EVENT | SETTLING IN

[historiadores]

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.

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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.

OOC PLANNING POST • NAVIGATION

Comments

[heterochrocatic]

[ Mal has a point there. Catra can't argue with that logic, especially when she has an uncomfortable familiarity with being stuck with the consequences of her own actions. So instead of answering at first she just punches at her clay with a few despondent motions. ]

This is still stupid.

[inkings]

[ mal lets her hit the clay a few times, recognizing something in catra. she saw it in uma: furious, powerless, abandoned. and she saw it in herself: trapped under a barrier on an isle of garbage, stripped of her magic, more likely to wreck than fix anything she touched.

she can let the girl keep pounding the clay; hades knows that helps sometimes. or— ]

Be right back.

[ getting up, mal leaves her pencil drawing: a portrait of a beautiful girl in a crown. she even detailed the measuring tape around the girl's neck; fabric swatches at the girl's elbows rise up like a frame.

mal speaks with one of the staff in charge of the class. a short discussion later, both disappear into one of the closed, unused rooms, mal carrying with her newspapers, bottles of paint, a roll of tape and a canvas.

when she returns, she stops next to catra's table. ]

Come on. I think I found something you'll like more.

[heterochrocatic]

[ Catra seems content (for a given value of 'content' in any case) to go back to working the clay with ceaseless agitation. Rolling it, shaping it into nothing and then squishing it flat as each effort at finding some kind of meaning or structure fails to please her. When Mal speaks to her again, she stares up at the girl with a confused, almost uncertain expression. Despite herself, she shoves her chair back and gets to her feet, tail lashing. ]

What is it?

[ Her voice and expression match, suspicious and skeptical of this new thing being offered out to her. ]

[inkings]

You'll see.

[ the room is empty but for extra tables and chairs and several cots folded against a wall. against the opposite wall, mal fixed the canvas now with a couple of tabs on three sides. the wall to either side and beneath it and the floor just under it are both covered with the newspaper.

they are alone but for each other.

mal heads for a little pile of round oval-looking balls. she picks up two, hands one to catra. the corner of her mouth lifts in a smirk. ]

How's your aim?

[ the paint-filled water balloon she held onto explodes against the canvas, splattering red across the pristine surface. ]

[heterochrocatic]

[ Catra stands awkwardly behind Mal for a long moment, her arms crossed. She's not sure what's happening here or why she's been pulled aside but has a sinking feeling of being picked out for some kind of special punishment. Or something. So when Mal picks up a paint balloon and splatters it across the canvas there's a surprised little flick of her tail. Ears perk forwards in interest. ]

Pretty good.

[ She picks up a balloon, hefts it, and then hurls it against the canvas, where it explodes into bright blue paint. That actually felt pretty good. ]

[inkings]

Nice!

[ laughing, mal grabs another balloon. ]

Twelve points say I nail the upper left corner.

[heterochrocatic]

[ Catra picks up another one herself, balancing the balloon in her hand. ]

Alright, go for it then.

[ What are points? Why do they matter? She doesn't much care for the moment. ]

[inkings]

[ 12 points for her!! technically 10 because she didn't hit exactly where she wanted, but it's still covered in paint and also she is assigning her own points and the points don't matter ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

mal bends to pick up another balloon as catra takes her own shot. she smiles at the red-and-blue-and-yellow already on the canvas. ]

This is the fun thing about art. You can literally throw things against a wall and call it art. Or if you're like me, spend your childhood tagging walls and leading angry residents and shopkeepers on a merry chase.

[heterochrocatic]

[ Catra hurls her balloon shortly after Mal and a splash of red paint smears over the center of the canvas. She wasn't aiming for anything in particular. It just feels good to let out a bit of energy. ]

I did a few doodles, but nothing that big. Not enough paint in the Fright Zone for that. Not in interesting colors, anyway.

[inkings]

And I thought the Isle of the Lost sounded bad.

[ mal makes a considering moue, holding onto her balloon. ]

I did end up once on the Isle of the Doomed.

[heterochrocatic]

Isle of the Doomed? Is that near Beast Island?

[ A faint snort as she plucks another balloon from the pile. ]

What's with people sending people they don't like to creepy islands?

[inkings]

I would not be surprised.

[ mal snickers quietly. now that catra seems to have got into the spirit of it, she hangs back. this will be catra's work. ]

I wasn't so much sent as I was born, actually. My parents were sent. My mother even had the dubious honor of being first in line.

[ her mother was also brought back from the dead because it was felt she had not been punished enough. hence, maleficent's one-way ticket to the isle of the lost.

when mal thinks about it, it's no wonder her mother became a complete lunatic. ]

[heterochrocatic]

[ Catra winds up and throws, splatters a spray of vibrant green across the center of the canvas and turns to pick up another balloon. This is better. It lets her move, lets her work out the nervous energy tugging her in all directions. ]

Whoa. That must have sucked.

[ Catra snorts faintly and throws again. Another splatter of red. ]

I grew up in the Fright Zone, never knew my parents though.

[inkings]

Might be a bit of a dodged curse there.

[ mal, no. ]

Seriously, though, I'm sorry that happened to you. It's…rough.

[ she tosses her own balloon finally. her relationship with her father is exhausting, frustrating, and complicated, especially with a hades taking in stray dogs two rooms down. even as she tries to figure out a peaceable agreement with him (more for her brother's sake than her own), it's hard to ignore the flare of hurt in her chest every time she remembers that her father left her the moment she was born. ]

[heterochrocatic]

I'm alive, aren't I?

[ Not that she thinks much of that answer. As far as she knew, when she'd arrived here she'd been on the verge of being executed by Horde Prime. Why should she care about being alive? She hurls another balloon at the canvas, as if to distract herself from those unhappy thoughts. ]

You don't need to be sorry about any of it.

[inkings]

Yeah, you are. And you got plenty of balloons left so knock yourself out.

[ mal starts heading for the door. ]

When you're done, wait for it to dry before peeling off the tape.