nick andros (
hearnospeakno) wrote in
all_inclusive2013-08-16 05:58 pm
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support group one: no one left behind
Where: Attic Observatory
What: Community Support Group
As Nick promised on his open advertisements, there are chairs and coffee in the Attic Observatory. There's even a table laden with what food products Nick and co could round up.
The process of setting up for a group meeting felt enough like Boulder that Nick took a short break to lean, palms first, against a wall. It was a short, easily displaced moment, and he has no intention of lingering on it.
This is about everyone, one way or another. For all the people stuck here, and everyone new, and all those in-between. Nick left the purpose of the group intentionally vague. In the future, he assumes it'll have to be narrowed down and split up for the sake of different needs, but for this first coming together of the displaced in any non-official capacity he wants it to be open for everyone. It wouldn't be right, otherwise.
So all newcomers will find Nick by the attic observatory door, nursing a cup of black coffee next to a clearly printed sign:
Hi, I'm Nick. Welcome to the first Nexus Hotel Support Group. Whatever your problem, we'll listen. Help yourself to coffee and food.
Underneath the words, Nick has drawn and crossed out a mouth and ear, leaving an arrow pointed at himself. His pad of paper and pen are obvious on his lap.
no subject
"This place is the first I've come to being in anything like an actual comfort zone in close to a year," he admitted, and canted his head one way and then the other like he was rolling something around inside, considering it.
"How about this," he began again. "You tell me a little and I'll tell you a little, and nobody worries about believability or comfort zones."
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"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, after a moment. "So...I was travelling with this guy. And he said, where do you want to go, one trip, anywhere? And we went and saw Shakespeare. At the Globe."
After a second more, she looked up at Larry, eyes narrowing slightly in concern, and said, "The Shakespeare, himself. Tudor England."
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"Must be nice, time traveling," he said, and grew briefly somber as he considered whether he'd go back now, given the choice.
"Guess it's my turn," he quickly added before Martha could reply, and then scratched at the back of his neck, squinting into the middle distance as he rifled through his mental catalog of impossible things.
"Might as well start with the big one," he settled on, focusing on Martha again. "Where Nick and I come from, nearly everybody's dead. Superflu. Only a handful of people were immune."
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She paused, tensing a little bit, then swallowed firmly and said, "It's not always as fun as it sounds. Sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth--but that's weeks worth of stories, so." Gesturing a little, she waited for Larry to elaborate, and when he did, it was enough to make even Martha's somewhat-seasoned eyes go a bit wider.
"Oh," she said. "Things must have..." And she searched for a phrase that would adequately cover it, cover something beyond even the sickly feeling of what had happened with the Toclafane, with Japan even. Worse than decimation. "Gone ugly."
It explained a few things, though, of Nick and Larry.
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"It wasn't all bad, though," he added, expression softening, if a little sad. "We had a pretty big group of good people all settled together, starting over. That's how Nick and I met."
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Actually, most beings didn't, even if they pretended otherwise. But she supposed you could trust yourself, and you couldn't always trust other people, even under fire. It was something she'd learned to adapt for, crosses and double crosses.
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"You know, your turn was a lot more fun than mine," he added after a moment, and smiled back at Martha. "Who came up with this taking turns thing? Oh right, that was me." His smile quirked, self-deprecating but amused, and he leaned back in his chair.
"So now that I've been a sufficient downer, tell me something good," he said.
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She put on a slightly hopeful half-smile and cleared her throat. "So, taking a good turn. Uh, well. I...I might have inspired a Shakespearian sonnet. Or two. He was taken with me, a little. Also with Harry Potter."
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"Harry Potter is a friend of yours?"
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She still wasn't sure how the hell it wasn't a paradox.