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

Rosinante | OTA

[callada]

How... how do boats

Rosinante is terrible at making boats.

He's tried, though, apparently. One crumpled, taped mess is in his hands, and a few more are at his feet. Somehow he's managed to cut himself in the process and so some of the tape and paper has gone into making a very makeshift bandage across the back of his hand and another wraps around a finger. Frustrated, he's about to give up, but instead turns to whoever is nearest. "Hey, are you any good at these? I never could get the hang of origami."

Launch

Successful or not, it doesn't much matter. As people cast their offerings out into the water, Rosinante stands at the edge where the lake just barely laps at the toes of his boots and watches them float off.

These people meant a lot to him. The first time they had lost this many was only a month or so after arrival and while he liked a number of them, he hadn't really come to know them the way he came to know these people that the little paper boats and lanterns now represent. Beacon will not be the same without them. So he breaks his customary silence and softly, just to himself, begins to sing.

((edit: yes, assume Beacon's auto-translate kicks in as always, who knows what language he'd be using tbh))

School

It's nice to see the memorial in place. He first checks to make sure the little tribute to Winters that he and Will had made sure to add has survived the flood. Most here never knew the man, which is itself a tragedy. Rosinante kneels down near where his name sits by the base of the memorial and places down a shotgun shell - hardly the bottle of booze he'd prefer to leave, but they're running low on supplies. It's still fitting in its own way, for he carries the man's shotgun across his back every time he ventures out into the woods.

He leaves other gifts by other names - some of those blue flowers Daylight planted in the greenhouse go to several of the lost, including Daylight himself but also Maes, as well as Peter and Riku. He leaves a shotglass for Ambrose - again, tragically empty, but it's the thought that counts as the dead can't exactly drink. Others get their own various tributes.

He doesn't have much to say, and won't be seeking people out. Closure is hard enough to find, he can't imagine bothering other people. But he'll stay in case anyone wants to talk. He sets up at one of the cafeteria tables with his star chart, and begins adding the names on the bulletin to several of the stars in the sky.

Stone | OTA

[scarsolderthanyou]

Ia. Habor

It is a well-known fact among Raksura that the Aeriat have no artistic talent whatsoever. It might be related to their specific issues with eyesight, or it might be their hunter mentality. Whatever it is, Stone does not have the ability to make the little paper lanterns. Even the simplest folds he messes up, squinting down at them in irritation.

"What did I shitting do wrong this time?" he growls, holding up his misshapen lantern boat. He hasn't hurt himself, like Rosinante, but he's certainly no closer to managing this project.


Ib. Harbor

The whole singing thing had been Stone's idea, so hey, he might as well participate, right? As the little paper things start drifting off, he sings in the background-- and despite his quavery and clearly old speaking voice, his singing voice is clear and high for a man's. The song is wordless, just pure notes, slow and carrying something of grief to it. (Sounds something like this only without actual words...) It's the song his court would sing at the death of one or more of their members.

It's not good enough, not without harmonies and the Arbora and Aeriat to call and response at each other, but it'll have to do.


II. School

Stone doesn't know most of the people in the obituary except in passing: he has their scents memorized and can recognize the sound of their footsteps, but he didn't speak to a lot of them. There's only three or four he can say he really misses, and even then, his song was his grieving, not this.

So he comes here with the others, gives his work as part of the memorial rebuilding a critical once over, and hangs out near the back to let everyone else do their thing if they want. He's just keeping watch, but he's available with hugs if anyone seems to need one.

Pudding | OTA

[flangirl]

1.

Pudding, as she told Jason, is happy to help others make boats and lanterns. Funerary ceremony is not something she's actually done herself before now, but origami, origami she knows. How many of her treats are decorated with sugary replicas, or real origami done with delicate layers of edible rice paper? So it's simple, easy, to teach, or to outright make a few for those who can't get it down or whose hands are too shaky to try. She's also folding up some little flames in red paper, if anyone wants to add one into their lantern, or atop their boat.

Once the first boats begin to settle on the water, she pauses a moment to watch. There's nothing for her, really - she didn't know anyone well enough to quite feel right making something, and she feels little to celebrate -

She blinks, pauses. Turns back to the table while no one's eyes are on it and begins to fold. The early folds are simple, just to crease the paper, and when that's done... She takes several looks around while she pulls up a brush and dark paint, and only when she's certain no one can see, writes a name down the length of it.

シ
ャ
｜
ロ
ッ
ト

プ
リ
ン

She folds it shut immediately. It's fine if the paint smears. She knows what it says, and it's important that no one else does.

Instead of a boat or lantern, she folds it into a paper crane. As the boats are launched, she steps up to the shore and blows it into the water from her fingertips.

Maybe it's okay like this, after weeks of doing her best to help and protect instead of lure and harm, to mourn and celebrate that the old her is dead.


2.

Like at the shore, Pudding doesn't say much. It's not her place. One thing she has done, with - well, she thinks, at least? - the "permission" of the cafeteria spirit, is make her good cocoa. For the warmth, for the sweetness, for the comfort. She has plenty for everyone, with two crock pots full, and she'll gladly ladle some into an old (clean) cafeteria mug for anyone who comes up.

Fjord | OTA

[fjorgedinfire]

Harbor

So Fjord is still bad at making small-scale things with his hands. He takes one of the little paper boats Jason already made, to use as a sort of tutorial for himself, but it's very difficult actually making the lines... well, line up, and a few times he's ended up with just a sheet of paper covered in so many folds that it couldn't be turned into a boat at all.

He's not getting frustrated, as such, but it's a little disheartening.


Launch

He lingers behind a little, when all of the boats are finally sent out. Looks at all the little boats and paper lanterns and origami all gently floating on the water. The reprieve he had with Soldat and Rosinante earlier in the week rings in his ears as he walks forward, wading into the shallows until his boots are nearly fully covered in water, he raises both hands, letting them hover parallel to his hips, feeling the control he has over the water shift, easy and almost natural, and the water around him stills, ripples into glassy calm as far as the light touches.

"Your death wasn't meaningless," he says - quiet, but not enough that the Southern twang isn't easy to still hear from a distance. "We'll remember all of you."

He lifts his hands, and the waters immediately in front of him surge, swell to rise up to his knees as he lifts his hands to his chest - and gently, firmly pushes forward. The water around his knees turn into a wave, and crests, and all the little paper figures get caught up in the tiny wave of foam and pushed into motion, slowly setting out across the lake until they're just dim shapes in the dark. To wherever it might take them.


School

He feels lucky, in some small way, that he wasn't the one to bury Mollymauk's body in the first place. But at least he knew it was. That it wasn't just jammed in an open crate in a hole in the ground behind a pair of locked doors, half-destroyed and rotting and--

He pulls his brush away from where he's painting Molly's name, so the trembling in his hand doesn't ruin his work so far. He's not dexterous enough to do this well - he got Kal-El and Alisaie's names up alright, but Molly's...

It takes him a few more seconds until he can stop his hand again, and paints the rest of his name in the rich purple paint he's managed to mix up. Alisaie's is in a warm white, almost pink; Kal-El's is a soft blue. He's not artsy, but he still manages to paint something that mostly resembles a peacock feather, with a single red eye, underneath Mollymauk's name.

When he's done, he stands up, puts his paintbrush back on the table, and turns back to the wall. His hand starts at his side, and in a sharp splash of water that splatters against the ground, his golden falchion appears in his hand. The fancy trick at the harbor was for everyone else; this one's for him.

"Last time, Molly." His voice is quiet, nearly inaudible, and - for those who might still catch it - in his true accent.

He shifts his grip, flicks the sword up and in front of him, and back down in a firm sailor's salute.

Bucky/Soldat - Harbor | OTA

[worthallthis]

Soldat is very adept at making little boats, and willing to help demonstrate or make them for other people, if needed. It's soothing. So it helping people, so anyone clearly struggling gets a wordless offer of a piece of paper to work on, or a finished boat and an understanding expression.

They're making a bunch for themselves, each with a little tiny star drawn on them, each carrying a little folded paper animals.

One has a fox. Another has a lion. Three have owls, all in different colors. There's one with a little dog and one with a horse, one with an eagle and one with a cat. One even has a little folded star. Each boat gets sent off with its symbolic paper burden while Soldat watches them drift away sadly.