Rejuvanation ((group therapy type RP, read details))

Some people have problems, problems that they cannot get rid of on their own. These people need help, and they need professional help. Thats where the "Rejuvanation project" comes into play. It takes a group of men and women that have these problems, puts them in groups with counselors and therapists and other people like them. The group then tries to work out their problems, and solve them helping the person to rid themselves of the pain they have to go through each and everyday.

Rules:
Keep it realistic, obviously.
No one liners, and so on.
Fill out a profile, obviously.
Pics are accepted in the appearance section in your pro, however descriptions work better.
Have fun!

Profiles:

Code: Select all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]age:[/b]
[b]Gender[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Patient or counselor/therapist:[/b]
[b]Problem: ((If patient)):[/b]

My Profile:
Name: Zeek Mathis ((However he does not go by that name in the program, he goes by "Sweets"))
age: 23
Gender male
Appearance: Zeek is a bit shorter than most other men his age, but not by much. His body is lanky, and his brown hair, clean but messy and unkempt. It waves out everwhere, and even blocks his vision at times. His eyes are a deep blue, but he rarley lets people catch his eyes. He wears baggy clothes, as if he just threw something on real quick, not really caring how he looks.
Personality: "Sweets" has a deep heart but rarley shows it anymore. He is far from cruel or rude, just very quiet and reserved. When he talks to people he looks down or away, and refuses to look them in the face, especially the eyes. I'ts not that he's shy, it's that he's scared of what only he knows.
Patient or counselor/therapist: Patient
Problem: ((If patient)): Zeek was always a very sweet and romantic guy. However his efforts to show a woman true care. Finally he was able to do it, and became very happy. However one night, when he returned home, it was on fire. He rushed into save his lover, but was all to late. From then on he became a recluse, and blamed everything on himself. He finally tried to get himself some help with the program

Zeek walked into the room, and saw that he was the first to arrive, no one else was there. He saw a table, with refreshments and nametags to be filled out. He rushed over, and grabbed up a nametag as if he thought they could dissapear at anytime. The thing was he didn't want anyone asking his name, especially his real name. Therefore he wrote one single word on the nametag before pinning it to his red baggy shirt, the word was "Sweets". He then grabbed a cup of punch and turned to the circle of chairs in the middle of the small room.

"Here goes nothing...Zeek" He whispered to himself, saying his real name even quieter. He slowly walked over to one of the chairs, pulled it out, flipped it around and sat in it the chair backwards.

Name: Shayanne-goes by Shy
age:21
GenderFemale
Appearance: Shy is about 5'4 and has a thin curvy figure. Her hair is dark brown and reaches to her shoulder blades and is layered to where it sticks out most places. Her eyes are dark green. She wears tight clothing as if she at least tries to make herself look kept together.
Personality: She is quiet yet when with people she is comfortable with she is happy and more outgoing. She can be a little ditzy sometimes but mainly tries to keep her mouth shut. She is a very nice person and loves to help people but is usually afraid to how people will react to her speaking to them.
Patient or counselor/therapist:Patient
Problem: ((If patient)): When growing up she was abused mentally and physically. When she turned 18 she left her home and moved in with an abusive boyfriend but was too afraid to leave him for fear that he would kill her. When she turned the age of 20 her boyfriend almost killed her but when he thought that he had he killed himself only moments after. She was put in the hospital because he shot her in her side but luckily it didn't hit any vital organs and she is ok. When she got out she tried making a living for herself but the day she turned 21 she went out with friends at a club and when a guy came onto her and she refused him he yelled at her and left. At being yelled at she went to the bar ordering as much alcohol as she could one after another and drank too much making her pass out and she almost died. When she got out of the hospital she decided to get some help.

IC:
Shy walked into the room and looked around. Seeing only one other person she thought that maybe she should just not even try and leave but decided to see what the first session would be like. Looking over at the table of name tags she walked over and picked one up writing her full first name on it. After writing her name, Shy pinned it to her tight navy blue shirt and slowly walked to a chair and sat down in it looking over to the man that was already there. She gave him a nervous smile and nodded at him.

"Sweets" gave her a half smile back, but looked down as he did, not looking her in the face. Immediatley after he turned away from her, and stared into the center of the circle wondering if any counselors would ever show. As the moments passed he felt more and more like leaving. He had never fully been sure if anyone could help him out or not, and his doubts grew and grew with every second. Now the stress started to affect him physically instead of just mentally. He started rocking the chair up of the ground, and the forward and back onto the ground. He started mummering something to himself, making the only sounds in the room at that time, his incoherent mumbling and the tap, tap, tap as the legs of the chair hit the hard floor.

Shy noticed his actions clearly and looked away. She felt like going crazy in the silence, not to mention the counselor wasn't showing up. It wasn't like she had anything to do though. She was fired from her job because of her last incident and had nothing on her hands now. Looking over to the man she looked down at the chair. "My name is Shayanne." She said softly hoping not to get on his nerves or anything. She thought it would be best to at least talk to pass the time while waiting for the counselor.

He turned away from her, and pretended he was scratching the back of his head. "Im.... sweets" he finally managed to mutter. A few seconds later, he jumped up from the chair, and walked out of the room. "Nothings going on, I'm going outside for a smoke!" he said so quickly it was hard to understand. He did what he said, he walked outside, and fired up a cig. He wondered most of all when any counselors were going to show.

Name: John Smith (goes by john)
age:looks 30
Gender: Male
Appearance: full buisness suit (black), short, well kept brown hair. eyes are brown
Personality: is extremely bland, can easily be lost in a crowd because of his blandness. Is polite, and usualy quiet, unless angry, then all hell breaks lose.
Patient or counselor/therapist:Patient
Problem: ((If patient)): ANGER MANAGEMENT, RAPE, ABUSE, SCIZOPHRENIC, are the four classificasions that John has been placed into. Although he doesn't intentionaly do these things, he believes that another being takes over, and does the terrible things that john has been accused for.

IC: John rode up to the building which held the first session, he sighed and looked at his watch, 2 minutes early, he sighed relievingly, then exited his infiniti. He strode up to Sweets, and loudly coughed. Through his coughing, he asked if the address was right.

Name: Gabrielle Malone
age: 23
Gender Female
Appearance: 5'8-9, 165 lbs.(soaking wet), long wavey-ish fiery red/orange hair, Green cat-like eyes, and her dress style is grundgy. She has piercings that consist of a nose stud, a few earrings on each ear, and eyebrow. She also has tattoes of a half moon on side of belly peircing, anklet tattoo on left ankle, and 4-leaf clover on right hand between the thumb and pointer finger.
Personality: Not afraid to speak her mind, but can become shy at times. She is very self-concious about the scars on her body.
Patient or counselor/therapist: Patient
Problem: ((If patient)): Gabrielle lived one of those disturbed childhoods. It all happened when she was only 9-years-old. After her father lost his job as a fire fighter, he began to drink more and more until it finally consumed him. As the years went along, she had a druggy mother and an angry alcoholic father who lashed out at her after/during fights over stupid things with his wife. She lost her only male friend Richard in a fatal car crash when she was 14 and felt her life just go down hill from there. It began with how her grades were shown in school. She was a good student, but her grades showed otherwise, causing her to drop out at 16 and get a part-time job working as a waitress at a small down town Diner. Drugs, drinking, and smoking also became part of her life thanks to her 'loving' parents growing up. When she was 20, she finally left her home to persue her dream of becoming a big time musician. 3 years down the line, Gabrielle(now 23) was called by her best female friend/"sister" Bri-anna, who just recently was given a nicely sized home on a ranch near a lake by her Uncle in his will in Louisiana. After some persuading from Bri, Gabe decides to move in and help keep the place in tip-top shape while still working on her music career. A few months into living in the lavishly home, she takes notice upon a guy who peeked an interest in her at one of her performances. Glendon's was his name and despite the errie feelings she got from him, she felt drawn to him as well. What she didn't know(yet)about him made her choose between furthering the bond they had or cutting off all ties with him for good. After a few months of living the life of "sex, drugs, and rock n' roll", she decided enough was enough and sought out help at the nearest place.

IC:

So here it was. A chance for a new beginning. It was now or never and she'd rather have herself locked up in the crazy bin then go back to that life. After a quick shower and dressed into a fresh white wife beater, a checkered long sleeved shirt unbuttoned in the front, and a pair of denim jeans with sneakers, she made her way towards the room she was told to go to for the group meeting. So just how many other nut cases was she going to come into contact with today? Or for the next few months anyways.

Were they anything like the patients in 'One flew over the cuckoo's nest'? Was there a Nurse Ratchet who controlled everyone and if anyone misbehaved, they were sent to the room where parts of their brains were messed with, leaving them brain-dead and paralized? There was no way in hell she was going to be made a vegetable in this place.

Every Nurse, therapist, and/or counselor were nothing, but fakes here. They say they care, that they'll take care of you, help you through your up's and down's, but in the end, it's just another day, another pay check. Gabrielle wasn't dumb. This was reality. The real world. People pretend to care, when in fact they'd rather pass a poor homeless man living on the streets in need of food and shelter then stop and offer him a few bucks for a meal.

There she went again. Her mind was wondering. She stopped a few feet from reaching the door leading into the room, lifting a hand to her face as she brought it over her face and through her long fiery mane. A heavy sigh would leave her. Was she really ready for this? Raising her head up a little, she glanced over towards the door, staring silently at the door knob. Looking about the quiet halls a moment, she then strolled over, reaching out to grab the knob, but stopped mid-way. Peeking in through the small squared window, she noticed only one other girl in the room. She sat there, quiet and alone. Gabrielle wondered what her problem could be, but then decided to just let it go.

A clock was spotted on the corner of the room, reading just a few minutes before the meeting would begin. She could go throw in a quick smoke before starting right? Making her way through the halls, she found herself outside, just in time to spot two other men already there. One looked like he just came back from a business meeting while the other looked as if he just crawled out of bed. Shoving both her hands into her jean pockets, she strolled over towards the two.

"Say," she spoke up in her clear irish accent. "Think you can bum a girl a smoke?" This was directed towards 'Sweets', despite she didn't know his name yet.

"Smoke... no... I can't take those god forsaken lighters......" he said in a voice that was almost fearful. He started to slowly rock the chair he was in back in forth. Off and on it's front legs, which were in the back now because the chair was facing backwards. Obviously it was something that really bothered him to get that kind of reaction out of him. He wouldn't look at her, even try to get a small glimpse of her. It almost seemed like he was afraid to. ((Geez im too tired to post anymore, brain wont work))

John strode into the small room, staring straight down untill he came across a pile of nametags, he picked one up, and sat on a chair, putting his suitcase on his lap, pulled out a pen from his suitcase, then wrote his name on it.

Name: Kissta Ylevol
age: 20
Gender Female
Appearance: Short dark hair with blonde streaks, blue/gray eyes, always wears think black eye liner and gothic/punk clothes. Verry pale skin.
Personality: Verry tough and dosent talk much. She doesn't have friends but lots of enemys. Lives by the moto 'If you want it done right you have to do it yourself'.
Patient or counselor/therapist: Patient
Problem: ((If patient)): Has lived in foster homes since she could remeber untill she turned 18 and only has acouple memories of her real parents but she wont share them with anyone.Has been involved with gangs, drugs, and has serious anger masnagment problems. The biggest problem is that all of this is just a mask, and she dieing to get close enough to someone to share this stuff. She decided to come here after her last suicide atempt almost worked.


IC: Kissta walked in the room and didn't make eye contack with anyone. She kept the name tag blank just to see if anyone would get ticked off. As she sat down and stared at the lines in the table she started to think that this was a bad idea. If word gets out that she came here everyone would think she was going soft. *I bet all thease people are wack jobs.* looked around the room but was careful not to look at anyone. The walls were white. *I wonder if this is one of those 'let's share you feelings and cry together' type things. I'm starting to wish my suicide atempt would've worked now.*

OoC: I hope this is still going on. It looks like you're in need of a counselor.

Name: Azalea Conway
Age: 26
Gender Female
Appearance: Azalea (Zella to her friends) is a petite woman, standing at five feet four inches. She is slim, but isn't "just skin and bones". She has a golden tan and dirty blond hair, which is cut short and tends to be messy. Her eyes are a dark, deep blue, framed by long, thick lashes.
Personality: She tends to be a bit shy, but tries to push that aside while at work. There, she can't afford to be shy. She's a little naive sometimes, and doesn't see the bad sides of people. She sees the world through rose-tinted glasses, so to speak. She's completely optimistic and can be too trusting of people. But she's self-conscious, always wondering if she's good enough for the task set out for her.
Patient or counselor/therapist: Counselor

-

Azalea was running late. Very late. She ran around her tiny apartment, searching for her jacket, then her shoes and purse. The first day on the job and she was going to be late. "This is awful!" she cried as she put on her shoe. She was finally ready and paused for a moment to look in the mirror. She wore a simple cream colored sweater with dark slacks. Her silver lock was hidden under the sweater and, despite being rushed, her makeup looked decent. She had even managed to tame her wild curls so she didn't look too messy. Checking to make sure she had her wallet and cell phone, she ran out of the apartment and got into her car.

She was new to the town and the directions she was given weren't that good. And having no sense of direction herself, Azalea got lost. She cursed her bad luck and stopped to get proper directions. When she felt that she was on the right track, she let herself calm down. But nagging thoughts soon invaded her mind.

She was too young, too inexperienced for a job like this. What a stupid idea it had been of hers, to fly all the way across the country for a job she didn't even know if she would be good at. She certainly didn't do it for the money. The pay was awful, but that was to be expected from a job like this. She could have been a doctor working in the E.R., or a psychologist with her very own office if she wanted to. But she had chosen to leave her home, her friends and family and come to a strange town to help people she didn't know. What if they thought she was a joke? What if she wasn't up to standard?

'These people need help, Zella,' she thought. 'This program is new and has been needing a counselor for months. You're the only one who took interest in the job. You ARE qualified. You can do this.

She made it to the building and to her dismay saw that there were a couple people standing outside. How late was she? She looked at her watch and saw that she was only a couple minutes late. They couldn't have been waiting too long. She bit her lip as she took her key from the ignition and put it in her purse. "You can do this," she said aloud. She got out of the car, purse over her shoulder and walked up to the two people outside the building.

"Hello, you two must be here for the "Rejuvenation Project". That's all that's scheduled to be happening in this building today. I'm Azalea Conway, your counselor and I apologize for my tardiness. If you'll follow me inside we can begin the session." She smiled at them and turned and walked to the door, breathing out as she went. That wasn't so bad. Yes, her little "speech" sounded like it came straight from a B-rated movie, but at least she hadn't stuttered and blushed like she thought she might.

She went inside and saw that refreshments were laid out for all of them and she smiled. It must have been Amanda, her boss. The woman had seemed very eager to get this project up and running. She then saw that there were two other people there, a man in the business suit and a woman who was looking around the room. She went to the table and took a name tag, writing "Azalea Conway" across it in her neat handwriting.

"I'm sorry for being late," she said as she went to the circle of chairs and sat down. "I'm new to this town and the directions I had left much to be desired." She smiled, feeling a little bit more at ease. There weren't that many people here, and she would have been much more nervous if she were crowded. "Have some refreshments and fill out the name tags and we'll get started once we're all settled."

Kissta looked at the woman who had just walked in, her cream sweater was about as interesting as the white walls. "I'm sorry for being late," she stated as she sat in one of the ugly blue chairs, "I'm new to this town and the directions I had left much to be desired. Have some refreshments and fill out the name tags and we'll get started once we're all settled." Kissta rolled her eyes as she thought about the program, *OK, this lady is too happy. This is going to be a 'share feelings and cry type thing', jooooooy. NOT. Can we just get this over with already?*