riverviewlogs | introductory mingle: MEMORIA

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introductory mingle: MEMORIA

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

memoria

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

a solemn commemoration of those lost

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

i. hanging lanterns

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

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

ii. sharing life

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

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

iii. floating of the lanterns

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

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

iv. roommates or wildcard

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

visual inspiration

click on thumbnails for larger view

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

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[All the lantern-light has made her a little nervous lately; many of the lanterns aren't lit with candles, but many more of them are - and even though it's been somewhere near a full year since her death, she can't shake her rising nerves when she's near them. It's put her in the mood of sticking close to those she trusts to keep her safe - just in case.

Which makes it all the better when she spots Ivar, and sees an empty spot to sit beside him... because no one's anywhere near as interested in sitting right next to the Viking as she is. He's just starting one of his stories when she takes a seat in the grass beside him, leaning gently on his shoulder to alert him of her presence. But she's not about to interrupt, because she'd loved to hear about Ragnar Lothbrok.]

[Ivar notices as Letha comes over to him. Anyone else he might shrug away if they got as close to him as she did. But Letha was special, and while he'd never vocalize it, he was glad to have her so near. One of his hands sought her's out and he weaves his fingers in her's as he speaks. Most Vikings can tell a good story, raised on them from the time they're small. After all, there was precious little else to do during the dead of winter when the snows piled up around outside. Ivar is no exception.]

Ragnar was famous among Vikings for doing things that no other man dared to do. He was the first to sail to England, but that's a story for a different time. The one I'm telling you happened later, once he discovered a whole other country worth raiding. Frankia had its capitol city Paris. No man had ever taken Paris before and the Franks bragged that no one ever would. Ragnar was determined to prove them wrong. He set up camp with his army and went to work. He tried plan after plan, first attacking the main gate. When that failed, he had towers constructed to breach the walls. The Franks pushed back the army and burned the towers. He even sent shieldmaidens in the dead of night to swim to the main gate and attempt to open it that way, but the Franks were waiting for just such an attack. They had traps like boiling oil to pour on the warriors, driving them back with a large spiky rolling device when they got close. Everyone became discouraged and thought the siege was doomed to failure. Then Ragnar got clever.

[He pauses, waiting to see the reaction of his audience. They're all interested in the tale now that he has them hooked, nobody interrupting or talking to their neighbors. He glances at Letha to see how she's enjoying herself.]

[The talk of boiling oil and burning towers wouldn't normally be her cup of tea, but Ivar tells the story with such pride and passion in his voice that she can't help but be enthralled. Relaxed and leaning into him like this, her eyes close for a moment and she can almost imagine the scene in glorious, gorey detail.

When he pauses, she looks up at him with an almost entranced grin on her face. Half because of the story... and half because of how amazing it is to see Ivar enjoying himself so well. If only she could manage to kiss him without distracting him entirely from the tale...]

[Letha's smile is nearly enough to distract him. Ivar has to focus on what he's doing right now, lest he decide to just go off and cuddle wit her. He continues on, now fully in the role of a storyteller.]

He'd gotten a disease during the siege and it was only furthered when he got wounded. He was terribly sick, coughing up blood, and barely able to stand. Everyone feared the worst. It seemed like it was the end of the king and the loyalty he'd inspired in his subjects when he asked the Franks to baptize him. He claimed he wanted to go to Heaven like one of his friends had done. Then he died, requesting a Christian funeral in the process. To do this, he had six of his warriors bring his coffin into the city.

And there in the middle of church, he jumped out of the coffin, killing one of their priests and taking their princess hostage. You see, he had been sick, but he'd been exaggerating the whole time. He let everyone think he was dying so that no one would spoil his plan. Only his son Bjorn, my brother, knew the truth. The only way to raid the city was to already be inside of it. So he filled the coffin with weapons for his warriors. They made their way to the gate and opened it up to the army, allowing them to sack the city from top to bottom. That's why he was the most famous Viking. It wasn't just for his strength. He used his mind too. Between the two of them, he was unstoppable.

[There's something lighter in Ivar's tone and in the bright look in his eyes as he finishes the story. It felt good to be able to speak of his father's great deeds. Truth be told, Ivar remembered the smaller things better, like how Ragnar had told him he had strength even his brothers didn't have because of his legs. But that didn't make for nearly as good a story.]

[When the story is over, and the crowd is giving the appropriate "ooh"s and "wow"s, Letha leans over to kiss Ivar's cheek.]

Your father sounds like an incredible man... I have my own story about Paris, but it's not nearly as awe-inducing. And... I've never heard it in full, only in rumors I pieced together.

[She'd meant to end that comment by pulling Ivar away from the group, but now they're expecting a story from her. And gossipy as she is, she does love to talk about the affairs of her family members. Tempting, but first she puts her attention fully on Ivar to ask him:] Would you like to hear it?

[While Ivar is appreciative of the crowd's reaction, he's most focused on whether Letha enjoyed it or not. His face flushes when she kisses him. When is he going to get used to her doing that? He squeezes her hand gently when she offers to tell a story of her own.]

I would.

[The gentle and casual affection has her blushing, with a silly little grin on her face. What were they doing? Right. Story. Not staring into Ivar's eyes for the next hour.]

Well... in Thornwell, travel is very rare - the Elders don't like us to be influenced by the outside world. We get our supplies outside the gates, and very occasionally the Elders will send someone to speak to other nobles or the King. Well... as it happens there's an exception to everything, particularly for the children of the Elders. My cousin Cephas was the son of two Elders, so when he insisted he wanted to see the world, the Elders let him go as far as France.

In Paris he met a woman, though I've never learned her name. It's one of the Elders' many secrets. I imagine they fell in love, and threw all caution to the wind... and when she met him again in London two years later, she handed him a child and disappeared.

[Her hand reaches to idly run over her belly; she's heard this story a couple of times from others, but she's only now starting to think of how much trouble it must be to be a single parent. Even without the stress of one's family disapproving.]

...And that child was my very closest friend from home, Marionette Regis. I was only a few months older than her when she came, so I don't remember anything before she was there. What I do know is that it's traditional for half-breeds like her to take on the town name like the servants do, but Cephas got his privileges for being close to the Elders. Her given name still gave her away, but... we've all take to calling her Mary anyway. She's grown up to be the local undertaker, and... I miss her, a lot.

[She feels the story wasn't anywhere near as interesting as Ivar's... but it was oddly satisfying to get to speak about Mary for a bit, and remember her. She had the temperament of a mouse, and always seemed just as sure that something was going to strike her down any moment. Letha liked to think having someone like her around kept her grounded.]

[Ivar listens to Letha's tale with interest. Her life was so very different than his own, not just the big difference between time periods, but between the cultures as well. It all seemed so much more cold and refined than the passionate natures of the Vikings. When she finishes, he leans over, and kisses her gently on the lips.]

You know, that's the first time I've heard you talk about your home at length.

[She's dropped hints and given out little tibits here and there, but Ivar always suspected she wasn't all that happy with the way things had been at home. If she had, Letha would have told him more.]

[Her face is red as he kisses her, and it takes all her effort to stay composed and not just melt into a giggling mess. Words can't even describe how very amazing it is, getting such casual affection from him.]

Not many people like to hear about it... and I'm not sure I like to talk about it.

[Her hand ends up gently running over the back of his neck, pulling him closer to she can kiss him again.] Do you want to take a walk with me? [Affection becomes a bit awkward when Ivar's in his wheelchair, but she'd rather find a private spot to be with him than have this crowd of story-listeners.]

I like hearing about. I'm always curious about how you came to be.

[He hasn't spoken a whole lot about his own home, but that's only because it was so different from anything else that Letha would have known or experienced here.]

Let's go. [They leave the crowd of people and take one of the paths. Ivar is unusually silent, still affected by the experience of sharing tales of his father.]

[Away from the crowd she's a bit quieter as well, waiting for a bit to see if he speaks up before she starts the conversation back up.]

There's a good reason I don't speak much about where I'm from, you know. [She tosses out the facts she's comfortable sharing with strangers, but nothing really solid. Nothing that's... meaningful.] I... ever since I came here, everything has felt so- real. Things are different, and varied, and people come from different lives and have different ideas and I never know what to expect from them. And you're different too, and it's all wonderful. Back home, everything was the same boring thing every single day - the same meals, the same chores, the same clothing on every back and the same words coming from every mouth. It almost feels... like I was dreaming something, or reading a book, and now I've woken up and I'm really living.

[She almost sounded.. upset about it. And at the end of all that, her shoulders slump.] I accepted the moment I came here that I'd never be able to go back, but... I still find myself wondering how the people I grew up with would find me if I ever did. I wonder if they- would hate me for being different now.

[Ivar listens to her talk without interrupting Letha. This is the most he's ever heard her talk about her home in length. He stops moving his wheelchair for a moment, reaching out hesitantly to take her hand in his.]

Here is so different from my home that I wouldn't even know where to start. Everything where I'm from is hard and difficult. I've had to fight for everything I wanted my entire life. Nothing ever came easy to me. A cripple among Vikings is less than nothing. To prove myself as someone just as good as everyone else is all I ever wanted.

[It's why Ivar held his anger so close to the surface. Even here, where he could have potentially taken it easy, he couldn't let go of what had defined him for so long. It's what gave him his intensity and drive. Without his anger, he'd be nothing.]

[She accepts his hand readily, running her thumb over the back of it in an affectionate gesture. It's the small touches like this that really make her feel like... she belongs here, with him.]

Everything's much easier for both of us here... but that's what makes it so hard to adjust, isn't it?

[Back home, the monotony of life sent her into spirals of rage and depression, or motivated her into trickery and mischief. Anything that would make it easier to tell one day from another. In the quarantine she's been so busy being exhilarated and amazed by everything new that she finds, she'd almost forgotten the feeling of boredom-based anxiety.]

Exactly. I keep waiting for something to happen.

[Something always did. Life had never given much to the young Viking. It was always much more interested in taking things away from him. For every good thing that happened, there was always something much worse waiting just around the corner.

It made him wonder how long he could keep what he had with Letha. Would she eventually tire of him? Or would her feelings of love eventually turn into something to where they could barely stand each other, the way it had with his own parents?]

[She nods in some form of understanding... her problem is the opposite, that each day is so new and different that she almost feels swept away by the current, but she still can understand feeling out of one's depth.]

I'm starting to think it's no longer a good idea for me to spar... [as if it was in the first place] ...But perhaps we should use Walter to train instead. Then we can keep your skills sharp, in case something does happen.

I would say so. Do I keep having to remind you that you have a daughter to watch out for?

[Sometimes, he feels like Letha lives to do stupid, impulsive things. At least she's thinking more clearly now.]

Good. I've been getting plenty of time in with the monsters that keep trying to break through the fence, but it never hurts to have an actual opponent to face against.

Well... she wasn't affecting my weight before. [Her hands move to her belly, which has really been throwing off her balance of late. And making her dizzy a lot more often than she feels it strictly should.] And anyway she's quickened and her soul's detached from mine, and the doctors said she can hear us speak, so I think it's time I started taking her a bit more seriously.

[Not that Letha... really knows how to take motherhood seriously. Aside from maybe not flirting with death as often.]

Perhaps we can invite Morgan along as well... if you don't mind a bit of jealousy, he does like to flirt. [Which she finds more entertaining and flattering than anything.] From what I understand he's skilled in unarmed combat, and I'm curious to see how you two would fair against each other.

It'll just be a few more months now till she joins us. [He lays a hand on Letha's stomach in a gentle manner. He's always been ambivalent towards the idea of children. It was just something else he'd never have in his life. Now everything is different. She's carrying her husband's child, and while that should infuriate Ivar, instead he feels more of a need to protect them. He's never had anyone who needed him that way before. It's a feeling he could grow to like.]

I might not like that. [Letha should remember that Ivar tends to kill people for far less than the bitter feelings of jealousy. He scowls at the thought.] But I'll take on any opponent.

[Her face turns a bit red as he touches her; it makes her nervous to be carrying another man's child while she's with Ivar, but he hasn't voiced any complaints. It's almost enough to quell the anxious thoughts about it. It isn't as if it's within her control.]

Relax, I only have eyes for you. [She leans down to kiss him warmly, running her hands affectionately over his cheeks.] I only thought you should know so it doesn't surprise you.

[Ivar will always take any bits of affection Letha is willing to give him. And he does need the reassurance. He's always afraid that one day Letha will realize she can find someone so much better than him.

He's about to say something else when he feels Winter kick lightly beneath the hand he's got placed on her stomach. A surprised smile crosses his face.]

That's the first time she's ever done that.

[A small wince crosses Letha's face as Winter kicks, but the look of joy and intrigue on Ivar's face almost makes her forget about the discomfort. He can be so gentle and childlike... it makes her wish more people saw him the way she does.]

You can talk to her, if you like. [Her fingers run through his hair lightly.] I've heard she'll like you better if she knows your voice.

[He doesn't really know what to say. Despite what Letha says, he wonders if Winter can really hear him. What does he say to the child of the woman he cares about?]

Hello there. My mother always said her greatest joy in life was when her sons were born. Your mother is going to feel the same way. And me, I'll be here to watch over both of you and keep you safe.

My parents liked to say my brothers and I were the best things that happened to them. [She offers him a somber smile.] I'm sure I'll feel that way about her... and I'm sure she'll care for you as much as I do.

[It had taken months for her to admit to Aristeo that she cared if he lived or died, but every day she becomes more comfortable with giving casual affection to Ivar. At this rate... well, at this rate they might end up as one of those loving happy couples she's always been jealous of. Her daughter might even grow up not knowing how cold and distant couples could be in their home world.]

Just love her and you'll do fine.

[It's what has defined Ivar's entire life. The love from his mother, Floki, and most of his brothers growing up. The lack of it from his father's absence. The pointed opposite he felt when Sigurd would torment him. He dares to hope that he might even find some form of happiness with Letha. But he's scared of it too. Happiness so rarely comes for the Viking that he never expects it will last. Something will always snatch it away from him and leave him feeling worse than he did at the start.]

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introductory mingle: MEMORIA

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