riverviewlogs | monthly mingle: MEMORIA

Entry tags:

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!

navigation

Threaded | Flat

Feel free to post up a top-level for residents of any floor in the apartment building to mingle and meet each other.

→ i. hanging lanterns ←

[Dorian isn't actually certain why one of the locals has decided he needed a bundle of lanterns to hand out to the wandering masses. He was only walking down to the market for grapes, wine, and cheese. Perhaps he was looking a little melancholy after Magnus' departure or...looked like someone who'd have a happy face, or a warm smile for someone to take a lantern from. As it stands, he frowns down at the bundle of unlit lanterns he's carrying rather than his targeted groceries, and he's not above stopping anyone who passes by to offer them one. The sooner he rids himself of them, the sooner he can have his wine at home. In peace. And think about all the people he's lost. Alone.

That wasn't the point of this holiday, was it?]

Pardon. [Ugh.] In light of the holiday, though it hardly feels it deserves the name. Holiday suggests something jolly doesn't it? [He shakes his head.] Take a lantern, would you?

[Please?]

→ ii. sharing life | Closed to Cullen ←

[Among the chatter regarding how this particular holiday was traditionally celebrated was treating friends to dinner, something Dorian could, most certainly, do. Especially when one such friend made it a point to simply...persist in that damned Barracks of his. The communal nature of the place was such that Dorian was able to stride right in, and he did so Thursday evening, dressed casually (for Dorian), after the scheduled end of Cullen's patrol.]

Commander, would you care to join me for dinner?

→ iii. floating of the lanterns ←

a. for a friend he should have seen off | ota

[For all his desire to avoid all the memorial this holiday was seemingly trying to force on everyone, and for all he wanted nothing but to ignore it, after being handed lanterns earlier in the week, he'd kept two, because there was a man who'd been a stalwart companion and ally wars and averting apocalypse had never allowed him to properly send off. He joined the other residents at the riverside, where he didn't anticipate privacy, but there was at least the minor chance his remembrance would be lost in the sea of others being sent off down the river to floating into the sky.

The mage wasn't an artist, and had never been gifted with words keen for the expressing of emotion, but, in his neat script, using a charcoal pencil with a thick tip, he wrote neatly across the side of the lantern the simple sentiment, "You always were the best of us. Vitae benefaria." His smile is slightly sad as he expands the lantern, but hesitates when it comes to actually heading toward the river. Why did this feel so much like letting go?]

b. and for a father he never forgave | closed to Iona

[Letting go of Felix's lantern was even worse than he'd anticipated, but the second lantern he'd brought, devoid of inscription for several moments after staring at its side panel, was meant for someone else. There were so many things roiling in his head, in his chest, so many arguments, so many days spent wondering if today would be the day he would tell Dorian he was proud, the day Dorian would hear that his choices didn't matter, that he was his son, that he loved him-

-but that day had never came. Instead, a token appointment and a brief meeting had sent him back to the South, to his friends to be sure, but also, apparently to safety. Then a letter, a congratulatory letter at that, regretting a death and welcoming him to the seat that death had vacated.]

Why didn't you tell me?

[And it was asked of a lantern. How foolish was this evening? So wrapped up in his own mind was he that he didn't notice the whisper quiet elven maiden approach...]

→ v. Wildcard ←

[Have something you want to thread out? Hit me up on plurk @ vikael or drop me a PM on Dorian's journal.]

Edited 2018-05-03 01:46 (UTC)

iii;

( back home, there was never much time for mourning periods. still, billy had his chance to--try and cope with some of the losses he’s been through. his own version of coping was far from healthy (closing himself off for months, refusing to so much as speak to anyone) but he. had that time, at least. to try. here there is nothing but time, and the locals seem to think this helps, so he takes advantage of the lanterns.

carries three of them down to the river after the sun has already gone down and most the crowd has dispersed to find his own little secluded corner. they're all duller colors; one in red, yellow, and green. the writing's written inside the lanterns themselves, small and near-ineligible. billy doesn't take the time to look them over, either; he lets them each go individually into the river and sits himself down onto his knees once they're on their way to watch them go. )

iv.

a) ( the illness doesn't hit billy until close to the middle of the month. it--doesn't seem all that bad at first, and he tries not to let it get to him. it still shows on his face: the darker bags under his eyes, how much more pale his skin looks than normal, the slouch to his stance that not even the slightest effort is made to try and mask it. billy keeps to his shift at the perimeter guard still, pulls his (shorter) cloak up over his mouth and nose to keep germs from spreading to anyone else. every few steps alongside the perimeter of the city he--stops in place, rests a hand against the wall, takes a moment to breathe.

the easy cheats billy would usually use magic for, he doesn't. instead of teleporting, billy walks the distance to where he needs to get to. he doesn't fly up to see just that much further, but keeps to the ground. wasting energy when he's already short on it is a bad idea, especially when he already can't keep his feet straight on the ground. and every few missteps hoarse, low grumbles can be heard from under the cloak. a soft i didn't even do anything, this sucks, i can't believe this. )

b) ( if only bitching and moaning would actually help. but it doesn't, and he only gets worse with time. a few days of stubbornly refusing to let it get him down only leaves billy even more exhausted stumbling around inside city walls because staying home isn't going to get him anywhere, either. he keeps close to the sides of buildings, presses a hand against them to help keep his balance and raises the other arm to shove his mouth into an elbow every time he gives gross, wet coughs.

his voice is hoarse, cracked and broken--still audible though, and anyone who (why would you) gets close enough to catch his voice will hear the soft, murmured: ) I want to get better, I want to get better, ( there's an underlying power to his words, each syllable etched with it's own power even if they don't seem to be having any effect on him.

sadly, billy's magic just doesn't quite work that way. )

[iv: part one: open to all]

[Bucky has seen the sickness spreading through the city and it scares him; not for himself, he's fairly sure that the serum makes him immune to pretty much every disease, but for everyone else. This place isn't big and it's contained, any sort of disease will spread like wildfire.

Because he's so sure that he's immune to anything going around, Bucky takes it on himself to go out into the streets and look for the sick. He looks tense, not used to actively seeking out company, but his voice is still low and almost gentle if he finds anyone that doesn't look well.]

Hey. You okay?

[iv: part two: open to all]

[So that surety he'd had that he would be immune to the sickness... that turned out to be totally unfounded. It had started with some aches and pains that he had promptly ignored, and evolved into a full blown fever that not even a super soldier can ignore.

The world is spinning and swaying in a dizzying manner, and he doesn't recognise this street even though he's fairly sure that he should. He's weaving all over the path in a way that makes him look drunk, and eventually he shoulder-checks the side of a building and sinks down to the sidewalk with a small sigh.

This isn't good.]

stage i;

[Sam's been trading goodies during Memoria, handing out baked goods, accepting them from total strangers, so he's not totally surprised when he starts coming down with something around of the end of the first week of the month. He quite sensibly calls in sick to work, texting to reschedule his clients, and bundles up on the couch with blankets and Netflix and mice bringing him fresh mugs of tea regularly. He's not totally ignoring the rest of the world; he knows he's missing plans with other people, and so he at least has the courtesy to text them and tell them he's sick.

Because that won't make anyone worry at all.]

stage ii;

[After a good four days of running a fever, Sam makes his shaky way to the hospital. The mice keep telling him that it's not like any illness they've smelled before, but Sam's pretty sure it's just the flu, and since when can mice smell sickness? The pair he's pretty sure are the head of his personal cult ride along with him in the bag with a change of clothes. They're also the ones who sit on his bedside table and eat grapes while Sam dozes fretfully. Depending on when you drop by, there may or may not be a stubborn sorcerer who won't eat or sleep, a Lillipup, and/or a black lab puppy in the room and/or bed, too.]

i

[Victor of course accepts the lanterns when offered. A lot of cultures honor the dead and lost with lights, so he has no problem getting behind this tradition. He's gotten a few to hang around his house in honor of his family and the lost crewmen of the Enterprise. The rest he'll hang up or offer to someone else if they'd like to put them near their house]

iii

[When it is time to participate in this, again Victor has with him lanterns to honor his family. He's tried to reflect his parents and Gerhardt in their lanterns as much as possible and wrote out a few things. Gerhardt's lantern has the most notes in it. He has them for Graham and Neal, too. He sends them all off without much fanfare]

iv, part a

[The moment people started getting sick, Victor hit the ground running, so to speak. He started carrying a med kit everywhere so he could try helping those he came across. If they needed to get to the hospital, he would help with that, too. He tries to keep notes of the symptoms and how each patient is feeling as he treats them.

At the hospital, he tries to focus on patients as they come in and check on them frequently. He's a busy guy, but he seems determined to do all he can to help]

iv, part b

[Victor doesn't actually know for sure who he contracted the sickness from, as he's been working with everyone the moment they start showing symptoms. But after a while he can't pretend anymore that he's not also a victim of whatever is going around.

But since he's ill already, he's just going to keep treating people for as long as possible. Or until he gets so bad he can't any longer. Or until someone stops him. Whichever comes first]

Edited 2018-05-04 00:03 (UTC)

ii — sharing life

[ Genji is always open to hearing about other people's experiences. And goodness knows he's had friends help him with things the past couple months, so it definitely feels like it's time to repay some of that.

He's settled on a blanket in the park with a pot of cinnamon tea in front of him. He's not wearing any of his armor considering he's hardly friendly looking with his entire face covered. To anyone that approaches him, he'll look up and smile with crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

He'll gesture to the tea. ]

Shall we have a chat then, friend?

iii — floating of the lanterns

[ He remembers this from last year; so much has happened since then. His brother was here and they spoke of Mother... there are still a great many people Genji misses, in more ways than one.

He sets free two lanterns for his parents, like last year. Father and Mother. Simple 'I miss you' written on them. Because he does, no mater what kind of relationship he had with them. Maybe he misses and longs for what could have, should have been. He sets out two others for the Strike-Commander and Captain Amari. He says a small prayer for his brother, his master and his former Commander wherever they all might be.

If someone approaches him, he'll look up and nod to them with a somber little smile. ]

You may sit here, if you wish. I am just about done.

iv — down with the sickness

[ Now Genji assumes as others might, that he's reasonable immune to this illness. Between his helmet and cybernetic enhancements, biotic nano-tech going throughout his body, surely he'll be able to fight it off? Well, that remains to be seen.

In the meantime, Genji is assisting people around the Quarantine who are ill. Be in bringing them emergency medical care, physically helping them to the hospital or a sick tent, or finding people who had already fallen into a coma and getting them to safety.

If you are one of those sick individuals, a certain green cyborg ninja dude might find you. The green light on his visor is bright, but his voice is as soft as his damaged vocal cords can make it. ]

Are you ill? Do you require help?

( feel free to hit me up on pm or at

bonethief if you'd like to do anything specific! )

[ iii. floating of the lanterns.

Finn is reminded, strangely, of the way he'd felt in those first few days he spent in the city-- of standing by a bonfire with a blank piece of paper in his hand, something he was meant to write out losses on, things he wanted to let go. He never could think of the words. Just folded it up and let it burn the way it was. Pushed off thinking. Set his eyes forward.

The longer he's here, the harder it gets to keep resetting that way.

He's starting to realize he doesn't know how to do this, once he's observed the bulk of the festivities. How it's supposed to work. Mourning. It's easy to think about obvious things first, from where he's standing, to think about certain people-- about whole planets blown out of the sky, or Han Solo, or Resistance shuttles getting picked off with good people inside of them.

Then he thinks about Slip. He always does, when it comes to things like this.

Stormtroopers don't get funerals. He's killed more than a few since he defected. He'll kill more before the war is close to over. They'll get left where they fall. If things hadn't changed, if he hadn't changed, he wouldn't even question why it mattered.

Anyone in their galaxy, he would understand them not mourning the loss of a soldier who was trying to shoot them on command. He can't hold that against them.

But the army that raises those soldiers. No names, no families, no choice, at least give them something in the end.

It doesn't seem fair.

The lantern Finn picks is simple, not particularly big. All straight edges and stark white paper. It stays blank for a long time. He really isn't sure how to do this. It doesn't feel right to leave it empty. After a while, he steels himself to do what he normally does when he's out of his depth and not sure he can do something on his own.

He starts asking for help.

Finn is gonna be on the prowl with his (hopefully increasingly cluttered-looking) lantern and a handful of different colored pens. He'll approach anyone who doesn't seem to be preoccupied or unwilling to brook company. The mood of the day is: intense, yet sincere. ]

Can I ask you a favor?

[ v. wildcard.

For other miscellaneous options. Finn will technically be around some of the story-sharing parties, but he wouldn't be in any kind of a telling mood, so it seemed moot to make an opener for that. I'm up for planning out whatever and willing to write closed starters! hmu at

comatoseroses or by PM! ]

iii. floating of the lanterns

[ Akira has found himself around those who are hanging their lanterns. He looks from lantern to lantern. The phrases that are scrawled across the lanterns causes a sad frown to show. There's not much he knows about Riverview in retrospect, and that is something he needs to fix. Maybe that's why he's sitting back and watching how everyone handles this festival. There is reverence then there are those that are really just use it as an excuse to party.

He sighs and pushes his fake glasses up his nose. ]

Memoria, huh...

iv. down with the sickness

[ Murmurs of the illness have gotten far into the Quarintine by the time Akira sees it himself. Being unable to turn a blind eye to people suffering, he made the mistake of helping someone that had collapsed on the street. After helping them, though, he's felt under the weather himself. Blurry vision from time to time, dizziness, a pounding in his head.

It should pass sooner or later.

At that moment he sits outside the Community Housing, thumbing through his phone as he leans against the wall to try and keep up right. ]

Edited 2018-05-04 03:57 (UTC)

i.Floating Lanterns
[Memoria marks Thor's first anniversary in Riverview, and although he's stayed here for 365 days, he can feel the change in him. His loss over the past year has changed his approach to the festival. He's more reserved and solemn, he doesn't force a warm smile. He loiters at the back of crowds and doesn't participate much in food sharing or lantern hanging.

He does, however, participate in the floating of lanterns. His lanterns are obviously handmade, maybe lacking the finesse of some of the custom created ones. He also holds several, one for his parents, one for the warriors three and one for the soldiers and residents of Asgard who fell at Hela's feet.

His expression is grave, he lights each candle and sets the lanterns down carefully. His hands fold over his front and he bows his head, murmuring a passage.]

Lo, There do I see the line of my people back to the beginning. They bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla. Where thine enemies have been vanquished, there the brave shall live forever.

[He looks up. His eyes are wet, but his voice is perfectly steady. He's already held a ceremonial funeral, but he won't miss the chance to pay his respects again.]

We shall mourn but rejoice for those that have died the glorious death.

[He'll linger before he moves to leave the river.]

ii. down with the sickness
[When Thor wakes up a few days later, he feels off. He's not sure how else to describe it. He's never had a common cold or a flu, he has nothing to compare the scratchy throat and headache to.

He pulls himself out of bed, gets dressed and goes about his day. His life is very routine, lately. He takes the dog for a walk, gets a coffee, he goes to the gym, he gets groceries and he usually starts work later in the evening. He whistles for Qiri and sets out to go for a walk around town.

Apart from the occasional sniffle, he seems alright. By the end of his walk, he feels a little cold. He's wearing a scarf over a thin T-shirt and shorts. It doesn't feel appropriate to wear more when he's sweating this much.

Thor makes it to the cafe and orders a coffee. Everything is fine. He's not a little wall eyed, he doesn't need to shake his head to try shake off the cloudy feeling and he certainly doesn't miss the fact that the barista has been yelling for his attention all this time.

Thor takes the coffee and leaves the cafe, disorientated and almost unsure about where he's headed. He lifts the cup to his lip but he hesitates, he feels something coming. It's coming. He can't stop it.

He sneezes, loud and thunderous. He spills his coffee over his front and grunts, he seems to be in a state of shock and completely unsure as to what he should be doing. He looks down at Qiri, who looks as surprised as he does and shrugs.]

Your guess is as good as mine.

Edited 2018-05-05 05:08 (UTC)

i + ii HEY LIL THING LEMME LIGHT YA CANDLE

[Even though the customs of this place are still new to Val, still a different thing to learn each month, the concept of Memoria is once she finds herself understanding all too well. A remembrance...even if she's spent a thousand years and then some remembering her fallen sisters, spent these last five months remembering the loss of Asgard, she's never felt like she could truly move on, truly pay them enough tribute. So when she's given a lantern by the clerk at the liquor store on the way home, she takes it with little fuss, and goes home—to the house she shares with Thor and Kara—to hang it by the front door. She knows the other two will more than understand, having experienced the same or similar losses. Then she hesitates at the door; she'd intended to go inside and have a drink alone, but somehow she can't quite bring herself to go in. So she turns back out to face the dusk, eyeing the other lanterns beginning to light up the street, and instead goes for a stroll.

Eventually, she ends up down by the banks of the river, stretched out on a grassy knoll with her boots kicked off and her bottle in hand. She's noticed the people gathering in groups everywhere, caught snatches of stories and conversations, and although she's not opposed to a little emotional outpouring, she's not quite the kind to do it with a group of strangers. Instead, if anyone she knows should happen by, she might be open to a little mutual storytelling.]

floating of the lanterns

[A year ago, a flask come through the portal with a lifetime of memories held within it, and Taako spent this holiday mourning Lup for the first time again in a decade. He hadn't known then, how things would resolve themselves and he'd been terrified that Lup was gone forever. It's hard to forget how rough those first few days were, and how much Clark did for him during that time. The whole thing leaves him feeling nostalgic, something that isn't helped by Magnus's recent departure.

It makes him a little more willing to indulge in things like mourning, for all his complaints about this particular holiday, though he's still fairly private about collecting lanterns and getting them ready.

Taako sits on the shore in a red robe, a comforting item, with a handful of lanterns set in front of him. He doesn't bother with words, he doesn't really see the point, but he uses a little magic to decorate each one that he's planning to let loose. The first is the least painful, a blue lantern with a familiar red shield. If Clark isn't here to send a lantern for Krypton, Taako can do one in his place. He understands what it's like to lose a world. The next lantern is... more difficult. Rin left the Quarantine safely, but Taako doesn't know what his fate will be back home, not with Pharolin out there, and he felt caught by the urge to do something. So there's a black lantern that he enchants to glow with fluorescence, rather than lighting a candle within it. If he says anything when he releases it, the words are closer to good luck than anything truly mourning.

The final lantern is more plain; Taako didn't know Julia well but he knows that Magnus is returning to Fearun to love her and lose her and one day Taako and Merle are going to kill the man who took her from Magnus. For now, though, the least he can do is release a lantern for her. And maybe part of it is dealing with the fact Magnus is gone, from here, but Taako isn't likely to admit that.

He isn't opposed to company while he weaves spells over the lanterns, if only because at least this time he isn't crying.]

wildcard

[[im open to other shit im just lazy, hmu if u want something]]

iii. floating of the lanterns

Ronan carried three very different lanterns. One was bright and patterned with the flowers his mothers liked most. Another was simple and faded except for one side which was full of the most bright, clashing colors he could think of since Noah hadn’t always been so subdued. The other had no color and every color all at once. The only description one could give with any certainty was it shimmered. Only a dream would suit his father.

He’d barely written on any of them. There was no point in expressing his grief. If this ceremony was for the living, Ronan didn't see it like that. He owed them something, even if it was a couple hours of his life spent just remembering them.

“So long,” he said as set the lanterns into the river.

iv. down with the sickness

Ronan felt fine when he went to work. But by the end of the day, when he wiped the sweat off his face, he felt more replace it. Walking back to his car, he started to feel faint. He was still in the city when he was overcome by a wave of dizziness and had to pull over.

He opened the car door and stepped out. The fresh air proved to be less of a relief than he hoped. He shivered. Wrapping his arms around himself, he leaned against his BMW and closed his eyes.

“Fuck.” He rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

[i. HANGING LANTERNS]

[ Ever curious to explore and see new things, Fandral has, of course, wasted no time following his arrival in setting out to the city. He finds it quite enchanting, really. The hanging lanterns create a dazzling spectacle, and he finds himself stopping to admire them more than once as he walks. Before long, he falls into conversation with someone nearby about what the lights are meant for, and soon after receiving his own lantern to hang he's offering to help those who might not have any room within their reach. A little boost or a gentle lift is all it takes. Don't be afraid to ask for his help! ]

[ii. SHARING LIFE]

[ Fandral is always ready to listen to a good tale or story. It's by accident that he comes into this particular circle. Having paused to listen, he was given a cup and a space to sit, and he knows well enough that those are two things a man should never decline. And it's interesting, isn't it? Listening to these people from worlds he's yet heard of or been to. Fandral has scarcely been here long and already he's endeared by the place and the people.

When the circle of story telling finally gets to him, he pauses, and simply laughs. ]

I couldn't possibly decide where to begin.

[iii. FLOATING LANTERNS]

[ He wonders if he should be here. Of course, living the warrior's life, he's experienced the loss of friends on a large scale, but he doesn't mourn them. He knows they've gone to better places, to their seats in Valhalla, and he worries that perhaps such happier thoughts might intrude on the solemnity of the tradition.

All the same, he's been given a lantern. In the nature of being a good sport, Fandral covers the shade of his in runes, celebrating the feats and glory of those who came before him. ]

[v. WILDCARD]

Choose your own adventure or hit me up at

fritzwinky.

i - Hanging Lanterns -
It wasn't as if Richard had gone looking for an argument. He'd already clearly stated that he didn't look for them. It was the fact that these people, these delusionally created 'natives' were pushy. He'd already reasonably declined to assist in their mourning of the dead, already told them in no uncertain terms that he had no interest in discussing those who had died and wouldn't assist in passing out their ridiculous lanterns that perpetuated a belief that could never be real and had no scientific basis that it ever could be; the idea that they would like one's own doorway notwithstanding.

Still, they pushed, claiming that it would heal his troubled soul. No, some stupid tradition would not heal his soul.

To be fair, it wasn't that Richard had anything against the memoria; everyone mourned in their own way, and traditions were the comfort of the masses. That didn't mean he had to take part in it or wanted to. So as they became more instants, blocking off his exit path, he began to snap at them. His composure and calm starting to crack.

iv - Down with the sickness -
He hadn't been feeling the best since arriving. It was both colder and warmer then he expected, and he felt as though his strength was failing, sometimes. Other times he felt fine, just a bit of a headache. He wasn't completely sure what was going on, why he suddenly felt as if he were coming down with a cold or the flu, but at the moment, he was starting to have another moment of feeling dizzy, so he leaned on the outside of a building to wait it out.

"I'm sure there's a logical reason for this." It was his own blanket, though he wouldn't admit to it. Logic could explain anything. Logic could explain having a cold in a clear delusion. It was probably Alex's fault. Her belief that all this was real. That was probably what was causing real effects on him.

v -Wildcard-

Edited 2018-05-06 21:47 (UTC)

iii(a)

[The hospitals here do good work, but healing still takes time, which means Breq is still easing her way into working with the Perimeter Guard. A benefit to her time stuck recuperating, though-- she's had time to get a lantern shoved into her hands and learn of the traditions invoked before tonight. Stuck with a few days and not much energy to move, she'd actually started to decorate it.

She's questioning her choices, even as she stands here on the banks, the lantern held in both hands. This isn't her tradition, and it certainly isn't Awn's. Would anyone thank her for this memorial? But then she thinks of a shrine filled with gifts, and incense, and a cheap, machine-made memorial pin, and when the people around her begin to light their lanterns and set them into the water, she does the same with hers-- a simple one, but inked with eight symbols, and the lines of a poem.

As she straightens and watches the lantern begin to float away, she starts humming under her breath, raspy and fighting to stay on pitch,] my heart is a fish, hiding in the water-grass, in the green, in the green.

iii(b)

[The lanterns are a beautiful sight, Breq can admit that much. Beautiful, and striking, to see the lights float their way downstream. Only a little more debris to add to the remains of the flooding still working their way down to the ocean.

It's only when the wave of lanterns has gone past that Breq begins to move again, but standing still so long has left her hip aching. Her first step away sends a crawling ache all down her thigh, sudden and unpleasant. She stumbles, bumping her shoulder hard into the nearest person before she can catch her balance.]

My apologies.

[Breq immediately turns toward the person, bringing up a hand to set the stranger straight if needed. Belatedly, she tempers her expression into an apologetic look, completely unaware of the wet tracks still working their way down her cheeks.]

v- wildcard
(If you have a different starter you'd like to use, go for it!)

a. hanging lanterns

[This holiday doesn't seem to be for Eames. He avoids the candy (the lanterns, the talks) whenever he can. He doesn't feel loss as keenly as others, and when he does feel it, he'd rather ignore it than deal with it. But that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it for the lovely sentiment it is.

He's sitting on a bench outside with a lantern in his hands that he just couldn't refuse this time, staring down at it in thought.] Bloody lantern, [he eventually says with a sigh.]

b. down with the sickness

[It's toward the end of May when Eames actually gets sick, which is awful with communal housing. He doesn't quarantine himself exactly, because of it, and spends a lot of time in a library, just sitting at a table and sketching things between sniffles. At the moment, it's more like him scratching remarks onto his paper like 'Heaven is where tissues are never needed' and 'Ughhhhh'.]

c. down with the sickness

[When he's not there, he's lying in bed, holding his stomach, on floor 1. He wipes at his nose with a kleenex, then reaches out his arm to let it flop into the overloaded trash can beside him. It's not just tissues!! But there are a lot of tissues, he'll admit. Maybe he should be responsible for himself and clean up around his bed. Maybe his stomach should be responsible and stop being queasy.

Eames reaches for the glass of water beside his bed, bringing it up so he can sip at it-

And completely misses his mouth, making a sad noise when he gets his shirt wet. This is getting stupid.]

i. hanging lanterns

[This is something he will participate in without hesitation. With his height, he can easily reach the trees and other high places to hang lanterns around the area, but this time, it isn't just about assisting others with their needs. He has a few memories of his own to hang with them, people to remember. There are a few lights that he carries for friends back home, and he thinks back to each of them as he hangs lanterns in their honor.]

ii. floating of the lanterns

[Wing takes part in this as well, carrying a few lanterns with him, fewer than the ones he'd hung around the city in memory of the people he knew. There aren't really any writing utensils that he trusts himself to hold to be able to write his feelings down on their sides in words so small, so he'll keep his thoughts and emotions in mind as he sets the lights adrift and crouches there at the edge of the river bank, watching them float away, just a few to join the dozens of others that have already been set on their course.]

Edited 2018-05-07 04:01 (UTC)

SHARING LIFE

[The Nexus doesn't have rituals for the dead and lost quite like this. Even for their gods. They cremate the dead, then toss the ashes off the highest building they can get access to. There are a few buildings built specifically for this purpose, stretching high into the sky. Some words are said about how their cycle will continue, how their Nature will find another body out in the universe, how a new god will come, and people cry and that's that.

There are no gravestones. No lanterns. No urns. There's just what people leave behind, and sometimes there's none of that either.

The Destroyer -- Amadi was his original name, Amadi was the name they didn't let him die with -- didn't leave anything behind. He'd come to the Nexus with nothing to show for himself but his Nature, and he left it all the same. He was well loved. All the gods were. Many people cried for him, the Tetherer among them. But the Tetherer is the only one who knows just how awful and ironic it was that he died in the way that he did.

They sit, and they're quiet, as others share their stories. They always did love hearing the stories of life on other worlds, though they prefer myths and fairy tales to stories of loss.

And then it's their turn. They take some time to gather their thoughts, for a moment. They haven't been in the Quarantine long. But they clear their throat, and avert their gaze from others as they begin.]

The person I miss most -- he was a mentor to me. I still think about things he said, the... worries he had. Secrets he shared. Now they're my secrets, too. But they're safe to tell, here.

[Here, and far from the Nexus, where a god expressing such things would be blasphemous.]

WORKING

[The Tetherer is... starting to get the hang of their job.

Okay, no, they're really not. There's so much to remember. They remember details of countless worlds, important figures, important dates. They cannot for the life of them remember the steps to a mochaccino. There are a lot of themes, they find, in this establishment. Mocha is one that confounds them -- they always thought it was a color, but now it's a taste? -- and "ccino" is at the end of every other drink. What does that even indicate about the flavor? There seems to be no logic to this.

They are very slow with preparing orders, but their boss is patient with them, which is a blessing. It helps that they're very good at talking to the customers. Chalk that up to years of saying the right things to queens and emperors and false gods.

But they greet their newest customer with an infectious smile, having to lean up over the counter to counteract their small stature, and pleasantly offer to take an order.]

What are you in the mood for? The honey lavender, I've found, is perfect for spring.

ROOMMATES

[They're aware there's some sort of sickness going around. Maybe the last vestiges of winter's clutches still have something of a hold on this moon. They're also very aware that they now live in close quarters with eight other people on floor 12, and working with plenty of customers each day, so they're a little worried.

The Tetherer can't simply keep to themself, though. They're a little too used to being involved in others' lives, privacy a rare occurrence, even though they did have their own quarters in the Nexus' Tower of Natures.

They're up bright and early on their day off, enjoying part-time life as that woman had recommended, and currently have a spread of various bowls on the dining room table, each filled with a completely different cereal. They went and bought many different brands, in hot pursuit of gaining a favorite of something they've never experienced.

Each cereal brand has a bowl with and a bowl without milk, for proper A-B testing.

They take one spoonful at a time, taking the time to really savor the flavor and figure out what they think of it. They seem deep in thought as they chew some form of something with brightly colored marshmallows, and when they swallow, they seem full of wonder as they comment to themself,]

It's almost like you can taste the preservatives. Incredible.

WILDCARD

[I can be found at

erlking! Plot at me! Or just throw spaghetti at me and see if I catch it!]

ii. sharing life
[Don't mind half the sixth floor kitchen being taken over. There are cookies in the oven and Wanda's finishing up a second batch of dough, chocolate chip by the look of it. Not the most Sokovian cookie, but still something Pietro had always liked.

Then again, Pietro had never met a dessert he hated.

If someone comes to investigate the smell, Wanda will manage a small smile as she works.]

The first cookies should be out soon if you want to try some.

[That's how this festival works, right? Besides, Wanda certainly can't eat them all by herself.]

iii. floating of the lanterns
[It had been terribly hard to release Pietro's lantern the first night, and in the ceremonies each following week, it only gets marginally easier. The red lanterns have less writing each week, but Pietro's is always completely covered in cramped writing. There's so much she still wants to tell him, and as the weeks go by she's never sure if this is helping.

From the second time on, Wanda develops a kind of ritual: she sings a soft song in Sokovian before finally releasing the blue lantern, sitting back on her heels to watch it disappear from view.

Thank goodness for the dim lighting. Maybe, if she's lucky, she can get out of here without someone noticing she's been crying.]

wildcard!
[Want something else? hmu via PM or

dontyousonicme!]

Hospital/Around - Week two and onward.

[Shuri doesn't dislike parties and festivals but there is work to be done and her work keeps her fairly distracted. So distracted that she almost doesn't notice the sickness that's sweeping over the city.

Almost.

One by one, her friends develop fevers or have other alarming signs of illness. A lot of the machines she had developed in Wakanda were used in the medical field but she had none of them with her now. Armed with the comm-links and programs in her bracelet and a 64bit tablet, Shuri makes her way through the city to look for a cure.

She's careful, keeping a distance from those who are infected while trying to use an algorithm to trace back the source of the sickness. She needs more data and risks getting sick in an attempt to find it.

Eventually, Shuri ends up at the hospital. She offers to use the data she's collected to retrofit some of the machinery to be more useful against this virus but she hasn't been able to find a cure. It attacks everyone differently, mutates and then continues to spread. She has ways to combat the symptoms but it isn't enough.

She hates feeling useless and by the end of the second week she ends up sacrificing sleep and her own help in search for an answer.

By the end of the month, Shuri has her own room in the hospital. She had contracted the same illness that she'd been working tirelessly to fight and she isn't waking up.]

[ooc: For the last four or five days of the month, Shuri will be in a coma; she got sick and didn't realize it in time to help herself. If you want something else with Shuri please let me know. I'm down with doing any of the prompts and I can write a starter if you'd like. Feel free to PM this journal or hit me up on plurk

mizuyoko.]

Edited 2018-05-07 16:30 (UTC)

I; Lantern Hanging

[ So along with everyone else Shigeru will be helping out with hanging the many lanterns throughout the day. He's even enlisted the help of a few flying friends which spring to life from his sketch pad as he draws them to life to hang lanterns higher up in the trees. Still he has way too many that he has no idea what to do with so he might offer anyone nearby some should they be found empty handed. ]

W-Would you, um, like to take a few. They gave me a bit too many so I just figured sharing them would be best. [ Please take some he's dying. ]

III; Floating away

[ Shigeru remembers this all too well. It was a year ago that he was at the same riverbank letting go a few lanterns with his thoughts and feelings about people at home. But now he has more to write with Genji, Hana, and several others that he's formed relationships with here. He can be found in a more secluded spot writing a rather long list of things for Genji with a very warm and happy expression on his face as he does so. Ah. He really wants to go see him but maybe after this he will. Still he's pretty into his work so hopefully you're not thinking of sneaking up on him as he easy to startle these days. ]

iv; Did somebody call a doctor?

[ Whether the symptoms just started or have been going on for awhile Shigeru will be at the hospital working overtime the next few weeks as this mysterious illness overtakes the Quarantine. He'll be at the hospital for looking over anyone who has been showing symptoms just to make sure they're doing alright and not getting worse. ]

Are you feeling alright? Is there anything you need, just tell me.

Wildcard;

[ Totally open for plotting should anyone want to do a thing! ]

i. hanging lanterns.

[people keep... giving him lanterns. he manages to refuse some of them - politely - but when the whole festival first starts happening, it leaves cassian feeling very uncomfortable. they are lanterns for the dead; he is the dead. does that mean someone should be making one for him? memoria. like the way rogue one is memorialized in their deaths.]

[he listens on the outside sometimes of some of the locals telling their stories, mostly to tell himself it's to get a better sense of these people and this place. the reality is maybe he just... wonders how people deal with their grief and death. it's not something he's tackled head on much. he doesn't really know how to mourn properly, on account he's never really gotten the chance. he never wanted to try.]

[there's a lot about this that's making him very emotionally uncomfortable. not only does he think about the people he misses, but he thinks about the people he's killed. he didn't even always know their names. their failies probably mourned them. catch him sulking and brooding off on the sidelines, very stiff and still.]

[sometimes he just doesn't want any of this lantern business, so he holds them out towards the nearest person. if you don't take them, they're gonna fall! what a tragedy pls stop it!] Here. All yours.

ii. floating lanterns.

[he doesn't want to write any of his feelings on the lantern. cassian has a hard enough time dealing with them internally and too much experience tucking them away to feel safe baring his soul, so to speak, on a lantern that's going to float away who knows where.]

[he does write names though. on a grayish lantern, he draws the symbol of the rebellion and writes K-2SO. on a blue one, he draws little stars in red and yellow, this time with the names Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus. a red one, Bodhi Rook, with the bravest pilot scrawled hastily underneath.]

[on two white lanterns, he writes his parents' names. he wonders again if he should write his own name, but what would he even want to tell himself? that's a little too much self reflection. part of him feels silly sitting here quietly under a tree near the river with so many lanterns, but he's been so unhappy about mortality thanks to this stupid holiday that anything feels worth a try. maybe it'll be as cathartic as everyone says.]

iii. down with the sickness.

[jyn gets sick first. it's a strange position to be in, that of a caregiver. he knows how to keep himself alive in battle, undercover, but illness is another area entirely. he feels a little out of his element.]

[a few days into it, he's perusing a grocery store and stockpiling ingredients in his basket for what's clearly soup. or several kinds of soup. that's what's on the menu, for jyn and maybe if any other of his friends are falling ill too. only when he finds himself prodding at some of the spices, cassian is suddenly hit with a heavy wave of dizziness.]

[it startles him and he grabs the shelf to keep his balance. after a few moments he presses his fingers to his forehead and finds his skin has gotten very warm. his throat has been a little scratchy all day, but he's been ignoring it like he's always done when it comes to vaguely sick symptoms. but he's finding that quite suddenly he's having a hard time keeping upright. this is definitely jyn's fault.]

iv. wildcard.

[ hit me up ! come visit him being a sick grumpy lump. ]

Edited 2018-05-08 02:13 (UTC)

i. hanging lanterns

[Ciel had been minding his own business, avoiding this months celebration after spending time as a child thanks to the flower festival. As he made his way to the cafe though, he found himself being approached by another business owner and ended up with an armful of small lanterns.

One, ended up outside the door of the cafe, of course, the others he'll be seeing who he runs into that might want to take one or two (or all of them) off his hands.]

ii. sharing life

[He knows what he's supposed to do, he knows some people have seen his... less savory memories. Ciel just isn't sure he can really bring himself to share the whole story about how the frightened, sickly, child some had encountered the month before turned into a much harder, sometimes cruel, teenager.]

I... don't think I can do this...

iii. floating of the lanterns

[Ciel has four lanterns with him. On one he's written: "Rachel Phantomhive, mother" and the one next to it "Vincent Phantomhive, father" even if his father is here in Riverview with him now. Their lanterns match, of course, with near sapphire colored paper forming them. The next is a much brighter blue, like his good eye, it's only marked with "Brother." And the last is a brilliant red with "Aunt An" written on it.

He isn't very creative, nor is he very good at expressing himself, so that's all he puts on any of them before they're ready to go.]

v. wildcard

[feel free to do whatever or hit me up on

lenneths_wings]

H a n g i n g 🏮 L a n t e r n s ( OTA )

[ When the first lantern is placed in Blue's hands, she's not quite sure what to do with it. Part of her wants to join in the festivities and go decorate one of the many lantern-less trees that she's passed by, while another part of her wants to keep the lantern and hang it up in her bedroom -- it's been looking more than a little bare these past few weeks, she's really been slacking a bit.

But, after quite enough time looking over the paper contraption in her hand, Blue opts to search for a less-than-decorated tree, her attention focused on exactly how the lantern in her hand had been put together.

(Truth be told, she's trying to figure in her head how to make one herself.)

Perhaps you see her standing on the very tips of her toes trying to hang her lantern from the highest possible branch, or maybe you come across the small eccentric teenager still searching for just the perfect spot, or you just might be one of the unfortunate ones that she walks directly into while her attention is focused elsewhere. ]

F i l l i n g 🍰 U p 🍰 O n 🍰 S n a c k s ( OTA )

[ According to Blue Sargent, the best part of any festival has got to be the copious amounts of food. Some of them are things that Blue recognizes -- whether from her own homeworld, or from this new world she's in now. -- but even the things that she doesn't recognize still look as delicious as ever.

She's honestly a little surprised that she doesn't start drooling as she moves from food cart to food cart. Accepting samples, asking the vendors various questions in hopes that it will help her make a final decision.

Which it doesn't. She just ends up making the same few laps, looking as curious and as hungry as she had at the start of this.

She would be more than happy for a little bit of help on the situation. ]

G e t t i n g 🏠 S e r i o u s ( CLOSED TO GANSEY)

[ The entire festival had been one that Blue was actually enjoying -- while she'd never been too very many celebrations like this one, there's still something that oddly familiar about it.

And maybe there was something a bit comforting about spending a little bit of time remembering everyone that had been lost over the years -- which, unfortunately, included the ladies from Fox Way. They weren't permanently lost in the way that many others were, but to Blue Sargent, it felt like she'd never see them again.

She felt like she'd never see any part of Henrietta again sometimes.

But, at least she had the most important part of Henrietta here with her: Richard Campbell Gansey III. Literally, hand in hand as they stroll the many stalls of food and various gifts. Lately he'd been one of the only things keeping her from losing her mind completely in this new place. ]

Do you think they have things like this back home?

[ She asks, her head resting against Gansey's bicep and her eyes turned up toward him. ]

W i l d c a r d

[ Anything you'd like, any style you like! Just throw it my way, or give

unnideul a little ping. ]

Edited 2018-05-09 15:43 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

Page 1 of 2

COMMUNAL HOUSING APARTMENT MINGLES

Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age