riverviewlogs | introductory mingle: MEMORIA

Entry tags:

introductory mingle: MEMORIA

who: everyone in Riverview!
what: Introductory Log and Memoria Commemoration
when: May 1st - May 8th
where: Anywhere around the city.
warnings: please put any necessary warnings in the subject lines

memoria

In the days leading up to May 1st, residents new and old will notice preparations beginning, a flurry of activity getting the city ready for the upcoming celebration: Memoria. A more solemn celebration than Sampremi or the Flower Festival, Memoria is a week-long time of remembrance for those lost in the Great War and the epidemic that decimated Riverview Quarantine's population 10 years ago. Memoria traditions include lighting lanterns for the dead, telling stories about lost loved ones or lost homes, eating meals with loved ones, and a special gathering to send floating lanterns down the river in honor of those lost.

a solemn commemoration of those lost

While the main city-wide event associated with Memoria is the floating of lanterns down the river on the evening of May 8th, the holiday is generally seen as a time of reflection on and appreciation of things that have been lost - people, homes, cultures, and planets. It is also a celebration of the things that remain. Many locally-owned shops will host displays of culturally-significant food, and will hand out informational flyers sharing the unique customs of their own homeworlds. There is a heavy emphasis on sharing time with family, friends, and lovers, and anyone who is able to will cook meals or treats for loved ones, or at least purchase them something good to eat.

i. hanging lanterns

Throughout the entire week of Memoria, residents will be hanging lanterns around the city. Lanterns are generally placed in greater number in places of passage - streets, bridges, and all alongside the train lines are particularly well-decorated, as are any trees alongside paths, and most homes and businesses have a profusion of lanterns around their doors and windows. This tradition is twofold; some people believe that the lanterns are hung in these places in order to guide the spirits of the dead back to those who still love them, other people believe that the lanterns are to give light for living loved ones to find their doors in times of darkness...many people believe both.

No matter what your character might believe, you can be sure they will find themselves offered a lantern for free from various businesses or friendly citizens passing by, and invited to hang it before the sun sets, or they may be handed a bundle of lanterns and asked to help share them with others.

ii. sharing life

Throughout the city, characters will find groups of people gathering to share hot drinks and talk about their loved ones lost, their homes and planets, or their experiences during the Great War and the epidemic. Anyone who has lost someone, who has fought to survive, who is feeling cut off and homesick, is welcome to sit and share their story. If your character chooses to sit and to share their story, they will find that people will gather to listen, will generally be respectful of the telling, and may share their own similar experiences in return. This is an excellent time to air grief in an environment where most people understand and respect grief, and a good time to deepen the connections to others around you, to understand them better.

There is also a very large focus on cooking or purchasing meals or treats for loved ones during Memoria, with many people taking meals with everyone they care about during the week of the holiday. Some go the extra mile and will hand out baked goods (usually chocolate or cinnamon), packets of candy, or other little treats to acquaintances, especially if they would like to form a closer bond with them. This is a great time for characters to reach out to someone they would like to get to know better with a surprise treat!

iii. floating of the lanterns

On the evening of May 8th, just before sundown, many of the city's residents will head toward the banks of the river, where they will light lanterns in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and colors, in honor of their dead loved ones. The types of lanterns vary wildly, based on personality (either of the person floating it or the person they are honoring), culture, and many other factors. Some lanterns are very simple, others are incredibly complex, but the one common feature they all have is that people write on the shades of them - they write about their feelings for their loved ones, their wishes for their relationships and friendships, a memory from childhood or home, or even just lines of poetry or lyrics from songs that express something they miss, or something that hurts them.

Once those emotions are written on the lanterns, the lanterns are set free, floating down the river in the darkening evening, in a cathartic gesture shared by most residents of the city. Waves of lantern floating will start around 7 pm and continue until the sun rises on the morning of May 9th.

iv. roommates or wildcard

Feel free to use this prompt to set up headers for a communal floor, or threads open to roommates for the purpose of getting to know each other. Or if you have an idea for a prompt that isn't in this list, set during Memoria, feel free to write it up!

visual inspiration

click on thumbnails for larger view

Credit: image i: glowconcepts, image ii: by trenchmaker, image iv: cherryorange; image iii: found uncredited on Pinterest - please let the mod know if you find credit!

navigation

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sans isn't too into this thing. He's passed circles like this, people clustered together, huddled around steaming mugs kindly offered by sympathetic people. Inviting each other to speak and be heard, like by twisting open a spigot on their most buried grief they might vent off enough of the toxicity of their loss to get by for another year.

Yeah, he's seen and heard of monsters doing the same. Anything, anything to keep hope alive.

But like he thought earlier -- this ain't his kinda thing. It's striking, though, when he shuffles past with the hood of his hoodie up, more or less obscuring his skull of a face from casual (and ultimately disruptive) observation. That there's a young kid among all these older people. That no one's talking.

Maybe because they're a lot like Sans is about kids, none too sure how to handle them. But they chose to sit there, chose to volunteer their time to listen to people's stories. So, yeah, ok. Maybe the skeleton doesn't have it in him to join in, but he sure as heck has it in him to judge them for not urging the kid to continue.

So one voice rumbles a question, cuts straight through that silence with the sort of accent that belongs in the crowded streets of Brooklyn. From somebody who watches on the outskirts of a circle of bystanders. ]

Yeah? Then let's hear it, kiddo.

[ He hadn't expected anyone to be interested, so for a moment, Jon was at a loss. He's never talked to so many people before and he finds his courage failing him. But he squares off his shoulders. Superman would have done this. Jon could do it too. ]

They were a small team working together after . . . after Pearl Harbor. Out of the group, two of them were best friends. Captain Storm and Johnny Cloud. One day though, the Losers got separated and lost. And were trapped on . . . [ he lowers his voice on a dramatic whisper. ] a dinosaur island.

[ This revelation garners a few chuckles from those hailing from worlds that recognize dinosaurs as things that no longer walk the earth -- or, uh, the Earth they called home, anyway. Maybe even mistaking this for a child's fantasy.

Considering there are monsters who resemble what humans call dinosaurs, Sans doesn't find it quite so fantastic. Someone starts to say that such a place can't exist, before being shushed by another person seated in the circle. That same voice outside the circle speaks up again: ]

C'mon, guys. Most of us didn't even know where were alternate universes out there until we got here. Think there can't be a dinosaur island? Bet Jurassican.

[ Whoops, that one wasn't so kid-friendly. ]

[ Is that a pun? Jon squints slightly. How many people in Riverview really like puns?? But he doesn't get hung up on it. ]

So they were trapped on dinosaur island. They came across old planes ships — other people had been trapped there too and never made it out. But the Losers were different. They were tougher. And they stuck together. Captain Storm had lost his eye and leg in the war, but that didn't slow him down.

[ A few seem to genuinely enjoy Sans's really terrible sense of humor, but none of them seem to be in attendance.

Maybe the silence is merely polite tolerance. Could be. Sans, though, he's listening because here's a tale getting told by the perspective of a kid who, he suspects, cares a lot about the outcome, or the people in it.

Or he's gotta helluva poker face and is trolling them all. He doesn't think that's the case here. ]

Sounds like you really looked up to this guy. What happened then?

[ Now Jon falters. He doubts Captain Storm would be pleased if Jon lied here. Still . . . what should he say? ]

He was pretty great. They fought their way through that island, finally bribing a pterodactyl to get Mr. Cloud to safety. But Captain Storm fell off during the flight and was still stranded on the island.

[ A pause as Jon tries to organize his thoughts. ]

As he wandered . . . he found Mr. Cloud's body. He didn't make it out. After that, Captain Storm decided he would stay and defend his friend's memory.

Because . . . the Losers stay together.

[ He finishes quietly. Jon still doesn't know if Captain Storm is dead or not. His father said otherwise but . . . Jon knew what kind of end waits for people. ]

Thanks for listening.

[ It's very quiet once the boy finishes speaking.

Then again, it often is after someone's done with their story. To Sans, this one feels a little bit heavier, somehow. Maybe because, coming from a kid, there's a certain gravitas in speaking with such mature finality.

The hooded figure reaches up to rub at his cervical vertebrae, clearing the throat he doesn't have. ]

Welp. I'm hittin' the bar.

[ This gets Sans a dirty look from someone who finds it (somewhat rightfully) an unsympathetic (and probably tasteless) response. The skeleton doesn't stick around to find out; monsters like him don't do this sort of thing too well. But maybe, uh, maybe he might be keeping an eye socket out for this kid. ]

[ Jon waits a bit until the crowd disperses a little before he scrambles after Sans. He can't help staring a little because skeleton but Jon's manners are drilled into him so he doesn't stare long. ]

Hey, uhm. Thanks for standing up for me.

[ Sans doesn't want trouble, he never wants trouble, hell -- he goes outta his way to avoid trouble, which is why he's got the hood up, just in case seeing a walking, talking skeleton happens to upset someone already feeling emotionally fragile with this whole Memoria 'celebration'.

He hears someone scampering up on him, so Sans side-steps before he turns, supraorbital ridges seeming to lift, perhaps in surprise. Really, really understated surprise; his general demeanor of dozy good humor doesn't change much. ]

...

[ He rolls his shoulders, chuckling. Huh. Something about this kid--well, none of his business. ]

Takes a lotta guts to speak up like that, kiddo. I couldn't do whatcha did.

[ And the obligatory punchline, as he shuts an eye socket: ]

Y'know, being a skeleton and all.

[ Jon's lips twitch as his eyes spark with newfound curiosity. ]

My mom said I should . . . say something. But I'm not as good with words as she is.

Is it hard being a skeleton? Can you eat normal food?

Heh heh, your mom's probably gotta point.

[ Sans doesn't do that annoying thing other adults do like crouch down to get on a kid's level. For one, at almost exactly five feet tall, Sans is already almost on a kid's level, and for another, he's too lazy. ]

You mean human food? Goes straight through me.

Still-- I'da thought you'd be a little, y'know...

[ He trails off. ]

[ Jon blinks. ]

A little what?

[ Not a clue, huh..?

Actually, that's kinda a point in this kid's favor. ]

Not even put off at all? Pretty weird. Most humans don't like my kind too much. Monsters, I mean. But you..?

Heh. Looks like you're just curious. Reminds me of somebody I knew.

[ Jon isn't human and he's seen enough strangeness not to be put off by it. ]

I met a vampire already. He seemed nice. And I bet not all monsters are the same, right . . . ?

[ It's like Jon and the Kryptonian past. Good and bad. There's no easy line dividing the time. ]

[ A vampire, huh..?

Guess Sans can't dismiss that as pure fantasy -- after all, lotta humans could scarcely believe a skeleton like him could exist, either. There's probably a lesson for him in what the kid says, about not all monsters or humans being the same. ]

No bones about it, pal.

I'm one-of-a-kind around here. Seriously. The creatures outside everybody's callin' monsters? Ain't even the same species as me.

Because they can't talk and make cool puns?

[ Jon isn't the biggest fan of puns, but he has a dad. He's heard enough of them to get an idea of what they're like. And this guys clearly enjoyed them. ]

Heh heh heh... nice. But that ain't it.

Those guys out there? They're a lot more like you than they are like me. Pretty tough to explain when I'm runnin' on fumes.

[ He stands, at best, to about chest-height at most with the average adult around here, no amount of craning his neck is going to help him see what's around that's open and still selling food, so he starts walking in the direction of a place he knows might be open.

Sans and his tradition of bringing kids into bars may or may not continue, even here. It, uh. Doesn't even occur to him to see where this kid's parents are. He's just hungry, wants a drink, and doesn't much care what else happens so long as it doesn't really interfere with the first two.

As he shuffles along: ]

People like you, you've got all kinds of stuff inside you. Muscles and fluids and tubes they go through, you follow me?

Sooo they're like us because we have . . . flesh?

[ Jon watches the bar, but doesn't take anything, keeping his hands to himself. He knows what he's allowed to have. Even an adult being there doesn't mean Jon will break the rules his parent set for him. ]

Ehh. You both got physicality, or somethin' like that.

[ Sans extracts a bony hand to flip it through the air in a neglectful gesture that doesn't really mean much of anything, tucking it back into his hoodie's pocket.

This, he decides, is not a very effective way of explaining this.

Normally, he wouldn't bother, but the kid's natural curiosity almost makes him want to, uh... give it the old college try?

It's weird. ]

How familiar are you with magic, kid?

I know it . . . exists?

[ Jon certainly hasn't had any dealings with magic himself. And Kryptonians have never been fond of magic. It's one of the few weaknesses they have. ]

[ Know what..?

That's. That's a start. And it's a better start than most humans, so, uh. Yeah, he'll go with it. He briefly places a cold, skeletal hand against Jon's shoulder, shrugging the other shoulder as he tries to explain. ]

Me and my kind are made of the stuff. The creatures you guys call monsters outside the perimeter fence, they aren't. So we're about as different from each other as you can get.

[ Sans takes a seat on a bar stool, motioning for the bartender's attention.

Wait.

When exactly did they enter this building, anyway? ]

Welp, here we are. You hungry?

[ Jon shakes his head. ]

No thank you, sir.

[ He does, however, listen to Sans' explanation. He hasn't faced any of the monsters outside the perimeter, though Jon wants to go on a mission someday. It makes sense that magical creatures wouldn't share a connection with non-magical ones. ]

Are you the only monster in Riverview?

...You heard the kid, I'll have the usual.

[ The skeleton turns those strange little lights in his eye sockets over to Jon, as the bartender -- with one sidelong and somewhat disapproving glance at his company -- bustles off.

Is he the only monster in Riverview?

Sans would be lying if he claimed he hadn't already checked that fact thoroughly. And, liar though he may be, he sees no point in doing so now. ]

Yeah, kid. Like I said, one-of-a-kind. And, geez, none of that 'sir', stuff. The name's Sans.

[ Wow. The only one. Jon isn't the only kid though he often feels like he is. ]

That must be lonely.

[ Not just that, but in being a kid, there's a lot of restrictions imposed on children by more responsible adults than Sans. A bottle of ketchup is deposited in front of the skeleton, who takes it with a grateful nod at the bartender.

He's uncapping it when Jon's comment catches up with him. ]

You think so, huh?

[ Tapping the tip of a phalanx against the side of the bottle his hand is holding, he watches the kid with renewed interest. That's a surprising amount of empathy for someone so young. ]

I dunno 'bout that. I don't see too many kids, so. Aren't you?

ii.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject