March Support Group Open Log

[tramitem]

Who: OPEN (Including to all the new characters who app throughout the month)
What: Bureau Run, Non-Mandatory Support Group
When: March 1st - March 31st. There are meetings at various times/days 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

Bitterblue - OTA

[ashenscipher]

Though Bitterblue looked composed as she sat in her chair, she was a bundle of nerves on the inside. Nothing about the setting put her at ease, the bland cinder block walls and fluorescent lighting made the spots in her skull behind her eyes hurt.

She was here by choice, but at the same time, not really. She hadn't chosen to receive... a memory? Of another life?

Oh, her family would tell her she was going mad if she told them!

That's why she was here, to find out more. Because she chose, despite how unbelievable it seemed, to view this logically. This was a puzzle she needed to solve, for her own wellbeing.

When someone walks by, a bit closer due to the traffic, she pulls her legs back and tucks her feet under the chair. "Pardon me," she says with a slight French accent and a small apologetic smile.

[temptationaccomplished]

"Oh, no, pardon me, Miss." He awkwardly shuffles a bit and turns so that he can take a seat next to her without bumping into other traffic. He mostly manages, giving an awkward smile at the other people passing by.

Aziraphale sorts out his plate on his lap and looks at her curiously. "You didn't-- This is rude to ask and you're welcome to not answer it, but I'm just, well-- You didn't fly all the way from France for this meeting, did you? The Bureau didn't mention that this phenomenon was spreading internationally, but then they don't tell us much."

[ashenscipher]

When Aziraphale started speaking, when he asked that question, Bitterblue's first thought was the same - did this man fly all the way from the British Isles to take part in this meeting. But he gave more context which dispelled her own question.

"Ah, no," she said. "I've been living here a few months. And you?"

hits this up way later than intended

[missingache]

The apology for being in the way, even if this young woman hadn't been, slows Roxas to a stop. This was someone who wasn't at the last meeting. He tilts his head as he takes a good look at this newcomer.

"Did you get a memory recently?"

It's totally still welcome!

[ashenscipher]

Bitterblue perked up. She wanted so much to talk about what happened to her, but she didn't want to impose. She understood the intent behind a support group, but it was still hard participating when it was all so new.

"Yes, I did. I was a child, it was winter, and I was hiding from someone... Did you get a memory recently?"

Jack Harkness l OTA

[captainspain]

Jack entered the room nervously which was both a new and old feeling for him. He wasn't the type to command a room when he didn't have to. Acting was a mask that made him feel more confident then he really was. And now his well ordered life had apparently been turned completely upside down because he'd had a memory of kissing two people in space or something like it and maybe freaked out a little.

He wasn't very sure on that point yet....the whole thing he'd been told was crazy. He knew his life, knew his family. Hell he'd called his sister Rose last night before going on stage like he always did for luck and now......now he was had the memory of a different woman named Rose and he was completely confused.

He eyed the table of food then made a face....he didn't really want to think about food right now since he was squeezing this group thing in between a cast interview on the Today Show for his latest musical and actually rehearsing and performing said show.

"This is nuts," he muttered to himself forgetting there might be other people in the room. "I shouldn't be here I should be working." Jack rarely gives into what he calls "star" moments, but he indulges in one now just because he's feeling cranky and needs an outlet.

[traceofeffort]

She'd talked last month about wanting to come back to these, that maybe it would be important to attend the Bureau's meetings even if they were going to do something else - or even if they didn't think for a moment the Bureau wasn't listening - but Lisa had still been surprised to find her feet bringing her here. She'd at least planned ahead this time, bringing her own drink in a Chick-fil-a cup, but here she was all the same.

Surveying the room after some time, she heard the muttering and turned to see where it'd come from. This guy... looked kinda familiar... well, that doesn't really matter here. Whoever you were, you were more than that now. She'd managed to convince herself of that, at least, and that brought her to step closer with a smile and a small wave. "Work's important, but knowing what's going on is kinda important too, yeah?" she said, by way of both greeting and mild challenge. "Welcome, welcome. Willing to give us a few minutes? I can try and give you the short version."

[captainspain]

Jack flashes her a quick smile. "I understand the concept of what we are," he says, "but the idea that I lived another life...one where I might have been in love with two people at the same time is a little weird for me. It felt so....normal. Like kissing them was something I did every day. Not only that but....one of them seems to have the same name as my sister.....that's also very weird." Jack sighed and shook his head. "I just...I thought I knew who I was and now I don't. Do all the people like us feel like this?"

[temptationaccomplished]

[[ooc: funny enough, they both have relatives named Rose, after characters from their canon.]]

Aziraphale felt a little bit silly. Surely it couldn't be... Then again, their group counted teenagers and rocket scientists among their members--and actor wasn't out of the question. Mr. Harkness wasn't exactly a huge star, all things considered, but he was a familiar face and Aziraphale had seen a fair few of his plays. So maybe he felt a little star struck and added unnecessary extra sugar to his coffee just to have a reason to scoot down the table toward him.

Oh, my, but if he isn't a little taller than Aziraphale expected. What a dashing young man.

"Shouldn't we all." He nervously looked down at his coffee, sipped it, and grimaced at how sweet it had ended up. Well, enough of that. And now he was left holding a coffee he wasn't going to drink. "I'm sorry," he finally said, unable to contain the curiosity any longer, "this is awfully presumptuous, and terribly rude of me, but are you Jack Harkness?"

[captainspain]

"Porter," Jack corrects. He changed his name years ago when he was playing in shows deemed a bit less classy then the ones he's in now. It kept people from bugging his family too much. It felt a little weird now, but he knows those fans who know his real name though so he doesn't really draw attention to it when they call him by his birth name. "but to answer your question yes its me." He smiles at the man and holds out his hand. "Always pleased to meet a fan. So you are one of these Different too then?"

Re: Jack Harkness l OTA

[darkforcerising]

"It really is, isn't it," Anakin said from beside Jack. He'd stepped up just as the man was muttering to himself.

"First time?"

Bucky Barnes / OTA

[thehellisbucky]

It was the spread of cheap grocery store bakery items that calmed him first. The big sugary muffins, the stale, crumbly croissants -- Bucky had eaten more than his share over the last year of therapy. Starting at the VA, starting with group therapy with a bunch of other punch drunk enlisted that just were trying to find goddamn UP in a world that had turned upside down. Bucky beelined for it, knowing the sugar hit would distract him, and maybe he got a little carried away, what with the muffin, the coupla donuts, and the cup of coffee in the thin paper mug that was burning his hand. He was able to juggle it all by finally shoving a donut in his mouth, took the hot coffee in the other hand, and sat. The chair did that annoying scrap across the floor, an almost comforting sound.

That's what was needed right now, right? Comfort? A sound that everybody could hear, not just him in his mind. But God, it'd been so real, and him shouting "Not without you!" A physical, real sound in response to something in his head. He finally freed the donut from his mouth, after taking a huge bite, and echo of that lost and then regained memory nearly hidden under the rush of sugar and carbs.... And Bucky shied away (again) from wondering who YOU was.

A couple of bites in and he was able to look around, take stock of the other poor unfortunate souls who were apparently in the same batshit bucket he was. Interesting mix. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the cast of characters spread in front of him, wondering who to approach first.

[darkforcerising]

Every time Anakin came to one of these meetings, things just kept getting weirder.

He scanned the crowd, assessing who he should approach first about his half-baked idea of forming their own group outside the Bureau's control, when he spotted Bucky. He knew the guy, but here, on earth, not in that oft repeating memory pounding a tattoo in his temporal lobe.

Though he couldn't be too sure Bucky might not now show up in his memories. If Obi-Wan could, so could potentially anyone else.

He skipped the refreshments and headed right to the spot next to Bucky. He dropped his backpack at his feet and then slouched into the chair.

"Not are usually support group for our prosthetics," he said. "The Bureau go you, too, huh?"

[neverjedi]

Ben hated these damn meetings and was an introvert on top of it -

but he wasn't unfriendly, and there was a good reason to be here, even if the primary reason was just trying to get enough contact information for them to be able to talk without being 'overseen' by the government.

"Hey, you look a little lost," he said, with a slight smile, "You new?"

Clarence - OTA [starting 3/11 and onward]

[hardtoignore]

After hearing the support groups weren't mandatory Clarence pretty much dropped them like a lead balloon. He had better things to do with his spare time (like not do homework, and go around feeding community cats). But that all changed when he woke up on the eleventh of March with a cat on the brain. Not just any cat. The cat. His cat. Teekl. He would have brushed the dreams aside as just dreams had they not been so long and vivid, or if he had woken up and felt they were dreams but that wasn't the case. They felt real, just like the memory he had before and that was, well, he wouldn't say it was comforting but knowing he had a close confidant like that in a past life was rewarding in itself.

Where the meetings had seemed unnecessary before, suddenly Clarence thought maybe he would want to share his thoughts if it meant keeping the idea of Teekl alive more in his brain. If she was real then he wanted to remember her.

Sometimes he pops into the meetings just to sit back and listen, but usually he has a sketch pad with him. If someone were to get a glimpse, they would see he was working on two types of drawings. One is that of a cat, the same cat, that he draws in many different poses and states of relaxation. The other thing he seems intent on sketching are hands. Sometimes he even stretches out his own hand and poses it before going back to drawing.

If someone wanted to speak with him, they probably would need to approach him themselves.

[darkforcerising]

Anakin - same coat, same backpack as last time - dropped into the seat next to Clarence. He had a couple cookies held in a napkin in his right hand. He swung the arm around to offer Clarence first pick.

"You came back."

ayato kirishima | ota

[rabbitfeather]

He bums a cigarette a few blocks away and spends the rest of the walk over drawing lungful after lungful of acrid smoke. Every part of Ayato wants to run and skip out on something stupid like this, but it seems as though his body won't listen. Like some other part of him knows better, knows that he won't get answers for himself elsewhere as easily as he'd bummed the Newport.

Ducking in late to the meeting and smelling like smoke, Ayato tries to blend into the small smattering of people ... After the talks, little groups break up and mingle around each other, nervous smiles and small-talk.

Caught in between tuning into a nearby conversation and eyeing over the food and drink ... He's sticking out like a sore thumb, isn't he?

[darkenedmoon]

"Fancy meeting you here." The last thing she'd expected was a familiar face--even if it was the face of the young man who'd bummed a smoke off of her on her way here.

Not that she could judge him for it. She'd bought the pack herself on the way over. Yotsuyu regretted it, perhaps, but not much.

But it was any port in a storm, in truth, and he looked as uncomfortable as she felt...

[hardtoignore]

Clarence isn't often the one to go seeking others out during these things, but he can't help but want to give other teens a sympathetic ear. It was hard enough dealing with school most of the time, but then getting involved in this bullspit was enough to wreck anyone's already messed up life.

He approached Ayato casually, hands in the pocket of his hoodie and cat-eared hood drawn up over his head. He opened his mouth to talk, inhaled a whiff of smoke, and almost immediately regretted his decision to attempt friendliness. Unable to keep the sour look off his face, he slumped down in a chair nearby and tried not to breathe in any more while still attempting to be open.

"... The situation sucks, huh?"

[darkforcerising]

"The food is kinda trash, but, you know, the kind you want to eat," Anakin said, stepping up next to Ayato.

"But unless you like crappy coffee, I'd avoid that."

Yotsuyu Naeuri | OTA

[darkenedmoon]

First: the guilt. She'd lied. That normally would not matter. Most people she'd met did not deserve her respect, much less the truth.

Most people she'd met were not her son.

It had been a joyous reunion when she'd come home from the opposite coast; business ventures often did take time and Yotsuyu was often here or there. That the trip had been extended hadn't bothered her--until she'd disembarked at La Guardia and--the rest didn't bear thinking about.

Except she couldn't stop thinking about it. Speak of it, however...

She'd had a cigarette before she came in--all thoughts and attempts at quitting had ceased after the vision. Another apology she owed Elliott. Meanwhile, she scowled at the coffee carafe as if it had offended her personally...

[bearshermark]

He hadn't told her yet. Couldn't. She'd only just gotten back, and he'd missed her so much..

But he would. He would. Just.. maybe step in and see if anyone had any ideas of how to go about it first. She was held up at a meeting. It would be fine.

Only, that was his mom standing just there. Here, at this exact time. Around some of the other Different he knew.

Elliott's brain short-circuited, voice pitching a little louder than he'd intended.

"Mom!?"

[traceofeffort]

The smell of cigarette smoke doesn't bother her. Not anymore. Not when she'd spent so long in bars and dives. But in here, at a Bureau support group, that scent was somewhat new, and it caught her attention. The woman it came from was... somewhat different from the kinds of people she'd been talking to so far at these things, but clearly appearances were deceiving. Were going to be deceiving, going forward.

Lisa glanced at the woman, and shook her head slightly with a small smile. "I don't know that any of us have had visions of coffee harming someone," she opened lightly. "If you're the first, I think we should know, yeah?" She hadn't changed her routine much in the last week or so; still standing around with a foam cup of sweet tea from anywhere not here, still working to look casual. She didn't know if the others had made any progress setting up something else, so for now, she'd have to make do with another one of these.

Anthony J. Crowley | OTA

[serpentinthegarden]

He didn't exactly saunter into the room, he more or less crept in quietly and hung back near the wall for most of the meeting. These people were meant to be like him, 'Different' in some way but... he didn't buy it. Even if those running the meeting were interesting and had said one or two things that resonated it was simply too strange to be true.

If his heat stroke induced dream were real and not only a remembered story then he would be perhaps... the most evil and despised creature in all of human history. And that couldn't be true! He might have gotten into a spot of trouble or two in the past but he was doing fine now. He certainly wasn't that.

About halfway through Anthony thought about leaving, surely he could just slip out the backdoor without being missed, but a quick glance at his watch stayed him. His ride wouldn't have arrived yet. Damn. That meant he was trapped for another hour at least. And worse, it was beginning to feel stuffy. The problem with large painted cider-block rooms was that they could become very suffocating especially if there were a great many people enclosed inside them. Anthony's throat began to dry prompting him to wander closer to the center of the room where the buffet table was laid out for them.

There were the usual suspects: lemonade, coffee... the hot chocolate actually looked good but he grumbled a bit to himself as he reached for a mug.

"What no punch? Thought generic meetings like this always had a punch bowl..."

How it happened was a mystery even to him. Anthony grabbed the mug of hot chocolate and then either because it was warmer than he thought it would be or due to the mug being slippery from the steam it tumbled out of his hand and onto the table, which in helpful folding table style promptly collapsed. The crash of food and glassware was cacophonous, loudly cutting through any conversation or grand speech that was being made, and centering all eyes on the one person who had been attempting not to be noticed.

"Shit!"

Anthony paled like a deer caught in the headlights and gestured to the downed table weakly.

"That was not my fault... I swear. The leg just... just shot right out from under."

[temptationaccomplished]

At the crash, he looked up, biting back a curse of his own at the shock, and gasped at the mess of food and drink and dishware scattered now across the floor. Goodness, what a waste! He hoped everyone was all right.

Reluctantly, he began to get up to help rescue the poor bloke from the mess of his own making, when the tail-end of man's excuses drew his attention properly.

Strikingly tall with a rooster shock of red hair, sharp cheekbones, that bold nose. An unmistakable face. Until now, he had been happily deluding himself. It had been easier on his sanity to believe that the odd man must have been a figment of his imagination. He had never actually expected to meet him.

He fluttered uneasily at his seat, wringing his hands, and glanced nervously at the Bureau members; he strongly considered leaving before the man could potentially recognize HIM. Had they experienced the same dream? They certainly did not have to have meet in this lifetime, let alone conspire to potentially murder a child.

But. He looked back to the man and felt an awkward pang of pity. Certainly he didn't look like a murderer (at least not of anything more than a table of pastries). He seemed nice enough.

Aziraphale wasn't a murderer; he shouldn't assume this man could be too, regardless of what some dream tried to tell him. They were capable of making their own choices, and chances were, this fellow was a perfectly reasonable human being living a perfectly reasonable life. He was likely not the kind of man who, independent of those dreams, would ever dream of hurting anyone, least of all a child. And, besides, perhaps he had dreamed something different. Maybe they had pieces of the same puzzle (for whatever it was worth). Maybe they could just talk.

So Aziraphale screwed his courage to the sticking place, determined to not prejudge based on weird dreams, and wound his way through the crowd and chairs to slide up beside the other man.

"Well," he gently teased with an anxious little giggle, aiming for levity, "as good first impressions go, I have to say that went down like a lead balloon. But was certainly memorable."