you.

name: Kristin
age: 18
contact: Winsome Wizard
rp experience: Long time?
how did you hear about us?: I'm already quite a few characters here at Cheshire!

character.

name: Ansley Geppetto
nickname(s): The Puppet
pb: Teddy Geiger
fairy tale & character: Pinocchio - The Adventures of Pinocchio
age: 18
room: B102
doctor: Dr.Lita Kino
diagnosis: compulsive liar, borderline personality disorder
personality:

Ansley is always the type of person to watch people have fun from the sidelines, but if someone pushes him into a social situation, he's usually a little bit awkward. He tries really hard to fit in, and can usually be persuaded into doing things he knows are wrong if it will get people to accept him. He's a friendly kid, and he always tries to make a good impression, but...sometimes he feels he has to lie to get people to like him. He actually feels he has to lie about everything to anyone. Or, no, he doesn't feel he has to, he just...he needs to. Which is a problem.

history:

Ansley Geppetto had a pretty normal childhood…for the most part. Things weren't off to a very good start for the boy, since his mother died while giving birth to him, and things were just a little bit rocky from that point forward. He was raised by his father in the apartment above his wood workshop, and would usually spend his days sitting on the counter, watching as his Dad created masterpieces before his very eyes. He thought of his father was the best person in the entire world, and therefore he was obviously the best father in the entire world. He didn't even mind the fact that he would often be woken up by the sound of a buzz saw at 6 am on a Saturday, because that just meant that his Dad was downstairs creating something brilliant.

But this was before he was too young to notice that his Dad wasn’t anything like he had imagined. No matter what Ansley did, it wasn’t ever good enough. Whenever Mr.Geppetto would ask him a question, he would answer it honestly, and truthfully, but to his father he was always just lying. He was a liar, and lying wasn’t allowed under his roof. So, when Ansley was old enough to write, Mr.Geppetto would make him write over and over again in notebooks ’I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies.’, hoping that one day it would stick. He’d tell his son on several occasions that if he wanted to be a real man, he would have to stop lying, because men don’t lie. At least, real men don’t lie.

So, he wrote in his journals. He wrote it again and again and again, until his hand cramped. He wrote in these journals for years, and would go to school, and tell the truth, and be a good boy so he could grow into a man.

This was until he reached high school, of course. Until he met Roger Lampwick, sophomore year. He was always the boy who would go out of his way to get attention in class. He’d throw paper airplanes at the teacher’s heads while their back was turned, and would point to someone else and blame them for acting up. And one particular day, he told the teacher that is was Ansley who threw the airplane. It was his fault.

Ansley couldn’t believe it. He froze, and his mouth got dry. Everyone was staring at him. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for an answer after Mrs.Lansberry said “Well? Is this true?”

He knew it wasn’t. He knew it had been Robert, but people were paying attention to him. People were looking at him! This…this hadn’t happened in his entire life! He was always the kid with the long floppy hair that covered his face, who never said a word to anyone. But now people were looking at him, and his heart was racing fast in his chest. He knew Robert was the most popular kid in school, and if he ratted him out there would be hell to pay. So, he lied. He lied for the first time in his life, his words caught in his throat as he stuttered out an answer. “Y-y-yes it..it, it was m-m-me…”

What was that? Ansley had never stuttered in his entire life! But then again he hadn’t ever lied in his entire life.

But it felt good. It felt great, even. He loved it, and people loved him for it because he had taken the blame. He was popular, because Roger Lampwick was his friend after that. He was his friend for lying! But people saw that he was easily manipulated, and he would do anything to fit in, to be normal and popular and liked. They said jump and he asked how high. But it was still attention. These people were his friends.

So he did it again. And again. And again, stuttering every time, but no one knew that it was because he was lying. No one had ever heard him speak while telling the truth! Except for the teachers, of course. And this was where he got in trouble. This was where his lying got him in trouble.

He was sent to the guidance counselor’s office one day. His name was Mr.Cricket, and he was kind, and gentle, and made Ansley feel…comfortable. He asked him questions, and sometimes he would get the truth, and sometimes he wouldn’t. It was more than obvious to him when he wouldn’t get the right answer. And Ansely knew this. He did, he wasn’t stupid. But Mr.Cricket gave him advice. He tried to lead him into the right direction, and would try to tell him what to do to stay out of trouble. To stay away from Roger, to make new friends. He’d just sit there, slouched in his chair, listening to him speak, wondering if Mr.Cricket was going to tell his father. Would he tell him what he said? Would he know?

He didn’t know. Mr.Cricket never said a word…it was Mr.Foulfellow, the principal of his highschool who told his father about his lying, since it hadn’t stopped.. Needless to say, Geppetto was furious. He locked Ansley in his room for a week, making him write ‘I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies.’ Again. And again. And again, without food or water.

When he was finally allowed back out of his room, he was pale, and looked ill. Mr.Cricket asked him what had happened. Where he had been, why he hadn’t been to see him. And he just froze. He froze, and stared at the floor, his entire body shaking. His first impulse was to lie. Even after anything he wanted to lie. But no. He looked right into his eyes, and without even the tiniest trace of a stutter, he told the truth. He told his counselor about the books, and what he had to write, and how he was treated. And then everything went quiet. He felt numb, and he felt scared.

The next day, the cops arrived at his house. They had a warrant to search his room, and found the journals. Hundreds of them, filled with the same words. The same words that haunted Ansley each and every day. Then they took Ansley away. He was still 17, at the time. It was just one day before his 18th birthday, so he was still a minor, and Geppetto was charged with psychological child abuse, and was sent to jail. But Ansley, on the other hand, was sent somewhere else. They deamed him psychologically unstable, twisted by the actions of his father for so many years, and was sent to get help. To get the help he needed, and deserved. He was sent to Cheshire Crossings. Happy Birthday.

Ansley would love to say that he loves it there, but hell…he would just be lying.
examples:


Third: Jeannie Lampanelli

First:

I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies.

I've written those words for so many years, but yet they seem so much better now. It's amazing what one word can do to a sentance, isn't it? I really do love writing it out. It's refreshing. It makes me feel calm. I'm at peace with the world when I think of all those journals, and my father, and my bedroom at home. From now on, I will never lie again. I've learned my lesson. I'll be a good boy so I can grow up into a man.



What? Don't you believe me?

picture: