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chismosos2020-10-17 10:54 pm
historiadores) wrote in chismosos2020-10-17 10:54 pm
Entry tags:
test drive meme #1
TDM #1
LA LLEGADA
The Museum of Art and History is the largest and oldest in Llave, and contains a grand collection spanning from the time the first humans landed on its shores to the modern day. The building encircles an open courtyard where an art installation sits amidst many of the plants important to the settlers of Llave. Behind the museum is a wide, shallow field of hard-packed dirt lined by large stones, the petroglyphs on their surface worn by time—the earliest known playing field in all of the Caribbean. And further out are the areas where excavations are ongoing, uncovering the pottery, jewelry and artifacts of the ancestors.After awakening, things move quickly. The museum is closed, and the characters ushered into the courtyard to wait. Any needing emergency medical attention are kept in one of the air conditioned galleries until the paramedics arrive. A group of women with a military bearing take charge of the situation; identified as the Bajari Bara, they question the healthy and able. They cede authority only to the Prime Minister when she arrives. Two more of their group flank the nation's leader, though they step aside when she begins to walk among the new arrivals to speak with them.
Each side has many questions and few answers. Characters are informed they are in Llave. It's October 2020. And efforts will be made to return them to their homes. But how they came to be here and why remain mysteries…as does how they’ll find their way back.
A hurricane shelter nearby is activated for use by the recent arrivals. There, characters are provided with food and clothing, a cot and other basic supplies. No one is allowed out, but through the windows they can see the lush green of the their surroundings. At night, coquí sing them to sleep. Those taken to a hospital will remain there until they are discharged. Each patient is allowed one visitor to stay with them overnight. Over the next several days, all characters undergo physical and mental evaluations; are provided with their first immunizations; have the next legal steps explained to them; and are taught about Llave. Every character, regardless of age, has a caseworker who checks in with them daily. None have been arrested, they are assured. But they must also complete the quarantine process. To enforce quarantine, at both the hospital and the shelter, the Bajari Bara guard every entrance and exit.
Welcome to Llave.
EL AREYTO
As luck would have it, around the time quarantine ends, all of Llave is in the midst of celebration. Today is the Day of Heroes, celebrated every last weekend in October, which this year happens to fall on the eve of All Saints’ Day. So when the new arrivals venture out for the first time, Nona, the capital, welcomes them with color and music. 
The people of Llave have a special love for music and dance, and it shows. All day, groups gather to play, and many more to dance. The songs center around heroes of Llave with the chief of these being Nuna, a beloved figure who is said to have led her people here to freedom. Those performing wear traditional clothes: guayaberas, long circle skirts, palm hats and headwraps, all brightly colored.From early morning, artisans have set up under tents tables laden with goods. Clothing, jewelry, musical instruments, paintings, and more made from leather and wood, seashells and fish scales, aluminum and copper. Many create right at the table. Most popular are those working on cemís: sculptural objects, said to house the spirits of ancestors. Many carry them as amulets especially on this the eve to the days of the dead.
The food is equally rich and one of the cooks takes an interest in the new arrivals. Those who eat his food find their mood changing depending on what they ate. The tostones he prepared while speaking of his childhood home in Santa Cecilia bring on feelings of joy and contentment. The alcapurrias fried while arguing with a customer about last night’s wrestling match cause those who eat them to feel irritated. And the casabe, a flatbread made of cassava, that he explains he learned to make from his wife who passed, induces a profound nostalgia for lost loves. His wife, recognizable from the photo he keeps on the wall, sits beside those most affected and comforts them until the melancholy passes.
More dead can be found. An old man in a fine guayabera recalls composing the lyrics to a particular song. He points out the man playing the congas and proudly says his great-grandson will soon outplay him. When characters look back to the old man, he’s gone. Those with a sense for it will recognize many dead walking among the living. These next few days honor and celebrate the departed, and the dead have seized the rare opportunity to join the festivities once more.
For those who prefer the sea, the impossibly blue waters of the Caribbean are just a short walk away.
Cobblestone and concrete paths line La Bahía de Nona. On one of the larger rock outcroppings jutting into the bay sits a silver-white dog. If called, he will trot over. Up close, one can see his color is due to the sand and salt that has collected on its coat. Though he allows himself to be petted, he does not step off the rocks. A passerby comments that the dog has been waiting for his master to return. How long? The man shrugs. When he was a boy, the dog was keeping watch; now he’s forty-three, and the dog is still there.EL TRAVIESO
Or perhaps the characters were more distracted by how clean the water was, how clear. Enough so that the sight of a bottle bobbing in the waves seems offensively out of place. Anyone who chooses to snag it out of the water will find it’s a corked bottle of rum, apparently empty.From a nearby restaurant, someone yells and waves their hands—too late. By uncorking it, they have freed the bacoo. Immediately, everyone backs away. Two cross themselves.
Only one stays long enough to warn, “You have to trick it back into the bottle. It likes milk and bananas. Don’t ask it for anything.”
Turn around, and the bacoo is there.
Short and rugged with large eyes, long arms and legs, covered in unkempt hair and its fingers and toes ending in claws, the bacoo is a strange little creature. Stranger still, it can grant any wish—so long as it is kept appeased with a steady diet of milk and bananas.
A hungry bacoo will pelt walls with stones, move objects, keep its owner up at night, and otherwise wreak havoc until it is fed. A shapeshifter, they can be difficult to locate, much less trap. And a starving bacoo will turn vicious and its pranks malicious.
Best find a way to trick it into the bottle. Fast.
OOC NOTES
This TDM covers from mid-to-end of October. The first prompt lasts approximately two weeks; the second, a day. For now, all characters are restricted to Nona. Any attempting to leave will be gently, but firmly escorted back.The TDM will also double as the first IC post of the game. Threads between any two or more characters who were all apped and approved will be considered game canon. As such, actions characters take in this TDM will impact the game once it opens. How characters behave will shape the inhabitants’ first impressions of them. Make it count.
Questions regarding this TDM can be asked below, while questions regarding the game at large should be directed to the FAQ.
Thank you for your interest and we hope to have you join!
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he lets him do what he wants for a time, and then: ﹚
There's no use. You're just wasting your time.
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maybe two who knows
at least he's taller and not wearing spandex shorts
he's at least partly wiggled into the shaft, cursing every time he bangs his head or his elbow or some other body-part against the sides. his voice comes out muffled and weird from one of the other vents along the wall. like a cranky, echoing ghost. ]
How the hell would you know?
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Because I'm better at this than you are.
﹙ he says that so absolutely matter-of-fact it may as well be written in stone for him. you'd never catch him in an undignified scramble into an air duct you can't actually escape from, anyway. ﹚
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the air vent makes an indignant noise. ]
Says the guy who's still stuck in the room.
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﹙ his tone is so very dry. ﹚
We aren't captives. They're going to release us after the Quarantine is over.
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[ not yet anyway, but give him ten more minutes ]
Oh sure, that's what they're saying.
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There's no reason to disbelieve them. If their intentions were malicious, they wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of providing us with these accommodations. They either would have killed us by now, or started torturing us for whatever information they think we have, or using us to find out what skills we have they could use to their benefits.
﹙ he's seriously old hat at the whole capture thing. the last time oz caught him, there wasn't so much as a bed in the cell he'd been put in. ﹚
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[ obviously!!! ]
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﹙ have you ever used logic a day in your life, really. ﹚
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Who says they're ordinary? Of course they're going to say they're ordinary, they're not gonna just fess up because someone asked them the obvious question! And if they have super advanced technology or magic or whatever that can bring us here, then they'd have the ability to cover it up, too.
Listen, buddy, you can't tell what aliens are thinking. That's part of them being alien.
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They aren't aliens. And you shouldn't flatter yourself by thinking if they were, they'd pick someone like you to abduct.
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Are you--- fucking with me right now? Is that what this is?
Also are you an expert on aliens because I bet five hundred million dollars that you aren't.
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﹙ literally the only sound o'brien's going to get out of him on that count. he may not have familiarity with aliens, but he knows people and how they operate, and speaking logically it wouldn't make any sense for the people here to be anything else but that. ﹚
I'm not pulling you out of there if you get stuck, for the record.
﹙ he will. but he'll bitch the entire time. ﹚
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I'm not going to get stuck! Stop saying I'm going to get stuck! God, you're worse than my fuckin' CO and at least he's paid to bitch at me--
[ oh that's. that's a repetitive motion noise, like someone trying to push past something and not succeeding and trying again and not succeeding. ]
--shit.
no subject
Good luck.
﹙ oh, he'll help. eventually. maybe. ﹚
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[ cue a montage of muffled banging and rustling as o'brien clearly tries to contort himself and wiggle and push every which way to try and move a little bit in the shaft. he did manage to get his whole body inside the vent, so there's... that, for whatever it's worth.
he might actually make it to the next air vent along the wall. ]
Fuck, shit, fuck--
[ and then he's unstuck! amazing. he's going to lay there limply and pant. ]
Ugh, this is makin' me miss that godawful swamp and the godawful jungle.
[ he raises his voice, clearly a bit out of breath ]
Hey Negging Boy-- [ sorry heero that's your name now ] --since you're such an expert, why don't you tell me your amazing escape plan that you're not doing.
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Why would I tell you?
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You can tell me something else, if you want. We can ~debrief~ it'll be fun.
[ he's probably in there staring at the nasty dusty ceiling of the shaft which is inches from his face, gross. when was the last time anybody cleaned this thing. ]
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Fine. You go first.
﹙ he's got absolutely no intention of volunteering any information at all, but if it gets the guy to talk then sure, why not. ﹚
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Once I get outside? I mean, it's really gonna depend on what they've got out there, but I figured I'd disappear into the woods like a cunning and elusive panther, leaving no trace of my passage.
[ his tone is extremely sarcastic so it's possible he doesn't believe any of this shit he's saying, but he did have it ready to go in case anyone asked. ]
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﹙ that's his takeaway here. the whole, entire thing. just that, in an absolute deadpan. ﹚
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I guess it doesn't have to be a panther. Any big cat would work. But panthers are like, extra stealthy because they're black.
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Sarcasm aside ﹙ yes he caught that, sarcasm is one of his primary emotional exports, he Gets It ﹚ — I don't think you'd have to worry about anyone thinking you're stealthy enough to pull it off.
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Wow, that was rude and hurts my delicate feelings. I'm a sniper, y'know. It's my job to be stealthy.
Anyway, enough about me and my glamorous lifestyle. What about you, Negging Boy?
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That's none of your business. And if you're a sniper, I pity your military.
﹙ you're clearly incompetent. full shade. ﹚
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