historiadores: (Default)
AREYTO MODS ([personal profile] historiadores) wrote in [community profile] 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!

NAVIGATIONIC COMMOOC COMMMEME COMM
lordofdarkness: (And deep down I'm still a child)

[personal profile] lordofdarkness 2020-10-18 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Perfectly healthy, thanks!

[Upon arrival, Nico had been directed and then gently guided, and then slightly less than gently nudged into the hospital. Which is stupid, really, he's not injured. Sure he's pale and tired and hasn't eaten a full meal in, well. A while. But that's just how his life goes. It just be like that sometimes. Not than anyone would hear any of it. No, instead he's being kept in a hospital bed, monitored daily, and even given an IV. It's all ridiculous if you ask him.

Which is why he's not in bed at the moment, having slipped the IV and the room, and even found his clothes to change back into. So long as he can make it out of the hospital, he should be able to make it into at least where the others are being kept in quarantine.

It would probably be a lot easier to do if he could actually pull off the 'I am just a regular visitor who totally didn't escape a hospital bed' look that he was going for, but mostly failing on account of the whole looking like death warmed over thing.

Help him escape? Call a doctor? Try to push him over and see if he falls?
]


Day of Heroes

[For all that being here is even more jarring than his daily life has been lately, (which is honestly really saying something) for the first time since he'd arrived, Nico finds himself at peace. Being around the dead can do that for him. He's sitting next to the ghost of a young girl in a brightly colored dress, listening to her chatter delightedly and occasionally offering a comment of his own. After a while of this, the girl runs off with a peal of laughter and Nico rises to his feet again, a rare soft smile on his face as he watches her go.

He turns then to continue wandering, his eyes wide with the festivity of it all. It really is beautiful.

Eventually he stops to chat with another spirit. Feel free to notice the emo teenage boy who appears to be talking to himself.
]
boundwitch: (Default)

sieglinde sullivan | black butler

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
arrival
[There's a little girl in the arrivals, a little girl maybe ten or eleven years old, with short black hair and bright green eyes and roughly a million chattering questions.

They're not all answered to her satisfaction, but many of them are, and they set her thoughts racing.
]

Hey! You! [She calls from where she's sitting on her cot, to one of the other newcomers. Any of the other newcomers. All of them, eventually.]

Come here! I need to talk to you.

festival
[Sieglinde is out and about, eventually. Which is good, because she was starting to go more than a little stir-crazy in quarantine, and wants to explore.

She has, of course, been assigned to a foster family, but they're going to come and pick her up tomorrow, and today she's utterly on her own. She isn't moving quickly through the crowds, her Arachne Patousa don't let her move with anything beyond a careful walking speed, but she's far more confident with them than the wheelchair she was offered, and they do a good job of getting people to move out of her way.

She watches the dancers, explores the booths, tries the food, and just looks like she's having a pretty good time.
]

puppy
[It's later, but not yet late, and Sieglinde has lowered herself to the rocky ground, detached herself from her metal extra legs and is sitting in front of them. Her clothes are probably getting dirty, but she's much more interested in the dog next to her.]

You're a very good boy, [she says quietly, running her hands through his salt-stiff coat.] I'm sure your master wants to come back to you. He's just lost for a little bit, isn't he.

[She sounds like she wants to believe what she's saying, more than she sounds like she believes what she's saying. It's a story, for a very good dog. She isn't going to tell him the truth everyone knows.]
singlelogbridge: (33)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2020-10-19 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
El Areyto

[It has taken some time, but Wei Wuxian is adjusting.

There are learning curves and pitfalls, and already he's lost sleep wandering the area they're allowed and learning from observation every moment that he can manage, but still he feels overwhelmed with the newness of it all. It's exhilarating. It's a welcome distraction. This world offers wonders he wouldn't have imagined.

He still feels half mad with his need to return to his world and find out if there is anything left to protect, but when he considers it too deeply, he finds he teeters dangerously over the edge of the half attached to that madness. (That should worry him, but it only makes him numb. He's already gone too far, what should it matter now? At least where his is in this place, no one else can fall victim to his mistakes.)

So he doesn't put it out of his mind, but he multitasks.

Today that means wandering whatever festival is taking place and learning whatever he can. He isn't expecting the ghosts. He certainly isn't expecting their brightness and beauty, a far cry from hungry corpses and the bitter dead that have been his companions for so long. It's enough to make the whispers in his head go silent for the day.

After a while of people watching, and indulging in listening to the occasional song, he pulls his flute out of his robe and begins to play along with a man on a stringed instrument he hasn't seen before. He doesn't know music like this, but he's proficient enough to match the tune and his fingers play without calling up any spirits or resentful energies.

In another time, he'd have called it fun. Here and now, it's a rest for his mind and one that's sorely needed.

Please feel free to come and watch him play, throw things at him when he hits a bad note, or join his playing.
]

El Travieso

[For reasons that are not his fault (that's a lie, everything is his fault) Wei Wuxian is looking for a banana. The problem is, he has no idea what a banana is. He might be walking around fixing people with a charming smile and asking.

Someone please tell him what a banana is. He knows it's a food, he's not an idiot, he even suspects it's a fruit, it's just he has never seen one in his life send help.
]

Ah, excuse me? [Take pity, he's pretty sure he just cursed himself and he really doesn't need the extra curse on his life.]
lordofdarkness: (Trust me I know life is scary)

[personal profile] lordofdarkness 2020-10-19 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
Just wondering, is there a library they have access to?
wolfchild: (mw007)

[personal profile] wolfchild 2020-10-19 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
         NIGHTS

[ the shelter isn't bad.

the girl has meals three times a day and snacks between. she has her own cot with blankets and a pillow. and her clothes aren't new, but they're new to her, and no one insists she wear a dress if she doesn't want. if she's quick (and she can be very quick) the water in the showers is warm. the "toilets" she especially loves, and spent her first day flushing it again and again until one of the people there told her to stop.

the people aren't bad either. no one beats or insults her. they are all very nice, which she initially found more suspicious. the woman assigned to her asks a lot of questions: who she is, where she's from, about her family, about her scars. the girl prefers their guards. they talk mainly amongst themselves, but they will answer her questions too. soon, she is japing with them and they are showing her new fighting stances. keep practicing, her favorite guard, who one day showed her her macana, tells her. maybe when you're older you can join.

the nights are the only parts she mislikes. she sits near a window and stares out between the metal slats at the green outside. the frog's song was annoying at first, but it's almost soothing now. she stays until they're told lights out, then she sneaks out of her cot in her new to her pajamas with weird smiling animals on the front of her shirt to the window again.

"are there wolves here?" she asked the bajari bara once. there aren't. too hot, she was told. but between the sweet coquí songs—
]

Do you hear it too? [ she asks without looking behind her, only sensing the presence.

the fine hairs on her arm stand on end. the sound vibrates through her…the mournful lonely howling of a wolf.
]

         ANIMALS

[ as soon as they are given freedom to explore —

she has dashed into the streets.

she has rarely seen so much vibrant color packed into one place. and the sounds. and all the curious things! she forces her way to the front of the crowd to watch the dancers and listen to the musicians. she visits each artisan's table one by one, often lingering to watch how skillfully they weave, carve and paint. she races through cobblestone roads, filling her air with good ocean air.

she lingers longest by the dog. she offers it food from her palm, and pets its salt-roughened coat. she tries to urge it to follow, but it only buts her hand and returns to its watch. a strange expression flits across her young face, a melancholy much too old for her.
]

I know what that's like, [ she tells the dog. ] Waiting.

[ hopping onto the rock with him, she sits down on the sun-warmed stone. the dog lies down next to her, his mournful gaze set on the horizon. she pets him as the sun continues beating down overhead.

maybe get her a hat.
]

( ooc note: if neither of these work for you, pm me and I'll set up a starter for us! )
boundwitch: (2)

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 12:41 am (UTC)(link)
Do you know you're talking to yourself? [Sieglinde asks, looking the older boy over. She steps closer, with the clicking and ticking of metal spider legs on pavement, curious but with no sense of danger.]
boundwitch: (4)

nights

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
[They are the same age, Sieglinde has noticed, and that is unusual. So many of the other newcomers are older, children as small as them are rare.

The other girl moves, after lights out, and Sieglinde isn't sleeping either so she moves after her, out of her cot and crawling on the ground to settle behind her.
]

What are you listening for? [She asks, hushed, straining to hear past the constant call of frogs.]
inkings: (010)

[personal profile] inkings 2020-10-19 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ still processing that she is no longer an only child has taken up more time than mal expected with part of that (most of it) being spent reflecting on how she has little (no) idea on how to be an actual sister. she had just run out on evie, jay, and carlos (a thought that churns her stomach every time she remembers). now here she is with a new brother who also looks like he's hoping to become a skeleton in life.

a goal that comes closer to fruition than nico knows when she wanders into his room with a change of clothes for him and a chocolate bar she swiped from the gift shop on the way up to find a bed empty but for his iv and a few drops of blood on the sheets.

growling quietly, she turns back around. he doesn't prove difficult to spot courtesy of the entire wing being locked off to other patients. as soon as she spots him, she whispers something under her breath. her eyes flash green. and an invisible line trips him up.

that's for scaring her, jerk.
]
Edited 2020-10-19 01:09 (UTC)
inkings: (022)

el travieso

[personal profile] inkings 2020-10-19 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah?

[ in wei wuxian's face, a seventeen-year-old girl with long purple hair wearing an outfit cobbled together from everything purple, black and green among the clothes they were given and artfully torn and painted until she felt comfortable.

this isn't an additional curse, but it sure might be a hex on him.
]
quietroom: (Default)

lan wangji | the untamed

[personal profile] quietroom 2020-10-19 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
▶ LA LLEGADA

[ The shelter is odd. After a year in seclusion, seeing only healers, his brother and his son on occasion, is disconcerting and frustrating. Too loud, after the silence of his home, and filled with too many people, especially for Lan Wangji, who dislikes groups of people at the best of times. And this is hardly the best of times.

He doesn’t have a protocol for this, almost suspects it’s a fever dream even though the wounds on his back are a year old. But without a protocol, Lan Wangji defaults formal and careful, looking at other people from beneath the sweep of his eyelashes, parsing his words carefully, greeting people who greet him with a bow.

The caseworker, as she calls herself, asks questions, and he presses his lips together when they probe too closely to topics he refuses to discuss. But she’s patient, and her smile sometimes reminds him of his brother, and so Lan Wangji softens, gradually, enough to dignify her with simple answers, on occasion.

Sometimes, closer to the evening, he’ll summon his guqin, pluck a few notes on it, although he’s polite enough not to do it often, not wanting to disturb the other people he’s trapped with, especially since they can’t get out. And sometimes, after he’s done, he eyes the guards, wondering if it would be possible—

No, sneaking out is beneath him still. There’s no good reason to do that. ]


▶ EL AREYTO

[ Music is a language that transcends barriers, and Lan Wangji, whatever else he might be, is a skilled musician. The festival finds him sticking close to the musicians as much as possible, putting to memory the songs they play. He doesn’t summon his guqin to join in, unsure of a welcome, unwilling to ask for the moment, and unsure he can get his instrument to match these sounds.

Later, when he has a moment, Lan Wangji finds a secluded spot and attempts to mimic the sounds he heard earlier. Maybe even indulges in a few other songs, ones he knows by heart and diligent training.

Eventually, even he has to eat. None of the food looks familiar, and he carefully skips over anything red, or seemingly spicy, or heavy with scent. Casabe seems safe enough until he takes a bite. Melancholy is actually not unusual for him: he’s had a year of grief, a year of mourning for a lost love who didn’t even know it. It’s just that he’s always been good at hiding his emotions, and for once, he can’t, an expression of deep sadness on his face as he turns away from the cook, seeking shelter behind a nearby tree, the sleeves of his robes fluttering in the breeze as he struggles for composure. Don’t talk to him, don’t talk to him— If someone does, his eyes are red, his voice almost watery. ]


[ ooc: if neither of these work, pm me for a starter, or leave your own ]
wolfchild: (mw018)

[personal profile] wolfchild 2020-10-19 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
[ rather than speak, she cups her hands around her mouth. she howls, not caring when someone inside yells to be quiet. her fingers press to the window. she waits a breath —

a howl answers her.

her blooming smile transforms her face. long and solemn with large grey eyes that look bigger still thanks to her hair being shaved to the scalp, she looks suddenly, noticeably pretty. and she looks her true age, a skinny girl of one and ten who knows the truth: there's a wolf in these forests.
]
singlelogbridge: (33)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2020-10-19 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
[Lan Wangji might not give into the temptation to play, but Wei Wuxian has always been more impulsive. It's a quality he would have spoken of proudly up until recently. Still, he doesn't regret it this time, the music flowing from chenqing a startlingly playful sound in comparison to the dour notes the instrument is used to. He matches the other musicians the best he can and even manages a smile or two as he does, his eyes brighter than they've been in months.

The music is unfamiliar, but someone accustomed to the sound might notice. They might recognize the sound of it. Someone who has heard it often enough might know the instrument of destruction for what it is.

He doesn't see the person standing behind the tree, doesn't pay attention to much at all. Wei Wuxian keeps his eyes closed and plays on.
]
singlelogbridge: (6)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2020-10-19 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
[He blinks for a moment, startled by her look, but then he adapts and shoots her a charming smile with only the slightest nervous edge to it.]

I was wondering if you could help me? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with some of the local crop. Do you know where I can find a banana?

[Also do you know what a banana is??? He is 90% sure it is a fruit. ]
Edited 2020-10-19 01:45 (UTC)
boundwitch: (13)

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Sieglinde's eyes go wide at the howl from the other girl, but there's no fear, and her own smile grows at the answer from outside.

She crawls forward in a quick scramble, reaches up to the windowsill and pulls herself up, holds tightly to whatever she can reach that can help her stay standing as she looks out.
]

But they said there aren't any wolves! [Her voice is still hushed, tense with excitement as she looks and looks.]
wolfchild: (Default)

el areyto

[personal profile] wolfchild 2020-10-19 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ having had a run-in with the bread herself, she knows better than most how powerful it is. it dredged up her dreams, and in that one bite she tasted her brothers' laughter, her father's warm smile, the comfort and safety of her mother's arms. it nearly doubled her over.

she trails him quiet as a shadow and takes up her position on the other side of the tree, shooing away those who come close. task complete, she sits on the warm stones, picking at her sandals, the ruffled sleeves of her shirt fluttering in the cooler breeze. a soft hat covers her shaved head.
]

I don't like to be watched either. [ spoken more to herself than to him. ]
Edited 2020-10-19 02:09 (UTC)
lordofdarkness: (Default)

[personal profile] lordofdarkness 2020-10-19 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
thank you!
wolfchild: (debate ❱❰)

[personal profile] wolfchild 2020-10-19 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ smiles must come at her bidding, and it is only this that keeps from smirking. but it's audible nevertheless in her voice. ]

They were wrong. There's one there.

[ and another when she sleeps and her two skinny girl legs become four powerful paws and a penetrating wolf's sight opens the forest around her at night. ]
inkings: (012)

[personal profile] inkings 2020-10-19 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ o…kay. weird request, but she has heard weirder. ]

I'm gonna guess a fruit vendor?

[ they're called supermarkets now, mal. ]
inkings: (049)

arrival

[personal profile] inkings 2020-10-19 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ the girl is no older than celia or dizzy with apparently all of the exuberance of lady tremaine's granddaughter. and she looks alone.

mal pauses in the process of taking stock of her new inventory and looks over. then she looks behind her in case she thought wrong.
]

Me?
boundwitch: (4)

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 02:13 am (UTC)(link)
[Sieglinde looks, and looks, hungry for a sign of rough fur, sharp teeth, gold eyes. Wolf, or werewolf, or anything else, she wants to see it.

They said there aren't any wolves, but this skinny girl with the shorn hair called and received an answer and so Sieglinde needs to see what might be out there.
]

But if there's only one, she'll be lonely. Where's her pack?
singlelogbridge: (93)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2020-10-19 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[He gives her a friendly nod because yeah that makes sense and also confirms his fruit theory, but also...]

Okay, second question. Would you happen to know what a banana is? I... might need some help identifying one at the vendor if you could be so kind? It's actually more important than you might think.
boundwitch: (Default)

[personal profile] boundwitch 2020-10-19 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
Yes! [Sieglinde says, patting the cot beside her. Sit here, stranger.]

What's your name?
inkings: (130)

[personal profile] inkings 2020-10-19 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
Got an abrupt hankering, did you?

[ well. she has the time. she rises from the bench. ]

Sure. Let's go.

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