tramitem_log | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Totally both, but who's he to judge? Here he was at the crazy meeting for memory nuts who have things turn into sherbet too. "Super. That's... gonna be real awkward if it's still happening when practices start for real."

"Ugh, tell me about it," she groaned. "Different kind of practice, mind you, but I can't play the strings of lemon sherbet. Four or six of them." Lisa took a deep breath; nothing for it now, really. It'll turn back into tea eventually. "If the ball turning into sugar is a problem, you're probably playing a team sport, something where you're going to actually touch the ball... baseball or football, probably?"

"Football." Jecht cracked a grin that was much more like the easygoing, confident guy who hadn't made an appearance in this meeting yet. But it faded quickly enough. "So what happens... if weird crap like this goes on right where everyone can see?"

"I may have to take more of an interest, then!" She's seen enough to get the basics, but, well. There's a lot more than basics there. For now, though, Lisa was just glad Jecht was perking up a little. "Well, if it's something small like practice, you'll have to think fast, but it should be fine. Run the sherbet." She grimaced. "If it's something big, like a game... the broadcast delay will cover the television audience, and everyone in the stadium will forget that play ever happened, except you."

Jecht leaned his head back with a groan. "Sorry I asked!" That was a mind-melter for sure. "Think I liked it better when I was sure I was nuts."

"It'll only get crazier from here. But hey, don't think about it too hard," Lisa assured him. "Deal with this - all this - as much or as little as you want to, okay? Sure, it's gonna suck if you have to pass the sherbet. Yeah, the whole memory thing's weird sometimes, and they're not all winners. I get it, sometimes you get things on your bedside table in the morning that you have no idea what you'll do with. But you know what? It's fine. Everything is fine. It'll all be okay, one way or another." Definitely. Without fail. Nod, nod, everything is awesome.

Jecht started to laugh. First just a small chuckle, but it grew till he leaned his head back, one hand in his hair. After a minute or so, he got himself under control. Still grinning though.

"I miss bein' your age. Makin' things go right takes a hell of a lot of hard work, though. Slip up and you got a huge crawl back. I don't mind hard work -- don't tell anyone that -- but knowing what to work on sure helps."

Lisa knew well she was too much of an optimist on this stuff, so she didn't really take offense; it was a loud reaction, but not an unfair one. "What? The famous football player isn't afraid to put in the hours to make things go well?" She chuckled herself, before she shook her head. "Nah, I never said it'd be easy. But the other option sucks. I'm gonna give this my best, or I'm gonna go down in a blaze of glory trying. I owe both of me that much."

"Coming off like I'm just plain natural talent is part of the image! People like a prodigy better than a hard worker." Music was the same, wasn't it? No thought of lessons or practice or anything. The audience just wanted to believe in the gift!

"Ugh, don't I know it," Lisa almost whined. "The other me had to learn from scratch twice to keep up with her best friend and prodigy bandmates, and now I'm here because I wasn't enough of a prodigy to hack it when I was younger." She let out a deep sigh, before smiling back at him. "But hey, yeah, fake it 'til you make it, right? I just have to be good enough to make them not look up the past. And you're clearly good enough to sell it yourself, too. They don't sign athletes that are just okay."

Hard to imagine, but everyone could have a rough time of it. "So you remember that much of ... your, uh, other self?" Still not sure how to put it. Still not sure it all made any sense.

"I know it's not everything. There are too many holes, still. But I know a fair bit, I think," she said after a moment. "I'm not sure I approve of all of her decisions, but I understand why she made them. I'm not sure I would have done any better in her shoes."

A beat; she grinned even as she let herself take a bit of a try tone. "I would know, I have at least one pair of her shoes."

"Great. Guess I'm gonna wake up to a big honkin' sword in my closet sometime soon." That or arm armor, but that'd be even WEIRDER.

"You wouldn't be the first." Elliott probably still needs to spend more time working out with that thing... Come to think, she could use another workout session herself. "And hey, I've got an instrument and two costumes now. So yeah, I know how it goes."

If nothing else, this conversation was helping him become more resigned to it all, and that was at least a form of progress.

"Kinda weird that some of us are pop idols and some of us are apparently wandering swordsmen or whatever."

"It takes all kinds, right? Some world, somewhere, needed a swordsman. And another world, somewhere else, needed a bassist." Lisa paused, smiling softly, before she shrugged. "The big question is why this world needs both the swordsman and the bassist."

Jecht chuckled without much humor, hand still working at the muscles of his neck like he was trying to squeeze a steel beam. "Yeah. Exactly. Or if it ain't that, what the hell do we all have in common?"

'Cuz let's face it, he and Lisa here probably didn't have one single commonality between 'em! How different could you get?

Lisa shook her head. "Possibly nothing? Except that we're Different, now. But maybe that's enough, yeah? We can look out for each other until someone - maybe the Bureau, maybe someone else - decides to tell us what the big deal is."

"Yeah, not really liking the idea they know way more than they're telling us." Hell, just the thought had him tightening his fists -- but let's keep that on the down low, getting mad like that wasn't gonna endear him to anyone.

"I'm not happy about that either," Lisa admitted, frowning slightly. "But I don't think pressing them is going to change anything, so... I'm dealing for now. Like I said, we can look out for each other, and maybe compare notes. Elliott's a hell of a lot better at that kind of stuff than I am, though, I'm just the emotional support."

"Yeah, they're kinda holding the cards." If nothing else, they had him dancing to their tune at the moment. After all, here he was, right? Dealing with this whole mess instead of laughing at the crazies and getting on with life. "I ain't any of that, so you've got more going for you in this mess than me."

"Nah, see, you're the face," Lisa insisted, smile almost returning. "If we need someone to take us seriously, hey, we've got Jecht! You know him! You love him! Now seriously, listen to us or he's gonna tackle you."

"Sounds more like good cop, bad cop. You sweet-talk 'em and then I show up bein' all--" He punched his palm demonstratively.

"No, no, that's two steps later," Lisa replied airily, smiling properly now. "Gosh, it's all in the manual! Punching people comes after warning them that you can't be held responsible for what's about to happen."

Jecht shook his head, now grinning too. "Naw, you got it all wrong. If you punch someone and THEN tell them that, they have to sit there and wonder what exactly is worse than the punch that you gotta warn 'em about it!"