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[guppy_sandhu]

It's been a busy month. Maybe there's a couple people who need a chat tonight?

Fortunately, there's a circle of chairs, with drink and cake.

Life Support
Open To All


[ooc: Open until the next one in approx one month. All tags will be picked up by at least one of the LS team. Threadhopping encouraged]

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[guppy_sandhu]

Guppy is busy setting up, hampered slightly by a rather small white puppy which is sitting under his chair.

[patterns_bloom]

Alana's there in her usual chair, waiting to see if anyone needs to talk. She has two slices of cake in front of her, only one of which she's nibbling on.

[notapilot]

If you bake it, they will come. At least that's always been Mamma Wilson's motto.

Sam is enjoying a slice of the cake and maybe seeing if anyone needs to chat, for whatever reason. He's also got some knitting beside him, but cake first.

[herr_bookman]

"Hi, Sam," Autor says, unclenching his fists. He's still incredibly angry, but he's trying to make an effort not to take it out on other people. "How are you?"

[notapilot]

Sam takes in Autor's body language out of habit, but takes a little longer to recognize the face.

"Oh Autor wasn't? I'm well enough. Traveling a lot back home, so it's nice to have a place ot relax in. You doing okay?" There's a definite undertone to his voice, concern and inquiry, as well as an invitation if Autor wants it.

[herr_bookman]

"Traveling," Autor says, inclining his head. "That can be fun. I'm... I'm angry." He takes a seat at Sam's table, resting his hands palms down on the wood. "This place is too clean. Too quiet. I thought everything would be better once I reached the bar again, but it's not."

[notapilot]

"Sounds like you've been through something," Sam replies with concern but not a hint of pity. A neat trick, but he knows those who've been through trauma don't always appreciate pity. "I know we haven't talked much before, but I'd be happy to listen if you'd like."

"I think I know that anger, if it helps. You go out in the world, find there's horrible things in it, and then come back to places like this and it just doesn't seem fair, right?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor runs a hand through his fuzzy hair. "I went to war," he says tightly. "And that's all I want to say about that."

He scraps his nails across the table. "Fair is exactly it. And everyone here seems to be taking it for granted, you know? I know this is supposed to be a sanctuary--and sanctuaries are usually good, right?--but it just doesn't seem fair that it's so peaceful here."

[notapilot]

"I was afraid that was it," Sam says with a sigh. "And you're right, it's not fair. But it is what it is."

"Have you had a chance to talk with anyone about your experiences? I respect your desire not to say anything on the matter, but doing that runs the risk of keeping those experiences fresh in your mind. Our hearts and minds like to process potent things. Keeping them bottled up only makes it worse in my experience."

[is_the_motion]

It's been a while since Bonnie has seen Autor pull that face. He'd been a lot more chilled before he left.

"Hey." she says softly, when he's free. "What's up honey?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor glances up at her, startled out of his pissed off reverie. "Oh, Bonnie. Hello," he says tightly. "I'm... I'm so angry. This place is too clean, and too quiet. I thought it'd be better once I came back, but it's awful."

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie listens, and nods.

"Give it time." she says. "I felt awful when Ernest left home and I was home alone fer the first time in my life. I knew it was a good thing, that I needed to be happy and proud. I knew it was right, but it took time to get used to the silence."

[herr_bookman]

Autor offers her a thoughtful nod. "It just doesn't seem right that this place is so peaceful," he says, clenching and unclenching his fists to get the blood flowing again. "And everyone here seems to be taking it for granted."

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie considers this.

"We do." she agrees. "But wouldn't be much good an escape if it weren't. What about folks like Rae, if she came in from all that awful business and here was just as bad?"

[soldier_blade]

Sonya's not entirely sure if she wants cake or not, but there's Sam. She kinda needs to talk with him. The knitting gets a glance though, and she wonders if there's for therapy or a hobby.

"Hey." She took a seet. "What're you knitting?"

[a_rare_benedictine]

Cadfael smiles over at her as she approaches.

Millitime power!

[soldier_blade]

She hadn't seen Cadfael since her god daughter's baptism, so she can't pretend she's not happy to see him now. For all her talk with Sam, Cadfael was surrogate family at this point. "Cadfael," She gave him a small salute. "How goes?"

Re: Millitime power!

[a_rare_benedictine]

"Quite well, daughter", he says sincerely. "And yourself?"

Re: Millitime power!

[soldier_blade]

She's certainly looking a lot better (not counting the ever present dark circles under her eyes), but that could easily be accounted for the time she was away. "Career wise, can't complain. Finally given a clean bill of health, so it's back to field work, and been promoted to captain."

Granted, she was still on paper work dealing with recruits, but atleast she wasn't restricted anymore. "Was also able to say 'I told you so' to the colonel and not end up in the Brigg."

Cross that line off her bucket list.

Re: Millitime power!

[a_rare_benedictine]

He laughs at that.

"He had to accept it was true and justified?"

[notapilot]

"Sonya," Sam replies with a cheerful smile before turning to her question. "A sock. Got a guy who lost a leg in Iraq and hates buying pairs of socks cause one always goes to waste. I made him one and now it's all he ever asks for."

"Let that be a warning, if you knit or plan to learn, never make something you don't mind making again and again."

"How you holding up?"

[OOC: Not quite here but I wanted to play this forward.]

[soldier_blade]

"I've a hard enough time knitting hats." She'd usually stick with scarves, but the hats were getting better.

"Been better." She admitted. "There was a memorial service some time ago. Any idea how hard it is to practice breathing exercises when breathing itself hurts?" She motioned to the spare set of needles. "You mind?" It was easier to talk if she was doing something with her hands.

[notapilot]

"I can image," Sam confirms with a nod towards the needles. "Help yourself. I knew one guy who would count on his fingers, tap each one in a row as he did so. Seemed to work better than breathing for him."

[soldier_blade]

She took the pair, along with a ball of green yarn. By now, starting a row was almost second nature. She kept an eye on him, considering the suggestion. "Could work..or counting something..like prayer beads." She'd seen a few sets in dollar stores.

[notapilot]

"Exactly. Even beads on a bracelet could work, if counting works for you."