Space-Horror Rehab [Howling at the Moon] (SFW Group RP)

[Cracked Pepper]

NAME: Howling at the Moon
 
SUMMARY:
On the tortured outer dregs of the universe, where the myth of stable planets spreads in a whisper, a charitable society has set up an experimental clinic on a small moon.
They come from a far away system, offering shelter, food, and treatment to applicants who have experienced unusual circumstances.
Some of the clients have had their home planets destroyed in intergalactic warfare or were raised as elite soldiers for massive armies. Other have escaped seemingly paranormal reality glitches or fallen prey to eldritch horrors from the abyss. Will they open up over time? Or become aggressive?
The counselors are generally well meaning, but have limited facilities, and face a certain amount of danger, as they try to befriend and help the clients.
Their stories will unfold in this SFW group thread role-play.
 
RULES:
All clients must be there related to the above-mentioned themes, not realistic or real-life forms of trauma.
All characters must pass an application interview, but you can run multiple characters, either counselors, or clients, (and possibly raiders later in the story).
All counselors must be from particular distant galaxy devoid of horror themes, and not have had particularly traumatic experiences (until working there).
All combat actions must be agreed to by both parties beforehand in the combat thread.
Write in third person, past tense.
 
OTHER:
Clients are each provided with a modest sized room, which technology allows them to customize to their preference when they first start staying there, (e.g. tropical hotel, cosy living room) but a running joke may be that clients always set their room to be something strange and unexpected (hospital waiting room, a cave, etcetera).
 
APPLICATION POST: PM me your response. (With as much or as little recorded history as makes sense for the character.)

The room is well varnished, with a thick green carpet, and shiny wooden furniture. A twisting, elusive piano song plays very softly in the background, from a speaker near the silver name on the desk reading ‘Johnathan Reed’.

The head of the clinic sits, slightly stooped over, reading up on the newest applicant’s history file, or what they have of it. He is an old man, with tiny spectacles, and amiable jowls despite being rather thin. He wears a relaxed suit, with a ridiculous tie, embroidered with a wolf howling at the moon.

After a moment he looks up at the newest applicant, politely. The closed door to the office is reflected in his glasses, as well as the man in the navy security-uniform standing beside it with his hands behind his back.
“Tell me,” Mr. Reed wets his lip, throat wobbling faintly. “What brings you here?”