areyto | EVENT | SETTLING IN

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.

OOC PLANNING POST • NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I moved you. [ said in the same tone as one would speak of a shoe left in the hall.

she frowns at him a moment longer before seeming to come to a decision. ]

Don't move.

[ she returns a few minutes later bearing a paper cup from which pale wisps of steam lightly rise. ]

Drink this, [ she orders.

she holds up the cup to his mouth, feeding him in sips. the tea is warm and not too sweet. she cups her free hand under his chin to catch any droplets that may dribble out. ]

[He might have disobeyed except he really is very groggy. When She returns, he isn't expecting her to hold the cup for him too, and a protest dies on his lips at her very serious expression. He tells himself he's indulging her and not that he's afraid of seeing that very serious expression turn into a frown.

At least there's no one around to see.

When he's had near half of the tea—warm and delicious and actually helping to clear his head—he reaches for it with one hand, sitting up carefully.]

Thanks. For moving me, and the tea. I'm alright, really. Just overdid it.

[ her face is long and solemn, her grey eyes shadowed and heavy. she does not seem child given often to smiles or laughter. those eyes don't belong on a child, at all.

she tips her head to the side. her eyes narrow slightly when she hears his answer. ]

What were you doing?

Trying to get somewhere that doesn't exist here, I guess...[He sighs and frowns, the answer only half meant for her. He should probably be more careful with talking about his abilities, but given the whole situation here in Llave, he's really not too concerned. Also, she's a kid, and he instinctively trusts them far more than adults.]

I wanted to know if I could get to the underworld from here. I can't. Or I'm locked out...I don't know, I couldn't find it.

The underworld?

[ it was a long way down, she remembers. she tried to count the steps and couldn't. ]

[He pauses, considering how to answer. He's never had to explain it before.]

Where the souls of the dead rest once they've left the mortal realm. Where I'm from, it's a place I can go and visit.

I thought I might be able to learn something if I could get there.

There are many names for the same place. Like there are many names and many faces for the same god.

[ he is not lying. she would know if he was. which means he could tell her the way.

curiosity lines her expression. ]

How do you travel to it?

[He nods in agreement, only a little surprised to hear it from her. She's young, but her face speaks of experience. The kind that no one that young should have to go through and that they so often did anyway.

Instead of answering immediately, he glances around then reaches into the shadows beneath the cot, pulling his hand back with a small curl of inky blackness winding around his fingers.]

I walk through the shadows to get there. [He turns his hand palm up and the little shadow gathers there in a ball. A moment later, he concentrates and the ball shapes itself into a small butterfly that hovers over his hand. She doesn't seem the type to be easily scared, but he hopes she'll like the butterfly anyway.]

[ she's not. the opposite, actually. her face lights up, and she stretches her hand out to the butterfly without hesitation. she extends a finger so that it may land. she giggles, a sweet, little sound, sweeter still for its rarity. ]

Edited 2020-11-09 00:34 (UTC)

[Her laughter makes him smile and after the butterfly lands on her finger, he directs it to fly a circle around her and then land briefly on her nose before taking off again.]

That's how I usually get there anyway. Here, I can still use them to get around, but no underworld so far.

[A Pause and then] I'm Nico.

[ she wrinkles her nose and, after it's taken to the air again, follows it with her eyes. ]

Are you a priest?

[ the red priests could bring back a man from the dead. the faceless men could change their faces. ]

[That gets a snort out of him and he shakes his head.]

I'm a half-blood. Half mortal, half god. My father is the god of the dead.

[ she startles. ]

Your father is Him of Many Faces? For true?

[Well.]

I know him as Hades. I don't know if he's the same as the god you know. He's also called Pluto. [And as she'd said, probably known under other names and faces.]

He's the god of the dead and he rules the underworld. Even if that sounds like your Him of Many Faces, they might still be different gods.

In Qohor, he's called the Black Goat, [ she begins like a student asked to recite countries. ] In Yi Ti, the Lion of the Night. To the men of the Narrow Sea he's the Merling King and in Lys she is the Weeping Woman. In the Seven Kingdoms, he's called the Stranger. And he has a hundred more names besides. The merciful end to suffering.

Death, [ she clarifies, unnecessarily perhaps.

she rocks lightly on her heels. ]

I don't think he's the same as your father.

[Given what he is and how he's grown up, Nico is used to kids who've aged too fast and seen too much. He's used to traumatized teenagers who've been through war—he is one. He's more comfortable with death, more familiar than most others he knows, and even he can't help starting at how casually this little girl rattles off everything she knows about the death gods of her world.

It isn't the knowledge even really, so much as the way she says it, like it's nothing. Like seeing death as mercy is normal for a child. (It is a mercy, or can be sometimes, but even he knows it's not normal for children to think so.) He's quiet for a long moment, and as he considers, he pulls the butterfly back from where it had flown back beneath the cot, this time raising a handful of others to frolic around her.]

Maybe not.

[It dims his slight smile to see how comfortable she is with death and makes him take a closer look. His smile vanishes then as he gathers his energy to concentrate and really look. She's drenched in death, waves of it pouring over her. Enough he might have mistaken her for the dead for just a moment. It's enough to make his heart ache. She isn't dying, he doesn't think, the death doesn't fall that way around her, but she must have been surrounded by it for her to have absorbed so much of it.]

What's your name?

I'm no one.

[ seated on the floor, she lets her arms drift between butterflies. she wrinkles her nose at one that lands on her nose, turning her face up, and playfully blowing at it to send it floating again. she cups her hands carefully around another and brings it close to her to study it. ]

You can call me Jory if you want. They do.

[ the way she pronounces it makes clear who she means. the people who found them. the people keeping them here. which she does not mind. she wishes she could go out and run and find nymeria. but here she has food, a cot, clothes. there is warm water to get clean with and as much soap as she wants. and she gets to see movies and listen to music. and she's not alone. gendry is here with her, and she joins nymeria in her dreams every night. this is as lucky as she has ever been.

she even has butterflies now. ]

[Nico watches her with a soft barely there smile, keeping the butterflies afloat with only a fraction of power. The shadows are always the easiest for him to control, the first of his powers that he'd ever unknowingly unlocked. They came as second nature to him, barely taking effort at all anymore, at least when he manipulates them in small ways like this.]

Jory then. You moved me a long way from where I fell. You're pretty strong, aren't you? [Rather than placating, the words are sincere. As underweight as he might be right now, that was still quite a feat for someone so small. She must train. It wouldn't be shocking after the comment about death and the sight of how it clung to her. Anyone with that much death around them must be a survivor.]

[ she shrugs delicately. ]

You weren't as hard to move as the dead. When I undressed and cleaned them, I'd have to turn them over. By then they had already started to stiffen. I'd have to massage them to get the joints to bend.

[ the butterflies have settled on her shorn hair like a black, gently weaving crown when she lifts her gaze, looking nico in the eye. ]

Your arms are very floppy.

Edited (now...it is perfect) 2020-11-12 17:02 (UTC)

[Even for someone like Nico, the words bring him to a full stop and he looks at her, wondering exactly what her life has been like to make a statement like that.]

Why did you work with the dead?

[ her expression is thick with judgment. ]

Because the bodies need to be prepared.

[ how are you son of the god of the dead and don't know this?

taking in a deep breath, she begins with a long-suffering air children alone have mastered for when adults continue to be adults. ]

There's a black pool in the temple. People come from all over. Bent, old people and bravos bleeding and sick people and people only seeking the gift. They drink from the pool, then curl up in front of one of the alcoves with a statue of the Many-Faced God. Soldiers preferred Bakkalon. Sailors went to the Moon-Pale Maiden. After a while, you could guess which face a supplicant came to pray to.

[ she gently pets a butterfly that landed on her finger. ]

The candles in front of the statues all smell different to everyone, and sweet. They fall into sweet, good dreams. And they never wake. It's a peaceful death. But the bodies need to be found and cleaned and prepared. That was my job.

[He hears the judgment and dismisses it just as easily. She hadn't understood what he meant. Why did you, a child, work with the dead. But if it was normal to her, he was stupid to expect an answer to that.

Suicide is what she's talking about, or maybe something softer. The word is too much for what she speaks of, those who suffered, those who were already dying, seeking a peaceful end. He doesn't know how to feel about it, but he couldn't begrudge someone the choice.]

Where I'm from, mortal children don't usually work with the dead.

[But that's not the point he's trying to make and he meets her eyes before offering her a gentle smile.]

Thank you for taking such good care of them, Jory. I'm sure they appreciate it very much.

[ she meets his gaze steadily. her eyes are the grey of a winter storm, and as dark as that sky. ]

The dead are dead.

[ she knows. she carries them with her. her father, her mother. her brothers. her household, her brother's men, her friends. she carries the boy in king's landing and the guard at harrenhal and the soldier she granted mercy. even the ugly little girl whose face she wore to kill a man. the people she hated and the ones left. ser gregor, dunsen, raff the sweetling, ser meryn, ser ilyn, queen cersei.

she rises to her feet. ]

Valar morghulis.

[He raises an eyebrow but then stands to join her. He really should make it back to his own cot for a proper nap.]

What does that mean?

"All men must die."

[ she pauses in her steps. ]

Its response is valar dohaeris. "All men must serve."

[ and on that happy note, she returns to her area of the shelter. the butterflies fall off one by one until she appears to be trailing them. ]

(no subject)

lordofdarkness - 2020-11-13 02:15 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only