Institute is a sanitarium for the supernatural; incredibly strong and seriously mentally ill creatures from all dimensions. To be admitted to the Institute in the first place, your character must meet these requirements: somehow supernatural, and suffering from a serious mental illness or defect. Part of your challenge during this roleplay is to have a mentally ill character who still manages to participate in conversations, Institute-organized events, and to keep track of the subtleties in their own environment. Make no mistake, half the fun of this roleplay is when the patients are pushed past their breaking point and flip out, triggering many of the other patients into flipping out, making the nurses deal with a complete clusterfuck of incredibly strong loonies. The other half of the fun is seeing them overcome their weaknesses and faults, pushed into a strange clarity by their dire situations, and making steps towards recovery through the bonds they form with their fellow patients.
So, you want someone who’s crazy, but a playable sort of crazy.
Next, I strongly encourage you to be imaginative and think outside the box on your character’s race and origin. Part of the beauty of Osmond’s being an interdimensional insane asylum is that it can accept patients from literally any world. You can make up an entire dimension and world to house your character. Though a bulk of our characters tend to come from an Earth very like our own, some of my favorites have come from another universe’s deep space future, or from historical periods. You can literally pick anywhere in space and time as the origin for your PC. Take advantage of it! We get a lot of vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, zombies, cyborgs, and surprisingly enough, humans. Please be aware that I will only accept one of each race in patients.
