introductory mingle: MEMORIA

[riverviewmod]

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

Comments

Elizabeth of York » OTA

[yorkist]

i. hanging the lanterns
( There is naught at all like this where she comes from. Prayer, officially is meant to be her only link to God, and by extension, to her loved ones whom have passed on. Her father. Brothers. Sister. Uncle. Half-brother. So much has been lost, and apparently begging a deity who turns a blind eye to the suffering of humanity is meant to contact them. Somehow. Elizabeth has not prayed in a long, long time. This—is far more personal, and she has difficulty maintaining an expression of calm neutrality as she moves about a stall offering lanterns for free.

Perhaps her words might truly reach her family this way. Without an apathetic god acting as a middleman.

She takes on several, one for each person she has lost; the only difficulty she has, unsurprisingly, is when it comes to her sister. )

Nay. None of these will do at all. These do not represent my sister—she was mischievous, bright and funny. The light of my family.

( And when she had died, it had gone out. )


ii. story time
( Elizabeth finds somewhere to sit where she might be warm, a glass of something hot in one hand. She looks up at a few others whom have unexpectedly gathered around her, and she smiles faintly. )

You would hear a tale, then? Very well. My father was His Grace, King Edward the Fourth of England. He won his throne at the age of nineteen, and in his lifetime was never defeated—

( The hook in place, she raises her cup and takes a sip, finding the herbal blend of what is in fact tea rather pleasant. )

Or I can tell you about my sister, if you prefer.


iii. floating the lanterns
( Her lanterns are covered in elegant calligraphy, both in Middle English and Latin. What she assumes is that none here will understand, which is entirely the point. When evening falls and everyone ventures down to the river to set their messages and memories adrift, her eyes fill with tears. Three years, it has been since her life had seemed to fall apart at the seams. All that time, there had never been an opportunity to process that fact.

Or even to weep. Which she does, unabashedly because others do the same. One lantern at a time is set adrift along the current, and when the last floats away from her hands, she raises them up as if to cover her face. )

Take good care of them. ( She whispers, in case Melusina might answer prayers. ) Since I cannot. I love them, I miss them, and one day, we shall all be together again.

Without strife to rend our family asunder.

ii

[song_of_ice]

[They had spoken briefly before, when he had honored the family he had lost. The emotions that had already stirred in him had been made worse by her presence. That sorrow that he hadn't completely expressed or shown was brought to the surface. It was either make a hasty exit or let himself run through the gambit of anger, pain, and anguish.

He ran like a craven.

When next he crossed her path, she wasn't alone. There were others around her, listening to her speak about her father. He was a king, which was hardly a surprise. She reminded him of the young princess he had seen before when King Robert came to Winterfell.

He maintained a respectful distance, listening to her story and the love she bore for her family. When she finished, he bowed his head to head in greeting.]

Your father sounds remarkable.

[yorkist]

( Elizabeth seems to brighten at the sight of him, seizing upon the image of that one familiar with amongst a sea of strangers.

She inclines her head, unable to keep the gesture from appearing regal. )

He was, my lord. Would you hear more, or have you a tale of your own to tell me?

Please, sit.

[song_of_ice]

[He took the seat without protest, but his mind went blank at the suggestion to share his own stories. It didn't seem right to subject a lady to his past. Many of the tales weren't fit and the rest were too precious to him.]

Tell me more.

[It was the safest course and he was intrigued by this king that had been given a crown at such a young age. Near Robb's, Jon imagined.]

Undefeated? That's no small achievement.

[Robb had been undefeated.]

[yorkist]

Very well! But only in exchange for your name. Do you agree?

( Her lips curve upward, and her eyes dance a little. He is handsome to gaze upon, and she cannot still her courtly tongue.

She tilts her head, smile growing warmer as she nods. )

Indeed it is not. He always said he was 'quick and braves and lucky.' He had a keen mind for battle tactics as much as he did business. His intellect astounds me still.

And my name is Elizabeth, if you are curious. Elizabeth of York.

[song_of_ice]

My name is Jon Snow, your grace.

[He can see that she is flirting with him and shifts uncomfortably, as he had when they met before.

His face remains serious, an expression he seemed unable to break.]

Elizabeth of House York.

[Luck. Yes, he supposed to existed, but it seemed to be a fickle thing.]

You are close to him.

[That was obvious.]

[yorkist]

Well-met, Jon Snow. And do titles truly matter here? I wonder. It would be an adventure to be nobody of nowhere, I think.

( There, she gives him a little wink. So beautiful a visage should not look so sad. )

Yes. Do not tell my siblings, should they ever arrive here, but I was his favourite. And the sun rose and set with him for me when I was a girl.

[song_of_ice]

You have your wish to be nobody here, but it doesn't change how I was raised. My father's ghost would haunt me if I didn't show respect to a princess.

[The thought of Ned sent a pang to his heart.

Despite himself, he gives a small smile in return to the wink. A reflex he doesn't usually have.]

You are the oldest of his children?

[yorkist]

( She stills at the mention of his father, grey eyes widening. And then she bows her head, expression vividly reflecting the empathy they had shared earlier. )

Then he must be more than simply a little proud of you. I have not found one single fault in your manners. He raised you well, and it does you both credit.

But I am simply myself, Jon Snow. There is— ( She hesitates, and then forges on. ) —a certain relief and peace in that.

Officially. A half-sister was born to a woman he met two years before I came along.

[song_of_ice]

I don't know. I hope he would be proud of me.

[It's something that consumed his mind since he had broken his vows. How would Lord Stark respond or view his decisions? He wanted his father to be proud, but somehow that didn't seem likely.

Now, after coming back from the dead, it didn't seem as pressing as it once did.]

I understand. [Better than she might know.] I will call you 'Elizabeth', if you will let me.

[A bastard?]

Did you know her?

[yorkist]

Was he good and kind to you in life? If so, then I believe you have your own answer.

( She has deduced this very simply, borne of a surety of having known her father her entire life long, and having also been secure in knowing she had his love. That she was the favourite of all his children.

And yet, not bearing his name nor the title she had inherited by having been born his daughter affords her relief she had never dreamed of. )

I can see it in your eyes. ( Which are beautiful. Her features soften, and she inclines her head. ) Then, I will. Please do.

( Indeed. )

Nay, I did not. My mother was, ah. Not at all fond of her, nor the others. One of them, Grace, was brought to court as her lady-in-waiting. I was not permitted to socialize overmuch with her, but she seemed a good, if quiet girl.

( Quiet, because of her mother. Elizabeth smiles, remembering the girl fondly. )

She looks a little like me.

[song_of_ice]

He was.

[As much as he could be. While Lord Stark looked after him and cared for him, a part of him wondered. Was it the insecurity he had as a boy that made him suspect he wasn't treated in the same way by him as his siblings? He didn't know his mother either, the one thing he had wanted to talk to him about since he was a child.

However, it didn't remove how much he loved his father or how much it pained him to be without him.]

She was a bastard?

[Elizabeth's mother seemed to treat her husband's bastards in the same way Lady Stark had treated him. Rather than feeling anger at either woman, he felt only pity for them, but especially for Grace.]

It's the same with my sister and me.

[yorkist]

Then he was proud of you. There is naught there to give cause for doubt.

( She says matter-of-factly, and does not linger on the subject. Elizabeth nods her head to his question, her smile turning into a wan, fragile thing. )

Yes. So am I, now. And all of my trueborn siblings. By "law." All the grumblings of my Lady Mother could not avert that.

( Now, she and Grace are not quite so different at all. She understands well his meaning, and decides to share that with him. )

Is she kind to you, your sister? I hope so. But the stroke of a pen differs the trueborn from those who are not in the end.

There were those who doubted my own father's legitimacy. Even his own brother. Do you know, though? My country knew peace and prosperity thanks to him that it had not in nearly half a century.

( What she means by sharing this with him is clear, and her smile brightens a little. ) We find ourselves somewhere our character may determine our worth, as well.

(ii)

[signifies]

[ Having only acquired family-like-a-sister of his own, Clark is curious. His parents never adopted another child. Clark knows why and he's not angry at them.

It would have been nice to have a sibling though.

He happens to be sitting near her, in dark-colored formal robes. The stylised S glyph on his chest in grey, blending with the other colors at the same time. ]

Whoever you prefer, ma'am.

[ It's her story to tell. ]

[yorkist]

( Well now, she has never quite been styled that way before. Elizabeth is intrigued, smiling warmly over at him.

Her gown is simple, the same powder blue in which she had arrived. She takes a moment to push her long hair back over her shoulders, and lean back in her chair.

She is not at all averse to speaking of her father now. Much less so than others she has lost. )

Elizabeth will do nicely, thank you, sir. As I understand it, my title means naught here.

( Right. Taking a breath, she begins anew: )

He came to power during the height of a civil war we, in our time called 'The Cousins' War,' as it was tantamount to a very large blood feud. When he came to power, there remained uncertainty. He had wed my mother, who many saw to be beneath him. That infuriated his cousin, the Earl of Warwick. Who rose up against him more than once, alongside my uncle George.

They succeeded in briefly deposing him When I was five years old. I remember, we had to plead the rite of Sanctuary at Westminster Abbey. They housed us in the crypt, of all places.

( Anyway. Shaking her head as though to clear it, she continues. ) My father later fought Warwick at the Battle of Barnet with half the amount of men his opponent had. But he triumphed, and came away with half the casualties in the end.

[signifies]

[ He thinks she is at least a ma'am. The dress is of fine material and her bearing very regal. Clark hasn't met royalty even as Clark Kent, so it's only a guess.

A good one, because she says she has a title.

He leans in to listen raptly when she speaks, even though he'd have heard her fine from where he is. To his sensitive ears, her voice is pleasant and soothing. She is a gifted storyteller, evoking images with few words. ]

He seemed like a wise leader. I'm sorry for your loss.

[yorkist]

You have my most heartfelt thanks, sir.

( The title has become as a ball and chain to her within the past two years. Any prestige and meaning it had once borne for her are long since gone.

But he is kind, and she has known so little of that that she marks it.

Bowing her head a little, she sighs. )

He was. England knew peace during his lifetime; he was never defeated on the field, and left a surplus in the treasury at the time of his death. Fever, of all things.

Father wanted to surprise us all, by going fishing himself for our supper. He fell in the river and never recovered.

[signifies]

[ Clark shakes his head. ]

Just Kal, please, ma'am.

[ They'd both like to be polite. It would make him smile to himself if she wasn't talking about someone she'd lost. ]

Have you managed to hang a lantern for him? It's the local custom.

[yorkist]

( A name she has not heard before. Curious, her smile warms again. )

Very well. We are well-met, Kal. Might I ask whence you come? If that is an improper question, please forgive me.

I have never left England's shores before now.

( They are, and though the subject matter is grim, she manages to continue to smile in any case. )

Not yet, no. What am I to do with these lanterns, simply choose one and hang it?

( She is uncertain as to whether or not there is more to it, and does not wish to offend the locals. )

[signifies]

Well-met, Elizabeth. [ He thinks he should break "I'm an alien" gently. When she's more settled he can offer more details. ] I'm from very far away, although I recognise England. There are a few others in the city from there.

[ When he thinks about it, she reminds him a little of Cecilia. They look the same age. ]

Yes. I can accompany you. [ He hopes that's proper. Clark only has his upbringing to fall back on. ] If that's not too forward.

[yorkist]

( The fact that he's adopting her way of speaking a little makes her smile brighten. ) I am sorry that you have been thus displaced, but I hope you have found yourself among kindred spirits here.

So I have seen! I have met one such lady already. Though I am in a poor position indeed to care for them as would be the duty of my family, I will do what I might.

( Elizabeth gracefully rises to her feet, abandoning her cup on the table for the time being. )

Not at all, sir. I would like that very much.

[signifies]

I have. I hope you do too.

[ He offers her his arm. It looks like they'll keep their sirs and ma'ams, which suits Clark. ]

This way, ma'am. [ They're going down a street with many different types of lanterns being handed out. ] Do you see anything that your father might have liked?

[yorkist]

You are very kind to say so; it is much appreciated. Thank you, once again.

( For now, in the very least. A habit that ingrained will take some time to break. )

Very well. ( Taking his arm, she offers him a small smile before her attention is taken up entirely by the sheer variety of the lanterns being given out.

There are so many, and at first she cannot see one which reminds her of her father. Further down the way, she spies one vaguely shaped like the Trojan Horse, and she halts mid-step, going entirely still as she nods to it. )

That one. He would read me the history of Troy often when I was a girl.

[signifies]

[ The street is crowded. People are bustling around and carrying their own fragile lanterns to place on bridges or roofs.

He waits for her to point out something she'd like. Clark doesn't know about what her father might really have wanted, or he would have suggested something. ]

We'll have that one, please.

[ It's handed over to Elizabeth immediately with a murmured condolence for her loss. ]

[yorkist]

My thanks.

( Gingerly, she takes hold of the delicate lantern in her hands, glancing briefly down at it. Yes—it will suit perfectly, and for more than simply her father.

A small, wistful smile crosses her face. )

When the King of France broke the treaty that would have seen me wed the Dauphin, I was aghast. He sent the men attending him away and held me until I could smile again.

He was not perfect but he was... good.

( There are writing implements on the counter, and the clerk offers her one before she steps away, taking a long moment to write in elegant, neat gothic-looking calligraphy that story and more, quotes of verse and things she had loved most about her father and each of her siblings.

When she is done, she replaces the pen, and meets his gaze again. )

Where am I to hang this, sir?