get over it {Open, INACTIVE}

[renthead]

Mark Cohen was at life support. No, he did not have a disease that was destroying him from the inside out. He had not been diagnosed with cancer, HIV, or anything else. He was as healthy as any slightly malnourished twenty-four year old. But his friends were not so very healthy. And he had started to go a while back, for moral support. Moral support had turned into a chance to get footage for whatever film he was working on at the time. He had probably started and scratched about five films since finishing Today 4 U. He just didn't know what the theme of his next piece of work should be. So he had started several things just messing around.

Mark had been talked to about what to do with his film several times. Alexi Darling offered to put it in the show, but Mark had shot her down. Yes, many thousands of people would have seen it... but that wasn't the point. He had already sold out once in his lifetime, and he hadn't even reached middle age yet. The support group was over, and everyone was standing around talking. Mark slowly packed his camera away, and looked at the door. He didn't know whether he should leave, or stay to talk with the people he had come to consider friends. They let him film them when they were discussing their darkest thoughts... he expected the friendship was mutual. But he didn't know if he should push it by intruding on their social time. He felt like making a run for it would be the most obvious thing to do. He could always say something like 'I need to feed the cat.' oh wait... that wouldn't work. He and Roger didn't have a cat. Not that Roger really lived at the loft anymore...

Mark took his time packing his things into his messenger bag. Maybe someone would approach him. He wished, for probably the fifth time that day, that Roger had attended the meeting that day. But he hadn't, and now Mark was stuck wondering if he was a social outcast that was doomed forever to find it awkward around people he'd never lived with before. Maybe he should just invite everyone he ever felt he should become friends with to move in with him. But Roger, and Benny really, probably wouldn't like that very much. He didn't particularly know, but he assumed Roger wouldn't be comfortable with everyone who attended life support living in their loft. The thought sent a smile to Mark's face.

Finally, the film maker was done packing everything up. He slipped his messenger bag over his shoulder, and slowly wrapped his scarf around his neck. He looked at the clusters of people having conversations, and sighed. He really was just a social reject. a dejected look on his face, <ark slowly started the walk towards the door. Maybe next time...

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan sat outside the community center, watching the people going in and out. A few of them had stopped and dropped cash and change into her cup. The sun shone down and a nice breeze blew, ruffling Joan’s short blonde hair. She leaned back against the wall of the building, closing her eyes. Such a nice day. She hummed under her breath, ignoring the stares. Why shouldn’t she sing if she wanted to? She wasn’t doing anyone any harm.

A soft light filled the sky and Joan dropped to her knees, ignoring the startled cries coming from behind her. Her Voices were here. At last! Crossing herself, she bowed her head, relief flooding through her. Perhaps she could at last begin her mission. “Is it time yet?” she whispered. "Shall I begin at once? What must I do?" Her voice grew louder with her excitement.

[renthead]

Mark was used to running into odd people on the street. He was not used to literally running into odd people. In an act that was quite like himself, he had been not paying attention to where he was going. But he had thought he'd been paying just enough attention to not run into people. But alas, he had been looking for people whose heads were about his level. Not someone on their knees, head bowed. But he hadn't noticed her, and he had tripped right over her. He caught himself before he ended up on the ground, but just barely. He looked back to where he had tripped, and finally noticed the human he had tripped over. What the heck?

The girl was talking, but Mark didn't think it was to anyone around. Mark blinked, looking at her carefully. "Um, are you alright? I'm sorry... why are you on your knees on the sidewalk?" he asked, knowing that was slightly rude but slightly annoyed from having tripped. It wasn't normal to be talking to no one on your knees in New York City. She was going to get killed or something. But, he didn't want to be mean, so he stayed to see if she needed professional help. Maybe she was schizophrenic?

[JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC]

Joan looked up at the voice coming from beside her. The light and her Voices faded almost at once and she sighed, her shoulders drooping. Now they had left her alone again. She tried to keep from scowling at the person who had interrupted her. After all, it wasn't his fault. He couldn't see what she could. She blinked, slowly coming back to the present. Shaking her head, she said, "I'm sorry what?" She rubbed her head. What had he said?

Her cheeks grew hot when she realized she was still kneeling on the ground. In everyone's way. Jumping to her feet, she stumbled back, heat filling her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't--my Counsel came and--" she clamped her mouth shut, suddenly aware of the others around her. "I'm sorry." In a flash she recalled what he'd said. "No, no I"m ok. Really." She tried to smile. "My name's Joan, by the way."

[renthead]

Mark looked at the girl carefully, and then blinked. No, he was not a shrink. He did not want to delve into this. So instead, he nodded his head. "Oh, okay. Just making sure someone hadn't stabbed you or something... I'm Mark." he stated as she stood up. He held out a hand for her to shake when she introduced herself, and smiled lightly. She looked like she was trying to smile, but really, it came out as a grimace. So, he figured he'd smile back. Or grimace back. But smiling was easier. He didn't have to think about it.

"So, um, Joan... do you normally kneel in the middle of sidewalks?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Okay, yes, he had said he wasn't going to delve into it. But he had to admit, it was interesting, someone who didn't think about how dirty the sidewalks must be.. okay, Mark was wishing he could have filmed her. He admitted it. It had almost been like she'd been praying. And how cool of a shot would that have been? Someone praying on the New York City sidewalk, while millions of people swarmed by unaffected? It would have been pretty damn cool... at least he thought so.