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[ It's taken him some time to finally make up his mind and make this post. In fact, he lets it sit, all written up and ready to go, for a good while before deciding to go ahead with it. It's a silly thing, really; after Loki's taught him how to make an anonymous post, he knows no one will have any way of knowing it's him, so while he's admitting to something to the population of the Quarantine at large, no one will associate it with him, not unless he identifies himself.
He also knows he won't know the identity of anyone replying to the post, which at the moment is sort of the point. Anonymity is pretty useful in this situation. Eventually, depending on the answers he gets, he may just come to find the identity of some of these people, but for now, it offers some detachment, some distance. ]
I've been here for some weeks now, and I've come to realize that a few of us have been brought here because there was nothing else left for us. In other words, we are dead. Or we were, before we were brought back to life here. I know for a fact that I haven't been the only one to wake up at the hospital, surrounded by doctors and machinery, and it's admittedly something I'm still struggling with.
I'm not sure what to make of it. It fits what I've been told about how the portal is supposed to work. I felt out of place in the sense that I felt as if I'd reached the end of the line, that I'd have nothing else ahead of me. I'm yet to decide if this place is a new home for me, or if I'm living on borrowed time, but I won't lie: I'm glad to be alive and breathing.
It's difficult, though, not having someone to talk to about it. Granted, I'm not even sure I'd want to, but I'd like to have that option. Perhaps I'm not the only one who feels that way. Maybe a number of us are struggling in our minds with our situation, and we don't know if we can reach out, or to whom. So I've been wondering if, of those people in a similar situation to my own, anyone would be interested in some kind of get-together. A meeting to talk about our experiences— or even if you don't want to talk and would rather just listen to other people's stories, that's fine too.
I'm reluctant to share a lot about my own, so I admit I'm not all that sure about this. I guess I'm hoping for braver people than I to give me the push I likely need.
[ There, it's out of his system. It may amount to nothing but at least he's put it out there. ]
He also knows he won't know the identity of anyone replying to the post, which at the moment is sort of the point. Anonymity is pretty useful in this situation. Eventually, depending on the answers he gets, he may just come to find the identity of some of these people, but for now, it offers some detachment, some distance. ]
I've been here for some weeks now, and I've come to realize that a few of us have been brought here because there was nothing else left for us. In other words, we are dead. Or we were, before we were brought back to life here. I know for a fact that I haven't been the only one to wake up at the hospital, surrounded by doctors and machinery, and it's admittedly something I'm still struggling with.
I'm not sure what to make of it. It fits what I've been told about how the portal is supposed to work. I felt out of place in the sense that I felt as if I'd reached the end of the line, that I'd have nothing else ahead of me. I'm yet to decide if this place is a new home for me, or if I'm living on borrowed time, but I won't lie: I'm glad to be alive and breathing.
It's difficult, though, not having someone to talk to about it. Granted, I'm not even sure I'd want to, but I'd like to have that option. Perhaps I'm not the only one who feels that way. Maybe a number of us are struggling in our minds with our situation, and we don't know if we can reach out, or to whom. So I've been wondering if, of those people in a similar situation to my own, anyone would be interested in some kind of get-together. A meeting to talk about our experiences— or even if you don't want to talk and would rather just listen to other people's stories, that's fine too.
I'm reluctant to share a lot about my own, so I admit I'm not all that sure about this. I guess I'm hoping for braver people than I to give me the push I likely need.
[ There, it's out of his system. It may amount to nothing but at least he's put it out there. ]
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[ maybe it's so they won't feel alone or anything, but jyn knows that cassian specifically is in the same boat and they don't talk about any of this shit at all because nah. ]
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[ like, it doesn't feel bad to know it's not just her and cassian, but at the same time she doesn't want anyone to start asking her how she died. ]
Your idea sounds like the folks that would get together at home and drink, comparing their scars from the war.
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That so? Some people did that back in my world, too. I wasn't thinking of drinks or anything but I guess if people preferred it that way, I wouldn't oppose.
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[ see? she's being helpful now! ]
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[ But drinks, yes, that is a good idea. ]
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[ Does he hand them a tissue? Pat them on the back and go 'there, there'?? Hell if he knows. ]
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[ that's what maia would do ]
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[ He can't speak from personal experience, as he's never been very prone to crying. ]
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[ it sure as crap isn't for jyn. ]
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[ sounds fake but okay. maybe he just means drunk crying as a coping mechanism though ]
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Thinking back, I don't believe it ever did. It only offered some momentary relief, at most. Maybe it's different for other people.
Has it helped you?
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[ liar. ]
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[ Yeah he's not going to believe that. ]
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[ which is not an answer. ]
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But older children do sometimes, too. When you want something but your parents won't let you have it. Or when you fall and get hurt. When you're scared or sad.
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[ i'm sorry she is garbage, steve. :( ]