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.

---

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

[singlelogbridge]

A: In class

[Whatever class you're in, Wei Wuxian is also there, taking furious notes and enraptured by the lecture. He asks questions often, eventually learning to raise his hand first but still forgetting occasionally and simply standing to do so. His questions at least are thoughtful and genuine, though sometimes impractical. (Washing shoes in a dish washer, for example, is apparently frowned upon, but hey, that's why he asked!)

Or

Wei Wuxian thought this class would be interesting, but now he's bored, so instead of taking notes on the lecture, he's drawing something on his paper. It kind of looks like Chinese calligraphy for anyone who might recognize it, but the characters are placed precisely on the paper, eventually taking on the shape of an array. He doesn't even bother looking up when he brings his thumb to his lips and bites hard, drawing blood and then quickly smearing the droplets over the meticulously placed characters.

As soon as he has, the paper shifts and flips, folding itself over and over until it has taken on the shape of a small boat. He raises his eyes then to make sure the teacher and those in front of him haven't taken notice, and then with one last drop of blood, he sends the boat off sailing, the paper boat dipping low to avoid anyone catching sight of it. Well, anyone but you apparently.]

B: Bad Night

[He doesn't sleep well, but that's nothing new. The last night he slept well that didn't involve getting black out drunk was the last night Lotus Pier stood, the last night before nearly everyone he'd ever known was slaughtered. These days his nightmares have too much fuel to choose from, and often he wakes feeling overloaded by terror, bile rising in his throat and a scream dying on his lips.

So he sleeps little and generally unwell.

It's frowned upon to wander the shelter at night when others sleep, and when he's given to understand the reasons, he accepts them. The world here is more cautious than his own. It cares more, or at the very least, it makes the effort to try. He wonders how many have been saved by that caution. So he doesn't wander, but he does sometimes find a quiet place in the dark, away from everyone sleeping and hidden behind a few stacks of chairs where no one will ask him to return to his cot. His fingers itch to play then and he pulls his flute Chenqing from his robes, fingers dancing across it without bringing it to his lips.

It's harder to run from himself at night. Harder to keep up the facade. So hard sometimes it feels he'll burst with it. Everything is wrong, his entire life is wrong. His head hurts with it. His chest. He doesn't know what to do, even here, even away from it all. He misses Wen Qing so much it guts him. Everything gone, but she'd been there, always. How many nights when sleep had eluded him has she come out to join him by the fire or nag at him to try to sleep? How many times had she foregone nagging altogether and stabbed his pressure points before he could even argue? Wen Qing and her stupid needles, he does not miss her needles. But he misses her.

She's gone now. Like everyone else. Gone because of him.

His chest hurts and he forces oxygen down and into his lungs, unaware of the dampness on his cheeks. There are half a dozen bottles of Pitorro hidden in his cot, but the task of standing up and going to them seems monumental so he remains.

If he can make it to dawn without losing his mind, all will be well. For now though, he sits in the quiet, trying not to think and failing spectacularly.]

bad nights;

[heeroism]

﹙ he sleeps for utility's sake, but rarely long and never deeply. there's a part of him he can't turn off, that's always alert, always listening for the creak of a floor, the gentle whisper of cloth, the smell of gun-oil, the slick metallic yawn of a blade being pulled from its sheath. and perhaps there's a worry too, a very human fear that if he gives himself over to unfettered rest, he'll dream.

he hears wei wuxian get up. it's not sound, exactly — the boy is quiet as a shadow beneath the dark of the moon. it's more the way there is abruptly a displacement of air, and how his body cuts through it as he pads over to some empty corner of the shelter. heero maintains the façade of sleep — eyes closed, arms folded over his chest, but internally he is consulting his knowledge of the room, approximating where wei wuxian ended up. whether or not this might be the precursor to some threat or if it's just something as simple and normal as being homesick.

whatever it is, it's gnawing at him now, and he knows he won't be able to fall back into tepid rest.

a year ago, two, ten, he wouldn't have cared. someone losing sleep for any reason wasn't his problem or his business. he may have tabulated it as a weakness, something to exploit, but that isn't who he wants to be now. it isn't how he wants to act.

so after a long moment's contemplation, he gets up. he's equally as quiet, and he steps as surely in the dark as he would have if the entire shelter was basking in a fluorescent glow as he makes his way over to roughly where he had pegged wei wuxian as being. he's gratified to find he was close to correct, with a sliver of light coming in from under the nearby door that leads to the washrooms illuminating enough he isn't relying solely on his sense of spatial awareness and hearing.

he sits down from him a short distance away, back to the wall, one knee drawn up. doesn't say anything. just sits, offering the silent solace of company without expectation. maybe he'll speak eventually, if there's a need. for now, the only thing wei wuxian gets is an acknowledging nod. ﹚

[singlelogbridge]

[For a moment, his mind processes the movement and he assumes, Lan Zhan, but then from the corner of his eyes he sees black instead of white and relief overwhelms the disappointment. The last thing he wants at the moment is to be known. For several minutes, he doesn't look at his new companion. He should of course, is used to being on his guard, but he finds that he doesn't care.

It's unlikely that someone means him harm in this place and he also finds that he isn't all that concerned if they do. Maybe if they did. Maybe. He stops the thought there, aware that it's one bridge he has not yet crossed, though it lingers at the back of his mind. Not now though. He will not allow his thoughts to travel there now.

When he finally turns his eyes to discern the identity of his companion, he recognizes the other from that evening on the beach, the one who'd told him about space. Hiro? No, Heero. Heero Yuy. Wei Wuxian is not great with names, but Heero Yuy taught him about space. Heero Yuy is sitting near him now and Wei Wuxian tries to summon a smile, to crack a joke, and finds he can't. This night is far too dark to keep up the act.]

Heero Yuy. [A quiet acknowledgment. His fingers continue to dance over his flute and his eyes watch their movement as he plays a silent song.]

You should be asleep.

[heeroism]

﹙ dryly, ﹚

I'm not the only one.

﹙ it's not quite an offer to talk, not quite anything else. his arms are folded over his chest, his eyes are closed. he's a picture of repose, no unnecessary movement. he barely even seems to breathe. ﹚

[singlelogbridge]

[He hums quietly in response, acknowledging the hypocrisy and dismissing it just as quickly.]

I don't sleep much these days. Don't need it.

[The second part is a lie, obviously, and he can practically hear Wen Qing's frustrated sigh in his head.]

Wouldn't be restful anyway. what's the point?

[heeroism]

﹙ heero's eyes flicker open, and he gives the other man a sidelong look in the near-dark. judging. assessing.

he reaches for an assumption, holds fast to it. could be this guy reminds him of duo, who chooses to hide what he is behind a smile. there are always similarities to be found in people, you can map points on their constellation to others you've known. the overlap is there if you look deeply enough. duo runs his mouth and prefers to bleed when he thinks no one's looking.

hmn. ﹚

Setting an example to your fellow Appeared, maybe. Being at your best in case we're attacked. I could go on.

[singlelogbridge]

[That startles a laugh out of him but it isn't bright and pleasant like the ones from the first day they'd spoken. It's hollow.]

I am no one's example, Heero. And in no condition to fend off an attack on my best days. [That's not exactly true. Except the part where he means it in the moment. If it came to a fight for his own life, he'd lose unless he played Chenqing, and he is sure that it would be a mistake. (He also knows that if it came to an attack on his own life, Lan Wangji would be there whether he wished it or not.)

But if it were for the sake of others, would he play? His eyes bore into the flute in his hands and his fingers freeze in their mock playing.

He is quiet for another moment before he speaks again, before he can think better of it.] Do you like children?

[heeroism]

No one here knows anything about you here except what you're showing them. Don't sound so pitiful. Being an example is about what you show more than who you are.

﹙ it isn't cruelly meant, though perhaps it sounds that way. he's a blunt object at the best of times.

his attention flickers to the flute and away. the question catches him off guard, and for a moment he's back in that day, that endless day that plays on repeat in the back of his head like an old movie reel. he buried the dog because he couldn't find her body. but did he even really look?

(the building burned for hours. he burnt his hands trying to heave the wreckage aside. he did look. he did. it wasn't enough.)

his fingers curl against his palm, a brief flex, there and gone. it's the only physical motion he makes. ﹚

I think they deserve to be children. Whether I like them or not isn't relevant to that.

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian laughs again, quieter but just as brittle.]

Mm, but you've seen my, what is the expression here? My game face. It's very convincing. I've even fooled my brother back home. [He shakes his head and sighs deeply.]

But we're in agreement there. And I love children. Always have. I used to have so many martial sisters and brothers and every single one of them adored me. [He grows quiet then, for a long moment.]

I saw a child here today who couldn't have been older than four. Not one of the Appeared, but out through the shelter doors, peeking in with his older friends. It was very cute.

Reminded me of a child back home. The cutest child in existence, my a-Yuan. He is never fussy and always smiling. He deserves the entire world.

[heeroism]

﹙ it's an awful lot of talk that tells him absolutely nothing except that this guy, who is mostly still a stranger, likes children. heero is silent for a time after he stops speaking, wondering if there's more to come and when nothing further is added: ﹚

What's your point?

[singlelogbridge]

[He chuckles under his breath and only barely doesn't make a comment about the impatience of youth. He's pretty sure they're the same age, though he feels a thousand years old.]

I miss him. I miss all of them, but mostly I miss him. [He's had a longer time to adjust to missing the others, and anyway, none of them were his the way he had come to think of a-Yuan as his.]

I don't think he's alive though. He was four. Is four. [He shrugs.]

If things were different, I think I would have made him my son. He smiled so much. I wanted to protect him from the cruelty of it all, but I couldn't.

[And then he laughs, quiet, broken.] Imagine executing a four year old. Can you? I can't.

Lan Wangji

[singlelogbridge]

[Near the end of the day of a day full of classes, and Wei Wuxian finds himself actually wanting to sleep for once, his brain truly tired out from everything he has been stuffing inside of it, and his thoughts full to the brim with ideas. It's only late afternoon and a few different classes are still meeting, but Wei Wuxian has opted for a nice stroll around the shelter instead. The windows up high let in plenty of natural light at this time of day, and the warmth is soothing and nice, reminding him of the heat of Yunmeng. All in all, it's a peaceful moment that he can readily appreciate.

Or, peaceful at least until he turns a corner and is met with the sight of a dog standing in the middle of the hall as he approaches the main sleeping area of the shelter. Did it come with a volunteer? Did it sneak in when someone else opened the doors? Wei Wuxian doesn't know, and he doesn't care. He really doesn't care when it starts barking in his general direction and moves towards him.

He is barely aware of the terrified shriek he lets out as he zips away and the terrible horrible hell beast gives chase, and even less aware of the name he cries out for, instinct compelling him to call out for the one person who might actually answer the call.]

[quietroom]

[ Late afternoon usually finds Lan Wangji continuing his studies, reading whatever books he can possibly get his hands on, making diligent notes about what he finds. That afternoon finds him reading a book of poetry, a change from the textbooks and non-fiction he's been reading up to now. A pleasant change; poetry has always stirred his soul.

He's so focused, transcribing the poetry so he might remember it later, that he doesn't hear the dog, at first. And when he finally does hear it bark, he ignores it, figuring someone must have let the creature in.

But Wei Wuxian's voice calling his name, a sound he knows by heart, has him out of his chair and out the door of the side room he's in, looking around frantically. ] Wei Ying?

[ His voice is louder than normal, and then he spots Wei Wuxian, running. He doesn't admonish him for running in a place where they should not be running but practically picks up his pace to join him. ] Wei Ying?

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian spots him at the same moment and nearly dives at him, remembering at the last moment not to grab for his back, and instead merely taking cover there with both hands wrapped around one of Lan Wangji's elbows. His eyes are not on his friend but instead focused on the dog that has come to a stop in front of Lan Wangji now, its head tilted and tongue lolling out of its mouth. Wei Wuxian cowers behind Lan Wangji, a soft whimper pulled from his throat the likes of which Lan Wangji has never heard from him. Not when Wen Chao sought to whip him, not when they faced probably death against the Xuanwu, not during the war, not ever.]

Lan Zhan, help.

[quietroom]

[ The sight of Wei Wuxian so terrified has Lan Zhan surprised and concerned, although it doesn't show on his face. He extends his arm, stepping forward slightly and shifting to stand a little more in front of Wei Wuxian. ]

I am here, Wei Ying.

[ This, at least, he can do. He studies the dog, face still impassive, and watches as the dog sits down, tongue lolling, looking happy to see them. It still has Wei Wuxian terrified, so— ]

Leave. [ Said in a firm tone, one that generally has men jumping to obey. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[The dog glances at Lan Wangji, tilts its head in the opposite direction, gives a soft whine under its breath (that has Wei Wuxian echoing with a whine of his own) and then turns and trots away, apparently disinterested now that no one is running and playing with it.

Wei Wuxian sags against Lan Wangji's arm then, hiding his face in his shoulder as he groans.]

Can you imagine if the clans knew, Lan Zhan? The dreaded Yiling Patriarch, undone by a stupid mutt!

[He groans again and keeps his face where it's smooshed against Lan Wangji's arm, unwilling to emerge just yet.]

I hate them! I hate them so much, they're the worst! Is it gone for good? Do you think it will come back?

[quietroom]

[ Lan Wangji watches it go, glaring when it turns to look back at them before bounding off again, apparently having found someone else to play with.

He still doesn't lower his arm. ] It appears to be gone. It must have seen its owner. Or found someone else to play with it.

[ He still waits, just to make sure the dog is gone. ] Dogs?

[singlelogbridge]

[He sighs and it is part relief and part exhaustion as he finally pulls his face from where its hidden, though he keeps his grip on Lan Wangji's arm.]

Dogs! [He groans in answer, the color beginning to return to his cheeks.] Hell beasts! All of them!

[He blinks then when a realization dawns and he glances down at his grip on Lan Wangji and then back up to him.] You came.

[quietroom]

[ He can keep holding his arm out all day, it's all good. He does turn to look over his shoulder, face going slightly soft, eyes gentle. ] I will always come if you call for me.

[ It's the least he can do. It's what he wants to do. In his fever dreams, that was one true revelation: he should have joined Wei Ying much sooner. He will always be there for him, now. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Ha...Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian feels his face grow hot for literally no reason whatsoever and he lets out a strangled sound that turns into a laugh at the very end. Lan Wangji!!]

That is good to know, Lan Zhan, but you should be careful! Do you have any idea how I'll take advantage? Really, what are you thinking telling me such a thing, now I'll call you every time I hear a dog. Maybe even when I don't heard a dog, maybe I'll call you when I am feeling too lazy to reach for something on my own, what will you do then?

[He laughs again, nervous and jittery, residual anxiety from the canine encounter he is sure.

Wei Wuxian looks down then and realizes that he is still holding Lan Wangji's elbow and he lets go quickly, wiping nervous sweat from his palms.]

bad night—

[hellnah]

Hey.

[ The clack of his feet against the hard flooring probably gave away his approach before anything else, but Hellboy announces himself quietly just in case, as he peers around the stack of chairs at Wei Wuxian with eyes that burn faintly in the dark.

He's surely seen the demon around the shelter (Hellboy's a hard one to miss), just as Hellboy's noticed this guy sneaking off after dark a few times.

It's on the third night that Hellboy decides that, locked in here together as they are for the foreseeable future, he's rather know why. And the tears, when he spots them, answer a lot of questions he had at once. ]

Want some company?

[singlelogbridge]

[He's certainly seen this man around the shelter, though he isn't sure if man is quite the word he should use. Demon, perhaps, though he seems different from the demons Wei Wuxian has known. (For one, he hasn't tried to mutilate or possess anyone as far as he's seen.) Any other time and Wei Wuxian would be pestering him with questions, eager to know everything about him and what he is, but now he only stares in muted confusion for a moment before realizing that he is indeed talking to Wei Wuxian. As if there's anyone else here he could possibly be talking to.

Wei Wuxian—always quick to speak or offer a quip—attempts to summon a friendly greeting and feels his mouth fail to create the right shape for it. He's too tired to pretend everything is alright.]

Ah...I'm afraid I won't be very good at that right now.

[One side of his lips quirks up into the ghost of a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes and he blinks a few times, drying moisture he hadn't realized had gathered there.]

pretend this isn't fifty years late

[hellnah]

Don't need to be.

[ He glances over his shoulder, down the dark, empty hall, before curling his tail aside and taking a seat against the wall, near Wei Wuxian but not crowding him. The man didn't say no. ]

You got a sweet tooth?

[ Casually, he fishes a handful of local sweets in brightly-colored wrappers from the deep pocket of his duster and holds out his palm. Some hazelnut chocolate balls, some sesame hard candies and guava jellies he'd swiped from somewhere. ]

2020 is a lie and November especially was fake

[singlelogbridge]

[It is strangely the kind of the thing he might say to another were their positions reversed, and that thought is enough to get another slight smile out of him. It still doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's there and more real than the one before, if mostly from reflex.]

I thought I did, but the sweets I've had here are so sweet. Like nothing I've ever tasted. [There's an aftertaste to them, a strange flavor he hasn't encountered. Of course, it might help if he tried anything that wasn't overly processed and dyed in colors he didn't think were edible.

Still, he accepts one of the candies gratefully with a nod of thanks. If nothing else, it's a welcome distraction.]

Personally, I favor spice. You?

pure facts

[hellnah]

[ HB shrugs, as he pops one of the chocolates in his mouth. He's traveled the globe, sampled cuisines from every corner, but at the end of the day... given the option, he'd still probably pick a stack of syrup-soaked pancakes. ]

I don't have a very sophisticated palate. Ate plenty of sugary junk, growing up.

You're better off without it.

[ He says, having just offered some. ]

Where're you from?