test drive meme #1

[historiadores]

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.

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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!

NAVIGATION • IC COMM • OOC COMM • MEME COMM

Comments

[aionc]

[ the dog's presence is calming, oddly steadying, giving hades a moment of stability in the storm of thoughts and worries coursing through his head. a hand detaches itself from threads of white to rest on the creature's head, scratching softly behind its ears. what a good boy, he thinks, keeping watch for a master that may never come home...

'excuse me, sir.' hades stills, head lifting and turning towards the sound of the voice; a young man, dressed in familiar clothing, head adorned with a redgold laurel─ all things the humans of this world should be sporting. ]

Know of him? [ the smile that comes is wry at best. ] I suppose you could say that. He is family after all.

[deisolate]

Wait. [Wait a minute here. This man doesn't look like anyone he knows.] Family? Really?

[Not that the really knows what the other Olympians look like. Just their voices and he doesn't sound like those he's spoken to. Zagreus looks him over, perplexed and concerned, trying to parse out who this gentleman is.]

I suppose it wouldn't be so far a stretch to say he's part of mine too. [Considering the stories mortals told, no he doesn't think it would be.]

[aionc]

Unfortunately. [ there are days he wishes the opposite, days when zeus is utterly unbearable, but then he remembers what he had done for him. ] More of a pain in my ass than a brother, most days.

[ his gaze narrows, still absently petting the dog, as he starts to process the young man's words. 'I suppose it wouldn't be so far a stretch to say he's part of mine too.' another son? gods, hera will be furious if that is the case, not that she needs another reason to be angry at the king of gods these days. still, it begs the question: ]

What is your name?

[deisolate]

Zagreus. [He doesn't say much more. This man couldn't be his uncle Poseidon.

Names can be powerful things, he's found in his journey through Hades itself. This may be another lesson in power and names, and one he does not wish to trifle with given the other's expression.

What sort of weight would his name carry?]

[aionc]

Zagreus? [ the name doesn't ring any bells, causing him to frown, not another child of zeus then─ unless his brother has somehow managed to hide his infidelity for once (fat chance) in his long life. he isn't like a son of poseidon either, as there is no way in olympus he would have missed the birth of him. ] Forgive me, I don't recognize the name.

[ it's then that he stops petting the dog and gets to his feet, dusting off his suit. ]

Indulge me if you will, what is your relation to Zeus?

[deisolate]

Ah. Yes, well. Zeus is my uncle. [He admits freely.] Poseidon as well.

[Which only left a handful of Gods to name as his father or mother, and neither he's certain he'd like to admit. If Zeus was this man's brother, Poseidon, or Hades must be as well. This will certainly be a strange turn of events now wouldn't it?]

I should have asked before, might I have your name as well?

[aionc]

[ zeus is his uncle? poseidon as well? that only leaves on possibility, one that is in fact impossible given his inability to bear children. if anything that makes hades appear even more on edge, red rings flaring to life around his irises. it could be a lie, though one has to wonder what someone could get for claiming to be the son of hades, there are better gods to claim as your parent.

he shifts his weight and digs out a buisness card from his pocket holding it out to zagerus. ]

Hades.

[deisolate]

That's not possible. [He accepts the business card despite this and stares in stunned shock. There was his name, plain as day: Hades. Aidoneus] You're really the Unseen One?

[This can't be right. How is this man Hades? His father? He furrows his brows before he offers the business card back.]

I apologize, I find this rather hard to believe. Hades is my father.

[aionc]

Yes. [ it's almost offensive to be doubted, wounding his pride more than he honestly expected it to. red rings grow larger, body tensing as he refuses the return of the card. keep it, he thinks, there are plenty more where that came from. ] I am Hades, King of the Underworld, God of the Dead, God of Wealth. I am now and have been for the past two thousand-ish years.

[ 'i apologize, i find this rather hard to believe. hades is my father.' again. a g a i n.

how many times will his supposed children appear before him? how many times does he have to tell them that it isn't possible because he cannot have children? ]

Yes well, I find it hard to believe I have another son.