July Support Group

[tramitem]

Who: OPEN (Including to all the new characters who app throughout the month)
What: Bureau Run, Non-Mandatory Support Group
When: There are meetings at various times during the week, whatever works for your character between 8 am and 10 pm
Where: There are meetings at various locations around NYC, whatever works for your character
Rating/Warnings: We ask that players put appropriate warning labels in the subject lines of their threads as they become necessary


There’s a generic spread of food on a table off to one side of the room: donuts, muffins, bagels, and cookies; coffee, lemonade, water, and because one of the Different asked for it, hot chocolate. Maybe you’re hungry enough to try it—it’s free after all.

Or maybe you can’t stomach anything, given the event you’re attending.

The space is a local rec center. The beige-painted cinder block walls and the fluorescent lighting are a terrible combination. Maybe they are reminiscent of the public school you attended in your youth?

Why are you here? Curiosity? Maybe the Bureau official will say something that will help you make sense of things? The meeting was interesting—who knew there were so many people like you, receiving memories of a past life? The group was led by someone from The Bureau—the Department of Medical Services. Some people are staying in their chairs and chatting—they must know each other from previous meetings. Some of them are gravitating towards the food.

How do you feel about tonight? Has it helped you come to terms with the dream of memories you’re having? Maybe it’s time to talk to others, get an understanding of their experience.

Comments

Jim Hopper | OTA | Will match style

[hoponpop]

Hopper is reluctant to be here. He arrives late, takes a plate full of donuts and a cup of coffee, and sullenly slouches in a seat in the second row of the circle. He munches on the donuts when others are speaking, and when they call on him, he waves them off.

Talking one-on-one with other attendees is a bit different than talking to a group leader about this.

After the official meeting breaks up, Hopper remains, working on his donuts. If someone is to sit down next to him, he tracks the person with his eyes, wondering if they'll have something to say.

[serpentinthegarden]

Anthony took one look at the man sitting there munching away on doughnuts and with that hat! He snapped his fingers and immediately pointed the guy out to no one but himself as everyone else was busy leaving.

"Cop. I'm right aren't I? Your whole look practically screams police."

Which he wasn't overly concerned with he was just making an observation. What was of interest to him was spoken of in a more conspiratorial whisper.

"Are you here as one of the 'Different' or did your unit actually place some one undercover to root out the truth of this organization?"

[hoponpop]

Hopper frowns. That's the thing, he does look like a policeman.

"Quit the force last year."

The continuation makes him snort.

"I'm 'Different'," he says, with a bitter undertone. "You bet I am."

[not_as_i_do]

Martin blocked off part of his schedule so that he could make it to his second one of these things at a decent hour. As such, he gives a little wave to the man with the plate of donuts.

"At least the coffee's fresh this time. I guess once they realized we have to deal with this ... portal stuff ... they could at least caffienate us properly." He thinks about offering a handshake, but the other man has his hands full, so he simply pauses for a nod and smile instead. "Martin Whitly."

[hoponpop]

[ Hopper gives a tight nod and a small wave in return with a hand that's still pinching half a donut. ]

Jim Hopper.

[ He's reluctant to make friends here, but he doesn't mean to be rude. ]

Coffee's all right. You're right, it could be a lot worse.

[consortofalderaan]

Bail did take a seat next to Hopper, calmly, but yes, deliberately.

"Your face is new. I don't come to every meeting, but I've been to enough by now to spot the look of someone's first time. Even if they don't say so during the meeting."

He held out a hand. "I'm Bail."

[hoponpop]

Hopper puts down his donut, wipes his fingertips on his napkin, then takes the hand for a handshake.

"Jim," he says. "I suppose it's pretty obvious, huh?"

Harlan Rosenberg | OTA

[tougholdmodel]

Despite his reluctance to acknowledge the bizarre occurrence that had plunged him into an alarmingly vivid hallucination straight out of science fiction, the aging doctor had been unable to put it entirely out of his mind. Even when he tried to keep himself adequately distracted, standing alone on a subway platform instilled a subtle unease it never had before. The experience had imprinted on him more deeply than he cared to admit.

To make matters worse, as if the hallucination itself had not been intense enough, that man that spoke to him after it ended tried to make it seem to be the start of more. He had listened to everything he was told, and his questions had yielded nothing of particular use. While the doctor could not outright dismiss what sounded correct in his gut, he could not in good conscious simply accept what he was told without further investigation. The scientist in him demanded more proof, and the skeptic in him wondered about the intentions of the group that had so suddenly been on the scene.

Dr. Harlan Rosenberg put off any investigation for nearly a week before he had another day off from the Emergency Room. He had time, so without a better excuse to delay longer, he attended his first - and hopefully last - support group meeting. Dressed in a plain white shirt and black slacks, his immediate impressions were reflected in a frown when he entered the muted space reserved for the meeting. Bypassing the spread of food and drinks, he stayed silent and took a seat. There he listened to what those involved had to say with arms comfortably crossed, and made no effort to contribute to the conversation. A single roll of his eyes would be the only real response at the end of the discussion led by the Bureau member. He does not like how widespread this seems to reach.

As some others rise from chairs, Harlan remains seated and fishes his phone from his pocket to check for new messages out of habit. Anyone close might hear him quietly grumble, “Hhfm. Maybe next week they’ll have pamphlets for a time share.”

[serpentinthegarden]

Anthony hadn't participated in the chattering of the meeting. He hung close to the wall, watching and observing as he usually did at these things, but upon passing by the new face he couldn't help but overhear on account of he was purposely listening for the little things people muttered under their breath.

"Wrong meeting. The real estate office is down the next block."

[tougholdmodel]

Head tilting back up as he looks up from his phone, he rests the device screen down on his leg to address the redhead he had noticed hanging back at a distance for the meeting’s duration. His voice is gruff, but his irritation is clearly not at the stranger, “Wish it were as easy as being in the wrong place.”

A wary glance given to the Bureau member still in the room keeps him from saying more for the moment.

Re: Harlan Rosenberg | OTA

[consortofalderaan]

Bail smiled at the joke the man next to him made.

Though he didn't like the Bureau's approach - none of this was build on a foundation of trust - he still came to these meetings. He didn't want to give the Bureau any more of his time, but he was trying to make connections with the other different, one on one.

"As long as it's on this world, I think I might be interested in a vacation."

I apologize for the delay

[tougholdmodel]

Sarcasm tends to be a good outlet for minor frustrations.

The older man looks up from his phone when he hears the reply and looks over to the younger man near him. A bit puzzled by the response, he replies, “Won’t deny a vacation sounds like an appropriate response to all this, but I didn’t realize the space programs were taking tourists.”

Wei Wuxian | OTA

[chenqing_player]

Wei Wuxian has tried to stay away from the meetings..but now he has four of these memories and it's starting to make his brain hurt with everything starting to come back to him much faster then it was before. Not to mention it seems like the city is getting louder. Almost as soon as he woke up from his last memories, voices kept screaming in his head. He can't really understand them, nor does he want to. he just wants them to shut up.

So he has been a little on edge the last couple days as he works through the fact that he might actually be dealing with some sort of side effect of these memories. Because of that he decided to actually attend another of these meetings and see if anyone else ever had to deal with their brain being overrun by a millions voices speaking all at once.

He collects a bottle of water from the table and sticks a couple aspirin in his mouth, chasing them down with the water. He moves to one of the chairs and plops down into it. Even though this is his second meeting, it's his first time making it past the food table.

"So does talking about things actually even help?"

[hardtoignore]

Ah. So he was here.

Taking a slow breath in and then releasing it slowly, Clarence worked up the nerve to approach Wei Wuxian, scratching at the nap of his neck as he slouched into a nearby chair. "H-hey. What's up? I thought you said this wasn't really your kinda scene..."

[chenqing_player]

He looks over and offers a smile, "it's not..I hate these things. But I guess if I'm going to keep having memories then I better get used to coming." Especially since apparently he's going to be joining the 'I've got fun new powers' club pretty soon. He had hoped his memories involving the spirits was just a fluke..but he's thinking he's going to be finding out for sure soon.

Re: Wei Wuxian | OTA

[consortofalderaan]

Bail noticed Wuxian when the young man came in, but, as with everyone else at the meeting, he didn't keep track of his every movement.

Bail, was, as usual, quiet throughout the meeting, choosing to be skipped rather than share his experience. The lack of any attempt to build trust grated on him. But he kept those thoughts also to himself.

When Wuxian sat down, Bail did give him his full attention.

"In the right setting, yes, talk therapy can help."

[inquiryguqin]

One person in the group is the quiet, eccentric soon-to-be professor. He doesn't say anything about his dream or talk about it to the others. He looks perplex and confused, crossing his arms in concentration.

"I find writing down in a journal helps." Tilting his head curiously, noticing he's popping aspirin. "Do you have a headache?"

July 13th and some days after [cw: mentions of magically hurting children]

[hardtoignore]

Clarence wasn't really sure if coming here was the best idea, but waking up this morning after seeing... well, what he saw, it was enough to give him the push he needed to try and seek out some form of stability. He didn't really feel like he could burden Elliott with his fear and Wei Wuxian... well, if he ran into him he would talk about stuff, but this was the part of his magic that Clarence feared.

Sure, knocking away arrows and building a magical barrier was all fine and good, but using his magic to breathe fire at someone... Or causing Teekl to grow into a vicious beast... Or straight up electrocuting other kids...

What am I? Was he? Is he? Elliott's freak out about possibly not changing their fates in this world, it really pushed the boundaries of Clarence's own emotional stability.

Anyone looking on will probably notice that a slim, mostly-black clad teenager with a plate of untouched donuts in his lap is just sitting there. Still in the circle of chairs just... staring into space.

[inquiryguqin]

One of the listeners in the group noticed his anguish from feeling the intensity of the memory recall. Feeling empathetic, he quietly got up and gets him a cup of water, and offers it to him as he was staring into space.

"Here, drink this. You'll feel better."

Lan Wangji | ota

[inquiryguqin]

He didn't expect it, but the first memory slammed into him before his final exams. It was very clear, and in the dream, he sort of knew who he is in it. When he woke up, he immediately wrote down every single detail he could remember in a journal.

Lan Wangji waited until he finished his final exams, because that comes first. It's this exam that determines his graduation next month. Later that evening, once he complete his exam, he left the university to attend the support meeting.

Sipping coffe, "I really don't know. I was stressing out. I had final exams, you know? But I think the dream looks too real. It plays like a move. But I do know I am the person in it. In the dream, I'm trying to save a close friend of mine. When I woke up, I written everything down."

Turning to the group, "Do you think more memories will soon follow? I wish I could have more details. My dream is a mystery."

Re: Lan Wangji | ota

[captainspain]

Jack considers the question for a long moment before answering. "I think they will...or more will," he says, "ever since my first memory showed up...it's been like a door opened up and I can't get it closed again."

He smiles. "I'm not sure I want more memories to show up, but also I...I want to know more about who I might have been."

[howkickassiam]

He and Wangji had made plans to get coffee sometime, so it only made sense to arrange to come to the same support group meeting to have a talk. He has his own treats on his lap, and listens as Wangji speaks. He nods through Wangji's explanation, then responds afterwards.

"From what I know about this whole thing, we just keep getting more memories. Presumably until we remember everything about that other life."

Jeremy (Jem) Marlow | OTA

[faimommy]

Jem had managed to find his way this far. Seeing the food at the table as he enters, he curiously makes his way over, claiming a donut and a lemonade for himself before he takes a seat. And he listens attentively to the meeting, feeling more at ease as time goes on. Others are, indeed, like himself. Hearing their stories, and wondering what it will be like for himself as he continues to move forward. It's even somewhat of a relief that one of the Bureau is here to lead it. It makes sense - these people are supposed to be here to help, right? Maybe Mr. Martin wasn't as creepy as he first seemed after all.

When the meeting begins to come to its close, and the others begin to bustle about for food, Jem takes his own look around. And after surveying the people who remain in the circle, he heads back to the food table and grabs a spare lemonade. Then he makes his way back to the circle, carefully moving around any others, and holds the lemonade out to you.

"Would you like a drink? I hope this flavour is alright. Is this seat taken?" he says politely with a smile. Hopefully his peace offering means he can squeeze in next to you and chat for a little while. The unfamiliar calls for new friends, right? At least, Jem's hopeful that it will be the case. It'd be nice to have a friend in this new environment .

[howkickassiam]

"Oh, hey, thanks," York says, accepting the cup, slightly surprised at the offering. Most people just go up and grab what they want from the snack table, but being delivered a lemonade's not bad. "You can sit down, sure."

once more with feeling;

[traceofeffort]

Another week, another support group meeting; Lisa's gotten used to these, although here lately she's had enough on her plate that she sorely wants to dump some of it on the collected people here. That might be too mean, though, and beyond that she doesn't want to tip her hand to anyone that didn't know that she went through the portal before it was strictly permitted. So instead she shares a brief portion of her memories of Roselia: a family restaurant, likely in Japan given the language she's come to recognize, where she and four other girls roughly her age are celebrating a successful live show - here, she shifts and the soft guitar bag on her back moves with her. They made plans to play something bigger, Future World FES, their vocalist had called it. Their ticket to the big time. And they'd have to dedicate themselves to the band, if they were to make it. "She asked me, 'are you prepared to fully devote yourself to Roselia?'" Lisa continues. "And I told her I was. I know, in my heart, I was, from then on. And I still am, even now. It's sentimental, but... Roselia lives on through me, and I want to prove that Yukina chose right. It's silly, but it makes me happy. That's all." A brief laugh. "Oh, and speaking of, I'm playing two blocks south of here tomorrow night! Five dollar cover, one drink minimum, tips appreciated ♪"

Not that she'd shared anything groundbreaking, but it still make her feel warm to remember. She took a long pull from her Styrofoam take-out glass of sweet tea and sat through the rest, watching. There did seem to be at least one new face, so she'd made a mental note to grab him at some point before everyone gave up on the meeting, but eventually he came to her. She waves off the drink with a smile. "I haven' trusted their lemonade since the first time I came to one of these. I don't know how you screw up the powder'd stuff, but they manage it. Thanks, though." There's a brief, tiny surprised look on her face; her (presently faint) Southern accent took her by surprise, but perhaps it's the story she shared earlier. "You're welcome t' join me though - that's what these are for, right?" She shifts just a tiny bit to let him in without crowding him. "I don't recognize you, and I try to come to more than a few of these - just joined the club, as it were?"