riverviewlogs | monthly mingle: MEMORIA

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monthly mingle: MEMORIA

who: everyone in Riverview!
what: monthly mingle: memoria
when: the month of may
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 each Sunday evening of the month, 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 and inviting others to share those customs. 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 each Sunday evening of May.

iv. down with the sickness

The epidemic that happened 10 years ago was an incredibly traumatic experience for the people living in the Quarantine, on a cultural scale as well as a personal one. While most people who live in the Quarantine are able to leave after 5 years, the trauma lingers in any number of invisible ways in the city. Besides that, there is a small population of people who have chosen to live permanently in the Quarantine, who have made it their home and embraced its melting pot of cultural diversity as their own. Many of these people are survivors of the epidemic, and have a particularly poignant connection to the Memoria celebration.

One of these long-term residents is an engineer specializing in magically-enhanced robotics who lost most of her family in the epidemic, and as each year passes she becomes more and more distraught by how the population turns over and slowly loses track of the importance of Memoria. In her eyes, it's become symbolic, commercialized, a celebration of general grief and not the very specific grief the Quarantine experienced 10 years ago. And she has decided to do something about it, something to make the specific trauma of the epidemic very real and very current to everyone in the city.

On May 1st, she will be releasing a small cloud of self-replicating magically-enhanced nanites near City Hall. The nanites are drawn to warm, living bodies, and once they enter, they find their way to the brain and central nervous system (or equivalent, depending on physiology) and start to take effect on the parts of the brain (or equivalent) that control a person's sensory experiences and psychosomatic responses. In effect, the nanites work as an artificial virus that makes residents horribly ill, and which can be passed from person to person like a contagion.

Throughout the month, reports of this mysterious illness will sweep through the Quarantine, with residents uncertain of how to cure it. Symptoms vary widely depending on the person, with each affected person facing a uniquely personal set of symptoms - but each case has the same thing in common: it ends with the victim losing consciousness and lapsing into a coma.

How It Works

● Participation is opt-in, and while the "epidemic" can't be ignored in the city, characters are not required to get ill even if they are exposed.
● The "disease" can be spread from person to person by skin-to-skin contact or exchange of fluids (kissing, coughing, spitting, etc.) There is no set symptoms for the "disease," and how much or little a character is affected or in what ways is up to player discretion. Incubation period (time between exposure and first symptoms appearing) is also up to player discretion.
● Since the nanites are based in both tech and mgaic, they are much harder to defeat than they would be otherwise. However, they can be deactivated and destroyed through a combination of electromagnetic pulses and magical nullification or spell-dispersing abilities. Players are also welcome to come up with other ways to deactivate the nanites, keeping in mind that it should not be too easy.
● Affected characters can be sick for as long or short a time as the player decides, and once they lapse into a coma it can last as long as the player decides. Once the character wakes from the coma, they will no longer be sick and the nanites will no longer be present in their system.
● Once a character has been infected, they will be immune and cannot be reinfected.
● All sick characters will be well again by May 31st and there will be no long-term effects.

● If any players wish to pursue or bring to justice the perpetrator, please send the mod a PM and we can discuss your ideas!

v. roommates or wildcard

Feel free to use this prompt to meet new roommates, for the purpose of getting to know each other, or hit up the mod-posted prompt to create a Communal Housing floor mingle. 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: RAW Visual, image ii: by trenchmaker, image iv: Bianca Draghici; image iii: found uncredited on Pinterest - please let the mod know if you find credit!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Maker, no! If they walked the world as we do, we'd have to accept we're policed at all times. How unsightly!

[He's jesting of course.]

I've been about for seven months, but the Quarantine is a fickle beast. A please, Breq, and a charming name, I might add.

[The raised eyebrow remains. It's been a long time since anyone tried flattery on Breq, so Dorian gets notes for audacity there.]

Likewise, Dorian.

Speaking of policing-- it seems a risk for them to allow their newcomers casual and immediate access to the city. I have to assume this place isn't without its incidents in exchange.

Everyone here is a "newcomer" as you say. Those who call the Quarantine home were once just like you or I. They've simply decided to stay and have a go of it here. Some of them had nothing to which to return, others...found more meaning in their lives here than in their own worlds.

[He shrugged slightly.]

It's a welcoming and accepting community. Many have experienced more freedom of expression and thought than they ever knew at home. We all stand in defense of it. Should anyone arrive with ill-intent, they would be hard pressed to do a thing about it. We count among our number gods, mages of several persuasions, demi-gods, mech pilots, assassins, superheroes...and this is our home.

[He smiles.]

So, no. It isn't too much of a risk, really.

Edited 2018-05-15 02:38 (UTC)

Fair enough.

[Breq returns his shrug with one of her own.]

In a place like this I'd expect misunderstandings and cultural clashes to sprout constantly. Though if, as you say, the community is thoroughly invested, that may shed some light on the lack of... extreme conflict.

Yes, well, there are also a lot of very large beasts beyond the walls of the quarantine that enjoy chewing on us, regardless of species, so I believe that may help to settle any differences over class or creed.

[He shrugs.]

There is also a distinct lack of an organized religion attempted to dictate our actions. Equally helpful.

You'd think. [In her experience, the disagreements never completely die when an outside threat shows up. They just become more complicated. She doesn't mean to be cynical, but in her experience, it's only a realistic thing to expect.] I'll let the experience speak for itself.

For someone religious, you don't speak fondly of the establishments of religion.

That's usually best, rather than taking some other person's perspective. One's own is normally superior, and devoid of outside influence, so all the better.

[He raises an eyebrow at the assessment, tapping his chin thoughtfully.]

Did I claim to be religious? I don't recall...that being said, yes, I do believe in a higher power. I also believe that mortal establishment organized in His name is given to antiquity, senseless adherence to traditions that are no longer necessary and is possessing of a clergy more prone to lip-service to serve their own interests rather than spreading His word.

[Breq makes a gesture as best she can with her arms full, acceding the point to Dorian. Her assumption, her mistake: he'd said 'a bit,' but she'd assumed 'a bit' in the way of the typical Radchaai citizen, willing to let the priests have their power.

Her first experience to teach her not to make assumptions in Riverview.]

Some might argue traditions are what keep us civilized. [She pauses then, and tilts her head.] 'Him?'

And others would counter they also restrict our growth. If, hypothetically speaking, the organized religion of your world identified a set of people born with a particular talent as dangerous and instituted an organization to take these identified individuals away from their families and lock them away because they are a danger to themselves and others, and raised them to believe in the eyes of their god, they were born with sin because of this power, would that be 'civilized'?

[He nods.] Him. The Maker. He created existence and all who dwell within it. I've heard some refer to him simply as "God". I believe this entity to be one and the same. Why? Do you not believe in a creator?

[Breq makes an ambivalent gesture, one that turns mostly into a shrug out of necessity.]

They would call... [And here she pauses for a moment, struggling internally with the pronoun. Eventually, she copies Dorian's use, choosing ease of the conversation over hunting for accuracy, for the moment.] Him... Amaat, where I am from. Amaat, to the Radchaai, is the Universe, from which all things emanate. He is one of many gods, but the first and most important to them.

If, hypothetically speaking, this group was exclusively monotheistic, they and all their doings would certainly be considered uncivilized. And a Radchaai would consider it without justice or propriety to lock those individuals-- were they citizens-- away, when reeducation would serve to make them productive, and properly Radchaai. Or, were they not citizens, when simply removing them would convey the most benefit.

[In the end, she's not entirely answering his question, but her tone is incredibly dry as she says it, her expression one not particularly impressed. It is, after all, the way of the Radch Empire, no matter how much, or little, she agrees with it.]

Pagans? [Like the Avvar worshipped many gods, at least as far as Dorian knew. Takes of the southern tribes were sparse to say the least, especially in civilized texts. Not that he was going to judge another culture. Perhaps their gods were real. The ancient Tevinter worshipped beings who existed, after all, in some form or another.

Besides, that was not the point of this discussion.]

Maker's breath, they sound like Qunari. [It's said with a side of salt, but also a sardonic chuckle.] Allow me to give you a bit of context. This group is capable of touching an manipulating the primal force of reality, wielding it as one would wield a sword. Magic. Those who cannot fear these "mages" because, as they say, unlike one who takes up the sword, it cannot simply be sheathed. The Maker proclaims, through his Prophet, "Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him". Most of the world takes this to mean that mages themselves should serve man, as we are unable to be separated from it, and that mages should never rule over anything. Born the only son of a landowner? Too bad, boy! You're a mage! You'll never see your family again, or if you do, it will be supervised, and you will never have any rights to lands or property.

[He shakes his head.]

The Qunari...have a different extreme, and sound much more like this Radchaai you mentioned. From your tone, you don't count yourself among them, though, and I did ask you what you thought.

Pagan? Not according to themselves.

[Breq is skeptical, and though it doesn't entirely show through in her expression, something about the flat way she says it carries her hesitation through.]

Magic... I can't say I know what you mean by that. Nor do I know of an equivalent. Some similar things, but not like that. [Family ties were too integral a part of society in the Radch for the military or any other entity to get away with that, and the non-citizens they stole would never be dragged away from their people without a proper re-education. Or without becoming an ancillary body.

But then there's the magic he mentions. She has a suspicion that he's not talking about it in the way of superstitions.

In the meantime, he's caught her out on her evasion. She nods, elaborates.]

I am what the Radch made me, but I'm not Radchaai. More plainly, to your point: humans are very good at finding something and someone to blame for the bad in the world. I don't like it, but it would be foolish not to know it will happen time and again.

Is anyone "Pagan" or "heretical" to themselves?

[He nods.] Aside from the sadness of a world not touched by the wonders of magic, perhaps it's simpler, though I assume your world has its own vices and virtues, troubles and roles to be played. You needn't have ours.

[He frowns slightly, but it's more out of curiosity than concern.]

And what is it the Radch have made you?

[Point again, Dorian. She gestures acquiescence.]

I'll face them here, if Riverview is as you've described it. What does magic do, in your world? And mages?

[The question is expected, but Breq still finds herself pausing, for the length of a single second. Considering how to phrase it. In the end, she affects a humorless smile, a wry quirk of her mouth as she speaks, her voice dry.]

They've made me the thorn in the tiger's paw.

[Thank you for noticing, Breq. Dorian has lots of good points, like little jewels.]

I...what does magic do? [He clears his throat because now is not the time to be sarcastic. She's asking in earnest, obviously.]

Magic is an energy that can be formed into anything a mage might imagine if they have the control for it. In relation, mages can manipulate that energy, as I just mentioned.

[He raises an eyebrow at that, interested.]

Oh, that sounds exciting. And what is this proverbial tiger...or literal one, as the case may be?

['Anything a mage might imagine.' It's terribly vague, and clearly a danger in the wrong hands, the wrong mind. She can see why Mages might become a group so easily feared. She can also see how treating them as subhuman could quickly create a pressure bomb needing only the slightest disturbance to explode.

As an ancillary, as a ship, she has no doubt it would have been her job to kill individuals like them as quickly as possible.]

Manipulating the flow of energy so neatly is the foundation of ridiculous dramas, in my experience.

[The corner of her mouth twitches again, the smile taking on a dagger's edge before dropping from her face.]

In proverb, it's a folk tale I heard once. [It had been a story the soldiers on that particular world had told to comfort themselves, in their fight against the Radchaai. Ultimately futile, but it had come to her now and again, in her twenty years of plotting to kill Anaander Mianaai.] More literally, the Radch itself. Calling it a great, lumbering beast isn't inaccurate.

[Technically more than that, but in a strange world, to a stranger, admitting regicide seems dangerous.]

Tigers are far from lumbering beasts. They're some of the most cunning hunters of the animal world. And majestic. Deadly but beautiful.

[He rolls his shoulder in a shrug.] At least so far as they've been described in fiction and depicted in art. Now- [He holds his acquired bundle of lanterns out to her.]

Would you mind holding these for a moment? Thank you. [He doesn't give her the option as he raises a hand, urging a bit of will to his fingertips and flame come to his call, lacing around his fingers delicately, and expertly avoiding his sleeves and any other flammable surface. He closes his fist a moment later, and the flame disappears.]

It isn't a ridiculous drama, here.

Great and deadly, then. [Adgectives aside, the story still holds true. And she never encountered one on that planet-- they were all sealed away, the last of their kind, somewhere on the planet she never got to see.

The sudden armful of lanterns has her taking a step back, but she quickly finds a way to balance them in her arms, quickly shuffling them into a neater pile as Dorian prepares his demonstration. It's an impressive one, she has to admit that much. The flames don't make her startle or gasp, but she leans in slightly to examine them, until Dorian makes them wink out of existence as quickly as they appeared in the first place.]

Clearly not. [The little demonstration hardly drew any attention from the crowd, as far as she can tell.] A clear demonstration. Thank you.

Edited 2018-06-03 19:43 (UTC)

[He smiles, clearly proud of himself. It doesn't take much, honestly.]

Oh, I can do far more than that. [And while he's at it, he doesn't seem too keen on taking those lanterns back, either.] Reanimate the dead, close wounds, freeze people in solid blocks of ice, set them aflame...as I said, the possibilities are endless.

Ah. [Breq's eyes sharpen, re-evaluating Dorian. His potential threat level may have just gone up, or maybe she's just dealing with the scope of magic being so broad. She at least doesn't draw away.] And what degree of control do those need?

[Probably an excuse for him to brag further, but also a good way for her to judge him, and get an idea of what the average mage might be capable of. Not to mention...] I can take some of the lanterns off of your hands, after your generous demonstration.

[Dorian actually wouldn't mind if his threat level rose. Mages and magic are dangerous, after all.]

Imagine...you had at your disposal all the rushing power of a whitewater river, and its unstoppable flow would come to your sole summons, but all you had to direct it was your force of will. That degree of control.

[He taps his chin thoughtfully.]

Or more depending on how much power one may bring to bear. Not all mages are created equal, after all.

[And he smiled at the latter.] Splendid! I suppose, somber at it is, joining in the festivities is best, yes?

[Honestly, it reminds her a little of a rogue ship. She can't help the thought, but she doesn't say it. And honestly, the comparison isn't a particularly good one, no matter what her initial feelings. Her attention lays heavily on him for another few moments before she breaks her stare, and nods.]

The sort of thing that's best experienced and not described, I'd assume.

[And then she takes the opportunity to divide the lanterns precisely in half (It takes her two seconds to count out twenty-two of the things and split the pile directly). With a polite incline of her head, she holds that bundle back out to Dorian.]

Thank you for the lanterns, and the time, Dorian.

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monthly mingle: MEMORIA

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time to get philosophical about pogroms

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