Player Plot: Remember Me

[notthatjason]

characters: Jason Grace & OPEN
location: (1) Harbor then (2) School
date/time: May 15 - 17
content: A small memorial event for those lost to the flood. Include a lantern/boat launch followed by a re-dedication of the Wall for the Remembered, now located in the school.
warnings: Likely discussions of loss/death what is death to a dead thing


1. Harbor
A few days after his network post, Jason can be found down at the harbor. Those that were here in September will definitely recognize it as a very similar set up to what Rastus had going when they did the memorial service then. He doesn’t have glowing stones, but he did bring down two torches from the bonfire and has rigged up a kind of tiki torch situation to light up the area for crafting. He has plenty of paper to craft into lanterns and boats. He’s made a few for those that might struggle, but there are plenty of supplies if you want to take the time to craft your own. There’s also other basic craft supplies -- markers, scissors, tape, and the like -- for making the boats or lanterns more decorated or personalized.

Jason encourages anyone who shows up to mourn or celebrate in their own way. This is intended as a way to honor the dead and missing, but if you don’t want to launch a boat you don’t have to -- perhaps you have another ceremony in mind.

2. School
After several boats have been launched, Jason will pick up one of the torches he brought to the harbor and lead whoever is around to the school. In the end, this seemed like the more accessible of the two locations he had debated. Prior to the memorial, Jason had spent some time sprucing up one of the classrooms and relocating the remains of The Wall for the Remembered, pictures and names moved onto a newly painted tree -- very similar to the one that used to reside in Town Hall.

Inside the classroom, there is one table set up with paints if people want to add names of those they just launched boats for -- Jason didn’t feel like it was right to add them all himself. There is a second table with snacks -- provided by the cafeteria spirit -- so the snacks are mostly what one might find in a school lunch, but hey there are pretty decent cookies. He’s also brought two torches to stay at the school: one in the entrance and one in the memorial room itself -- probably placed somewhere to give the wall the best light.

Once everyone is gathered, Jason will hold up the torch that he led everyone here with and speak: “Thank you all for helping with this and coming today. I can’t say I knew everyone who appeared in the most recent obituary shared with us, so I can’t exactly say anything personal here -- but I know that each loss has had an impact on at least one person in this room.” He pauses, a kind of moment of silence though he doesn’t say as such. After a moment he speaks again, “I know that our future here may be uncertain, but it’s important to take the time to remember those who have helped us even get this far. Tomorrow we can think about the future, but for right now let’s focus on those who are no longer with us -- whoever that may be for you.” He lowers the torch and steps away to give people their privacy and watch over the proceedings.

Comments

Boats

[worthallthis]

Are they any good. They only do this sort of thing once a day, almost, and usually with more complicated designs. It's been some combination of baffling (because Rosinante has very good fine motor control for writing and maps and fighting), amusing (because it's Rosinante making a mess of folding paper), and frustrating (because Rosinante doesn't like being offered help) watching him work out of the corner of their eye. Being asked is a relief.

"I can show you," Soldat offers. "Or just make you some if you would rather that." They put the final fold on their current one and offer it to him. It's pretty perfectly made.

A pause. "Also. I have a real bandage for your hand. If you want."

[callada]

"I'm fine," he grumbles at that second offer. "Just show me how you do it."

It certainly isn't a lack of coordination that's causing the hangups here - Rosinante is good and careful with his hands, as demonstrated not just with his aim but also at how carefully he does his makeup, how delicately he paints Mary's fingernails. But especially for those latter two, mistakes are easy enough to correct when his hand slips, and if he drops a brush or a bottle of nail polish, oh well.

But these scissors, they're too small for his hands and they're not his friends. He's just as prone to cutting himself by mistake as he is to toppling over. Dropping a paper boat and accidentally falling on it in the process of trying to pick it up has happened more than once tonight. And he doesn't have the calm he needs - he's frustrated, he's grieving, and he's angry at all of this happening again. What's worse, drowning, or brutal evisceration? It sounds like an obvious choice but there can't be anything pleasant about being smashed into the rocks by something twenty times your strength and size, and churned to bone by the silt-laden water. These people did not go peacefully and while that's in no way his own fault and he knows it, his reaction is always to think of how he could have done better to save them.

It's not boding well for the boats he's struggling to make in the meantime.

[worthallthis]

Whereas this is basically an extension of Soldat's primary self-comfort activity, so it's helping them stay calm just by doing it. They sympathize with the grief and the frustration-- they've had plenty of moments of anger and upset over all this; two of their favorite people disappeared in the flood, and many others they'd been starting for forge connections with, and it's all such a pointless loss of life-- but those moments are not right now.

First things first: "Put the scissors down." Because those do appear to be the biggest problem, here. The paper is thick enough that it's hard to cut yourself on it, and if they take it slow, he should hopefully be okay. "Just fold. I'll show you the steps for an easy one."

They collect two fresh pieces of paper, and offer one to Rosinante.

[callada]

Fine, then - he sets the scissors down, and takes the piece of paper, ready to observe. At least that's something he's good at, even though paying close attention these days has gotten harder than he'd like to admit. It's hard to focus when every few minutes his mind wanders to wanting cigarettes that simply don't seem to exist anymore.

But he's suffered through worse things than tobacco withdrawal, so he just pushes that particular itch aside for what must be the thirtieth time today, and watches.

"Last time I only had the patience to make two of these. They weren't very good then either," he admits. But he'd had a lot more mental clarity at the time. Those two boats had been for people long gone, after all.

[worthallthis]

"I didn't even know what they were for, last time," Soldat muses, making a fold, waiting for Rosinante to copy them before making another. Step by slow step, so Rosinante can see clearly how it's done, and can take his time, too. Slow means more accurate, and also more calming. "It was just soothing to do. When someone finally explained, I thought I'd be in trouble for doing them for the wrong reason. But no one seemed to mind. I made at least twenty, in the end."

[callada]

The first couple of folds go well enough. Maybe it's actually helpful to talk to someone while doing this. Maybe the problem before was one of being too focused. Who knows. Rosinante can't answer for his problems, despite having lived with them all his life. Yes, he gets angry easily at things he shouldn't be angry at sometimes, and yes, his clumsiness can be borderline disastrous when it crops up, and no, he doesn't know why or what to do about it other than carry on.

And right now, carrying on is folding a dumb boat but maybe he'll get this one right. "You thought you'd get in trouble for making extra? People probably loved that. More they didn't have to fold."

[worthallthis]

"Didn't think of it that way at the time. I was only two weeks into being free." Free-ish. This place isn't exactly freedom, there's still purpose and work to do, but it's a hell of a lot closer to it than where they came from. "Everything was either orders or punishment."

Another fold, still taking it very slow. The boats aren't complicated; they're halfway done. "Learning this, making the little boats to sail on the lake, was the first thing I did just for me."

[callada]

"Glad you got to do that, then."

Lining this fold up right is harder than it looks. Unhappy with the result, he tries to even out the crease, keep the edges neat, and ends up slicing his thumb on the paper itself. He pulls his hand back with a wince, and tries not to feel too defeated.

"You said you had a bandage?"

[worthallthis]

"Yes." Soldat pauses in the work, motions for Rosinante to do the same, and digs into a pocket for the gauze and tape (and medical thread and needle) they always carry with them, these days. They consider very briefly trying to put the bandage on for him, but decide just as quickly that it wouldn't go over well at all, so they just offer the one of the packets in its plastic wrapper for him to take himself.

"Can finish when you're done bleeding," they suggest. The boat isn't ruined. The crease doesn't have to be perfect, and now it will just carry a little more of Rosinante with it, that's all.

[callada]

Just another normal injury. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises are the least-concerning results of his clumsiness. He takes the packet and presses the square of gauze to the cut, then tapes it down firmly. There, solved, and he picks the boat back up again.

"Good enough," he announces. He's just ready to move on and get this done with so he can set them loose in the water.

[worthallthis]

"It is. Having one or two folds not quite right won't ruin it. Here. I'll show you the last steps." And then maybe let Rosinante have theirs, too, in case he wants to send out more than one, so he doesn't have to go through the process again. It's not like Soldat can't make more practically in their sleep.

It's interesting how little the things that soothe Soldat do the same for Rosinante; they really must be extremely different people. And yet not in a way that makes him a bad person, just not the same.

Hopefully the last two folds happen without mishap.

[callada]

They do, which is fortunate. It seems his hands are willing to cooperate the tiny remainder of the way.

"Never thought making a shitty paper boat would be harder than perfect score at the range," he grunts. His aim is probably not great right now either, though. He recognizes part of his trouble is surely to do not just with the frustration and anger of their losses, but the lack of nicotine making it hard to focus.

At least it didn't defeat him entirely, though. Victory against paper, accomplished.

[worthallthis]

Did good, there, Rosi. Soldat nods approvingly. "You have more practice with shooting than folding paper. And it's probably a more important skill, anyway." Soldat only finds this particular skill important for calming activities, and maybe for helping people in this very specific circumstance. "Do you need more than one?"

There's a hesitant motion to offer their own product at him, half-expecting to be rebuffed, but wanting to spare Rosinante having to do that again if he doesn't want to.

[callada]

"I was going to do a few." Now he's not so sure. But then he spies that movement of Soldat's, boat in hand, and he shrugs.

"If you don't want it, sure. Thanks."

It'll save him some frustration, that's for certain.

[worthallthis]

"I'm going to be here a while. I've got time to make more," Soldat assures him, then looks back down at their stack of as-yet unfolded paper, a little more sadly. "I have. A lot of people." As compared to last time, when they had no one. Didn't remember anyone at all to mourn.

[callada]

He does too, but not all of them will get boats. Two is enough, for he has other ways to grieve, and sending out a whole paper fleet is too grand a gesture - the sort of thing that he feels would draw too much attention to him. Only a couple get boats. The others will have other offerings, and all will have their names inscribed on the stars, which is the real way he wants to memorialize them.

"Good luck, then," he mutters, then adds, "And thanks for the help."

[worthallthis]

The idea of getting attention from it hasn't even occurred to Soldat, which is probably just as well, or they might not even do it either. For now, this is hopefully going to help, like it helped last time.

Rosi gets a little smile. "You're welcome, Rosinante."

Then they settle in to make some more, and some little paper animals to go with them. Seems more personal than just writing a name.