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areyto2020-11-06 06:40 pm
historiadores) wrote in areyto2020-11-06 06:40 pm
Entry tags:
EVENT | SETTLING IN
SETTLING IN
Initial quarantine period is over, but the newest arrivals in Llave, known colloquially as “Los Aparecidos” (The Appeared), remain largely restricted to the shelter for two primary reasons: one, as they are currently stateless, meaning they have no rights to citizenship anywhere, what to do with them continues to be debated; and two, it has become rapidly obvious that many have zero knowledge not just of the nation they find themselves in, but of the wider world around them.The former has been explained to them via the lawyers who have taken their collective case, and further clarified by the prime minister, Rosario Alonzo de León, when she and several members of her government return to speak again with the arrivals. A highly intelligent and capable woman in her late forties, she makes a point of sitting with each newcomer to Llave to converse about their experiences thus far and what concerns they have.
As for the lagoons in characters’ knowledge, steps are being taken to address these.
Classes are being held now, in order to prepare the arrivals for whatever happens next. Characters will be taught a variety of skills, including but not limited to communication methods such as mail, phones, television, radio and the Internet; use of appliances, including basic lessons on modern utilities; and general safety rules both inside and outside the home. Characters can request specific classes or volunteer to help teach their companions. (And for anyone learning or helping to teach how to read and write, a reminder that the Spanish alphabet consists of 27 letters: ‘ñ’ has its place after ‘n’. And ‘ll’ and ‘rr’ have their own sounds.)
The woman organizing the classes has become well-known to the arrivals: Evelyn Burgos Peña was a clinical social worker before leaving her previous work to assume the duties of First Lady when her wife was elected. Aside from spearheading the new education efforts for the arrivals, she has also been working diligently with the Bajari Bara to establish the second change in the daily routine.
Due to the generally acceptable behavior during the Day of Heroes, characters are now sometimes permitted to leave the shelter to visit Old Nona. These group excursions are not every day, and last only a few hours. One of these excursions is tied to a class to which all are invited. Rather than make learning more about Llave itself a tedious lecture, on the week of November 22nd, the museum characters arrived at has opened its doors to them for a special exhibit on the island's early history. Characters are accompanied as they were during the Day of Heroes by a guide and an escort of Bajari Bara.
Characters are reminded being permitted outside is a privilege. Until the matter of their legal status is resolved, they have few rights and fewer legal protections. Behavior and curfew are both strictly enforced, and violations will result in the loss of this privilege.
Otherwise, the routine in the shelter remains the same. Caseworkers still check in daily and will refer those who present a need or who request it to the appropriate mental health professionals. Hot meals continue to be provided three times a day along with snacks. A projector was brought in and a different movie is aired every night (General Audiences only—remember, there are children present), with the shelter staff providing snacks to make it a movie theater experience. Entertainment items—books, games, sports equipment, art supplies, etc.—are available and can also be requested (though no promises are made that characters will get exactly what they want, especially if the item can double as a weapon). Possession of weapons remains strictly prohibited and any visible weapons will be confiscated. Any who attempts to flout this rule, starts fights in the shelter or in Nona or attempts to break out will be swiftly separated from the rest by the Bajari Bara. Further violence will result in consequences according to their actions.
THE MONTH'S HEADLINES
- Red chickcharney seen celebrating during the Day of Heroes.
- Tombs found disturbed in Nona's Old Cemetery.
- Santa Cecilia cattle farmers on high alert after cows, sheep found mauled.
- Unidentified flying object spotted off the coast of Bimini.
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[ snagging the bottle, mal tosses it his way without breaking her stride. his art goes uncommented on. people will create what they want; she saves her opinions for when they're asked for.
reaching her table, she begins to test out colors before settling on the ones she needs. rather than canvas, she works on the wall itself. she sought permission before starting (a first for her), and carefully begins filling in the sketch she had completed earlier: nona during the day of heroes, the dancers, the musicians, the food vendors, the artisans, the cobblestone streets, the glitter of the bay, even that sweet, noble dog. it's frenetic, and vibrant, and alive even without yet seeing a drop of color. ]
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he cleans up his station without incident, efficient and quick. and then, with no other ideas, nothing else to do and time enough to while away in the classroom, he finds his attention being drawn back to her.
there are people who dress to blend in, to be patently unremarkable. he's done it often, and well. no sense standing out unless you need to. she seems to hold the opposite to be true.
it reminds him of duo in a way. the priest collar, the excessively long hair that's more trouble than it's worth. it's a statement — duo's is a dare to invite comment. heero thinks he's probably looking for a fight, though the other boy would never admit as much.
he's not going to guess at what hers is beyond an appreciation of the color purple, but if the point is to get noticed it does its job. he watches as she blocks out the sketched images, filling in the lines and whorls. there's certainly an artistry to it that escapes him — the grace to the dancers, the way the brushstrokes suggest the movement of their swaying skirts. as she works, something almost starkly apparent emerges there: it's art for its own sake.
there's a clear difference between an image done for utility and art as done for love of creating beauty. little things that enhance rather than detract.
hmn. even the dog, that he'd spent so many hours beside. he can almost imagine its salt-encrusted fur beneath his hand.
he takes his canvas down off its easel and goes to set it to one side of the classroom so the paint can finish setting, and then he comes to stand behind her, leaning against a nearby desk, arms folded. a normal teenager would try to strike up a normal conversation. idly: ﹚
Had you ever been to a festival like that?
﹙ it seems appropriate. he hadn't. no point, no interest. the closest was the dance he went to with relena — and even that was more about her. but there'd been something somber in talking to the dead, in the silent vigil spent next to the ocean. maybe it should have unsettled him more than it did. ﹚
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[ as she has. subtly, she has woven the dead she came across into her painting. from the cook's wife looking lovingly upon her husband as he serves the casabe, to an older man clapping his gnarled hands to the music, to a child flitting joyfully through the crowd as her grandmother follows her.
her mother had no consideration for the living or dead, and hades proudly declared that he stole souls. in this, mal finds herself a kindred spirit to nico. like her brother, she has a special fondness for the dead. too easily forgotten, neglected, abandoned.
mal takes a little step back on the box she is standing to take in her work up until this point. she passes the back of her hand across her brow. hours have been put into this mural and hours still remain to finish.
she pulled her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head. purple and blue strands have escaped, framing her face and curling gently against her neck. sweaty and tired she might be, but surprisingly she has kept remarkably clean. there is not a speckle of paint on her clothes aside from what she deliberately out upon them. her jewelry is untouched. the purple diamond on her left ring finger twinkles gently. ]
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it's still new. realizing these things about people with an eye to something other than their weakness and how best it serves him. how to take advantage. letting himself instead consider, and care enough to do something about it. he can be his own man, and not a soul here needs ever be aware that he was ever violent, once.
in the interim, he pushes himself off the desk, goes to a small bar fridge kept for the students and pulls out two bottles of cold water. on his return he sets one down beside her wordlessly, then resumes his watchful position of earlier. ﹚
You don't think it's unusual?
﹙ most people aren't so accustomed to walking the streets with the dead. it would have bothered him, if he didn't have a plane of alliance pacifists dogging at his proverbial heels. if the little girl and her dog weren't always close behind them. as it stands, he'd just brushed off any unease he may have otherwise felt. this was clearly a normal part of their functioning society, it didn't serve him to be caught off his guard by it.
it would speak volumes to the world she hailed from if it was just another day for her. but it would also reveal just as much if her world had no such thing, if this was just her way of coping. ﹚
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[ she open the bottle, takes a sip, caps it and puts it aside. changing brushes, she gets back into it. ]
I hear Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico are gorgeous, [ she continues conversationally. ] Pity we were stuck inside for these. I'd have loved to see them.
[ and fill the pages of her sketchbook. ]
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No. Spirits walking among the living.
﹙ even for just one day. he's never adhered much to the idea of cultural histories — the colonies had their traditions, but he was never party to them. never in one place long enough. he wouldn't have gone to a celebration or festival anyway, not unless it was a mission, and he doesn't feel like he lost anything by it.
well, anything more than all the rest of what he left behind. social gatherings are low on his list.
he uncaps his water, takes a drink and then folds his arms, resting the bottle against its opposing elbow. he watches as she redoubles her work, the way she wields a brush with all the same familiarity he'd handle a knife.
he decides, then, to take a risk. ﹚
You don't sound worried about being whisked away to what's a different world for a lot of us.
﹙ in fact, if he didn't know any better he'd assume she was a local. either she's handling it orders of magnitude better than most, or it's not her first time winding up somewhere like this. ﹚
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I can break out the thumbscrews if that's more your speed.
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[ mal turns around, mouth turned up at one corner in amusement. ]
Did you wish upon a star or was it a fairy that turned you into a real boy?
[ if gepetto is here, she wants to meet him. ]
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Whose puppet do you think I am, exactly?
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[ she turns back to the wall, but first— ]
Recommendation, take it or not, doesn't affect me either way. If you want to get information out of people, try actually conversing. Take an interest in something they said. Share something about yourself in return.
Who knows, Pin [ occhio ], with enough practice you might even come to enjoy it.
[ she tips her brush to him and resumes her work. ]
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he probably does seem pretty wooden, anyway. he takes a drink of his water, caps it. sets it down beside him on one of the tables. ﹚
It's Heero. My name.
﹙ sharing. why not? ﹚
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See you around, Heero.