They tell you "Fuck off?" After you've sent out a message like that, it's expected that they see it and reply with "please don't knock on my unit" or something similar, if they're not interested in seeing their new neighbor.

Okay. She takes a few deep breaths, watches for "don't knock" messages, psyches herself up a bit.

This is a place that cares about meeting people and being sweet to them. This is a good place. She's going to be okay. 

Here I go. Thanks for all the help. 💜

And then out she goes to knock on a random door that hasn't sent a "fuck off not now" (if she's received any of those.)

Sable has received zero "fuck off" messages or shouts so far (after knocking on her first door!) A man wearing a pretty pajamas opens the door and takes a look at Sable. She's able to make out a historical drama of some kind projected against and taking up nearly an entire wall in his apartment. "You look quite beautiful, miss! Were you looking forward to getting to meet some people and talk to them?"

She blushes a bit at the compliment and smiles at him. "Thank you! And yeah, looking forward to meeting people, chatting a bit, maybe doing some friendly or supportive RP if people are up for it sometime soon?"

"You'll find tons of takers for the RP! Although, on my end, I was really enjoying the drama I was watching, so you'll have to wait a bit for me to join. Here." He lifts up his phone, motioning for Sable to tap hers against his and share contact information through NFC. "They just need to tap for a moment, and I'll know how to contact you. Way less annoying than both of us putting each others' contact info into our phones."

She smiles, taps her phone to his, and nods. "Thanks! Enjoy your drama!"

"I absolutely will! And I think I might join you later, as well." He waves her goodbye and slowly closes the door behind him as he closes the door to his apartment.

Okay, she takes a breath. That went well.

Next door.

It reveals a woman wearing a simple, grey dress. She smiles as she gets a look at Sable. "I saw your message! I'm always happy to meet new people and make new friends. Can you tell me about yourself?"

Sable smiles back at her. "Okay! I'm Sable, I'm thirty-one, I like sailing and swimming, I'm planning to try dance class and sword-fighting soon, and I might try writing fiction eventually. I like helping people and seeing people smile. I'm also kind of fragile and emotional from a complicated bad time before I moved to Leakey Resort a few days ago."

"That sounds really cool and exciting! Do you want to try some RP? I really like doing standby support, and I think you might appreciate it, too."

She grins and blushes, a bit embarrassed but eager. "Yeah, I've never tried it before but I think it sounds great. I'd love to."

"Then count me in! I don't have anything to do, right now. But I'm guessing you don't want to start on that, right this second?"

"Yeah. Want to meet more people first, maybe see if anyone else wants to participate"

Sable finds that quite a few of her neighbors want to participate, actually. She can choose around 3 or 4 different ones happy to be "assigned nurses" in her apartment, they don't think it'd be particularly wise to have more than that participating in the RP with Sable. 

She winds up with a trio of cuddly, sweet, cute women, all of whom seem to have a pretty good sense for when someone needs a hug.

The trio hide themselves in either the bathroom or bedroom, waiting for Sable to use her "call button" (pushing a button on her phone to send a message so they'll make their way into the mainroom with Sable, who's "sick")

Sable nestles into her couch, a little embarrassed about the whole thing, but puts her breakup playlist back on, eats a bite of the last of the ice cream — she'd put the remainder away when she started getting dressed up earlier — and then looks down at the increasingly empty tub.

She spent her whole life in a culture that shames people for not working, for being vulnerable, and for being different. And it marked her. She may learn and heal, but there will be scar tissue. Even just on her ability to be vulnerable.

Her breath hitches.

She lets herself feel it, lets it sink in that she's feeling something she'd be shamed for back in Louisiana, that she has support for it here, and then hits the call button with tears in her eyes.

The trio emerge from their rooms, looking over Sable with concern and worry, before one of them advances before the others and gives her a tight hug. "Are you well? Are you feeling any pain or discomfort?" She squeezes Sable, quietly looking around, and keeps up the pressure, giving the others looks tacitly saying, "be prepared for a handoff, our "patient" needs 24/7 care".

She looks up, briefly forces a brittle smile before remembering, letting it shatter, and shaking her head. "It hurts. It hasn't stopped hurting for years, I'm realizing, and only now am I letting myself feel it."

She leans into the hug.

The hug continues, her warmth helping heat up Sable, and the pleasant pressure making her feel protected and cared for. "We'll care for you, we'll be here for you, don't worry."

She sags in her arms. Her breath hitches in another sob. How the fuck does she deserve this? She doesn't, she couldn't, she hasn't worked hard enough, hasn't helped enough people, hasn't earned her luxuries.

But that's the lie. It's always there. You don't have to do anything to deserve comfort or care, even though her homeworld said you do.

Another sob. She squeezes tighter.

Would that she could forget.

Except she never wants to forget, because it's important to know that sometimes people don't choose to be kind, and that leaves scars. It's important to know how important kindness really is. Since she's lived through it's lack, she'll carry the memory, the scar tissue after she heals, to know the lack can't be countenanced.

Everyone deserves better. Even her.