Sounds like Saturnalia. I've... vaguely heard of that. Some really ancient thing that was in Europe somewhere.
[After more than a month, he can't help wondering if it's really as simple as saying hello, but he's not about to squander the chance to talk.]
It is strange, being away, but I guess you get used to it. I'd always spend time with the ones like me, a kind of family. We'd usually be spending it getting drunk on whatever was still around, but there were a few times we did the traditional procession of las posadas in the days leading up with whatever we could find. It was pretty nice. You?
for us, satinalia isn't just one day, more like a whole week. there's parties and masks, some fool ruling the town for a day, feasting and dancing. usually on the actual day is when the feast is largest, you get drunkest, and give gifts.
I know what you mean. Christmas is a party more up in the north in the living world, I hear. In México, the feast of Guadalupe started on the third and ended on the twelfth, then the Christmas season began with las posadas and went on until Christmas eve, and los niños opened gifts at midnight, after mass and one of the biggest feasts. And then there's Los Santos Inocentes which is fun, New Years, Día de los Tres Reyes Magos... but I haven't celebrated any of that really in a while.
I like Christmas day. It's the day everything settles down for a little while. It just feels like a whole blur until the end of January for me.
that sounds like a lot all at once. we have two holidays in the winter as well, but they're more than a month apart.
there's something outside your door.
[a gift bag containing a jacket that would have fit Héctor in life, but is too large for his skeletal self, and one of the phallic Santa figurines he carved last year.]
[Usually, he's still mourning his failures after Día de Muertos until some member of los Olvidados comes to drag him out of a shack for Christmas day drinking in an effort to break his depressive fog.
And speaking of that, he looks on the message with some surprise, rising up to head for the door. He hopes it tentatively, wondering if he'll actually see Garrett there. He doesn't. But there on the front step is indeed something.
He pulls the jacket out first and he marvels at it. It's big enough he can wear it over what he already has, and why not? It'll be a way to warm his old bones. Once it's hanging off his shoulders, he hugs to himself just a little.
And then he sees the second gift and chokes on a laugh, a bewildered one. He carries the gift bag back inside.]
Are you still making those things?
Thank you, Garret. The jacket is really nice.
I wish I had thought of something for you. Have you been well? Since I left?
[He is not going to give that thing nearly the same amount of love. But on that note...]
Not really. The craziest one right now is me. Vanya lost her memory of me. I haven't really seen you or any of the others for various reasons.[Like Squalo's whole breakdown thing, Dodger being Dodger, Garrett being afraid...] I know more but no one's really that close. So, it's just me and Nekane. We don't really get that weird. We're already as close as we want to be. At least, they haven't freaked out at me yet.
Ahah, yeah, that's pretty popular, actually. And so is clipping earing in through braids. The dead are innovative. And people are people, we all love to look good.
well of course you do! The odd mental image was of trying to outline the entire jaw. I'm sure they don't but I imagine the newly dead have a bit of a learning curve with figuring out how to draw everything on
It's tricky when you first wake. Disorienting. But it's something everyone's gone through so there's a lot of people ready to help you on your feet. And if you already have family on the other side, you get to meet them and spend time with them again which probably helps even more.
I think some people just do fake nails, like in the living world, or paint their bones.
Well, I mean, I wouldn't really know for sure. I didn't have family on the other side. I was an orphan kid, no last name or anything. If I had dead family, I wouldn't have been able to find them.
[But, given that he hasn't the faintest idea who they were, if they were counting on his memory, they were long forgotten.]
All of my family was in the land of the living, so, I was on my own for a good while until I moved to shantytown.
Look, I know it sounds bad, but it's not like that. They're good people. We're all dead, so no one's starving or suffering. We stick together and we're a family. It's no stupid colonial tower but we're set up by the water and by the ruins and we're the first to see the sun rises, you know, it's nice.
[Sorry, Garrett, he's a little sore over how often people snub his home and the people there.]
It is nice. The community part. We all call each other tío or cousin or whatever fits for us. And they're probably some of the best people I've ever known.
[And now he's back to stalling on the hard parts.]
I don't know if I'd say it's for anybody waiting, exactly. More that they've stopped waiting.
My afterlife doesn't last forever. It's based on memory, connection. It lasts for however long you're remembered in the living world and if your stories are passed down. If anyone's still putting up your picture after you're gone. When people are no longer remembered, our energy fades with the memory. If there's nothing holding you in the living world and you have no family in the land of the dead to go to and stay with, then, you go to shantytown. And then everyone's your family.
[Ahyup. Here it goes. He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's almost glad this is horrifically awkward because it's a nice change from horrifically depressing.]
I was disowned. Yeah.
They never put up my photo so I couldn't visit on the day of the dead and they didn't talk about me so Nobody knows who I am.
My wife lived until sometime in the seventies and I waited for her and she did not want to see me. For obvious reasons when more of the family crossed over I did not meet them. But, I was already being forgotten, so, I was already living in shantytown anyway.
My daughter's still alive. She's very old now. She Well Like I said, my afterlife is over and that's why I'm here. I'm forgotten.
[If u listen carefully u can hear the sound of Garrett's mental screaming all the way across the hotel, piercing even the bitter cold that has half the community shut down. Just. Scream.
There are so many parts of that he wants to yell at- like the foremost obvious travesty of Héctor "I love my wife and my beautiful daughter" Rivera being disowned by his family. Or the question lurking in his mind about whether Garrett misjudged him- but no, no, that's impossible. Then there's the entire horror of fading out of existence as people forget you, but-]
how could anyone forget you? you're
[Too good for any of these terrible places, and too good for the people who rejected him. Probably.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; christmas morning
[no they haven't spoken since Héctor's return, who cares it's fine.]
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Just dead. Not living. But, yes. Well, some do. Most, I would say.
[He's beating around the bush.]
Are you celebrating? Feliz Navidad, if you are.
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just wanted to say hello
always felt odd to me being away from family
[He was worried and wanted to check up on him.]
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[After more than a month, he can't help wondering if it's really as simple as saying hello, but he's not about to squander the chance to talk.]
It is strange, being away, but I guess you get used to it. I'd always spend time with the ones like me, a kind of family. We'd usually be spending it getting drunk on whatever was still around, but there were a few times we did the traditional procession of las posadas in the days leading up with whatever we could find. It was pretty nice. You?
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I like Christmas day. It's the day everything settles down for a little while. It just feels like a whole blur until the end of January for me.
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there's something outside your door.
[a gift bag containing a jacket that would have fit Héctor in life, but is too large for his skeletal self, and one of the phallic Santa figurines he carved last year.]
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[Usually, he's still mourning his failures after Día de Muertos until some member of los Olvidados comes to drag him out of a shack for Christmas day drinking in an effort to break his depressive fog.
And speaking of that, he looks on the message with some surprise, rising up to head for the door. He hopes it tentatively, wondering if he'll actually see Garrett there. He doesn't. But there on the front step is indeed something.
He pulls the jacket out first and he marvels at it. It's big enough he can wear it over what he already has, and why not? It'll be a way to warm his old bones. Once it's hanging off his shoulders, he hugs to himself just a little.
And then he sees the second gift and chokes on a laugh, a bewildered one. He carries the gift bag back inside.]
Are you still making those things?
Thank you, Garret. The jacket is really nice.
I wish I had thought of something for you. Have you been well? Since I left?
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barry insisted we keep it. he called it his favorite decoration that he'd ever seen in his life
[Seeing it is a little painful- but he's rather proud of himself for being able to let go of it without breaking down.]
i've been alright, other than the exciting trend of everyone going insane. what about you? anyone turn crazy on you lately?
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[Well. That cuts.]
You don't want to keep it? Are you sure?
[He is not going to give that thing nearly the same amount of love. But on that note...]
Not really. The craziest one right now is me. Vanya lost her memory of me. I haven't really seen you or any of the others for various reasons.[Like Squalo's whole breakdown thing, Dodger being Dodger, Garrett being afraid...] I know more but no one's really that close. So, it's just me and Nekane. We don't really get that weird. We're already as close as we want to be. At least, they haven't freaked out at me yet.
Are you keeping safe? In light of that?
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can you smile? smiling involves lips
how does that work
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It did. And I can smile, yes. I'm made of memory. Expressions are a big part of that. It's why I still move and talk and everything else.
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move into a smile
i'm having some very odd mental images involving lady skeletons and lipstick
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Pity for the ones who like long nails
[ he's decently drunk right now. ]
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It's tricky when you first wake. Disorienting. But it's something everyone's gone through so there's a lot of people ready to help you on your feet. And if you already have family on the other side, you get to meet them and spend time with them again which probably helps even more.
I think some people just do fake nails, like in the living world, or paint their bones.
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[Héctor has family, everyone knows that. What the...]
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[But, given that he hasn't the faintest idea who they were, if they were counting on his memory, they were long forgotten.]
All of my family was in the land of the living, so, I was on my own for a good while until I moved to shantytown.
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Look, I know it sounds bad, but it's not like that. They're good people. We're all dead, so no one's starving or suffering. We stick together and we're a family. It's no stupid colonial tower but we're set up by the water and by the ruins and we're the first to see the sun rises, you know, it's nice.
[Sorry, Garrett, he's a little sore over how often people snub his home and the people there.]
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but he's still Suspicious]
is it a common place for people without family waiting? having a community of your own sounds lovely
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[And now he's back to stalling on the hard parts.]
I don't know if I'd say it's for anybody waiting, exactly. More that they've stopped waiting.
My afterlife doesn't last forever. It's based on memory, connection. It lasts for however long you're remembered in the living world and if your stories are passed down. If anyone's still putting up your picture after you're gone. When people are no longer remembered, our energy fades with the memory. If there's nothing holding you in the living world and you have no family in the land of the dead to go to and stay with, then, you go to shantytown. And then everyone's your family.
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W H A T ]
so
wait
nobody was
what the fuck
[ wHAT HAPPENED TO FAMLIY ]
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I
was disowned.
Yeah.
They never put up my photo so I couldn't visit on the day of the dead and they didn't talk about me so
Nobody knows who I am.
My wife lived until sometime in the seventies and I waited for her and she
did not
want to see me.
For obvious reasons when more of the family crossed over
I did not meet them.
But, I was already being forgotten, so, I was already living in shantytown anyway.
My daughter's still alive.
She's very old now.
She
Well
Like I said, my afterlife is over and that's why I'm here.
I'm forgotten.
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There are so many parts of that he wants to yell at- like the foremost obvious travesty of Héctor "I love my wife and my beautiful daughter" Rivera being disowned by his family. Or the question lurking in his mind about whether Garrett misjudged him- but no, no, that's impossible. Then there's the entire horror of fading out of existence as people forget you, but-]
how could anyone forget you? you're
[Too good for any of these terrible places, and too good for the people who rejected him.
Probably.]could that happen to you here?
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