Calacala calavera la noche invita los muertos bailan con mi canción

[unpocoloco]

WHO: Héctor OTAs, MUSIC CLUB, and anyone wandering in on the Día De Muertos mingle
WHERE: Around Soliel and campus, in an expanded music classroom, and Lumiere Floor Three respectively
WHEN: Through October and into November
WHAT: A BIG LOG MASH UP WITH Héctor preparing for the day of the dead, MUSIC CLUB MINGLE, and a Día De Muertos mingle
WARNINGS: The big spoilers, nothing much else atm

A Helping Hand

The set up starts early in the month. Acquiring all the needed items to properly fill out the ofrenda while staying in France means a lot more care is required in hunting things down, ordering early, and begging the french chefs of Daybreak to make orders for copious tropical fruits not typically sold. Finding a florist who will go the extra mile to acquire the flowers they need proves even harder, never mind one who will get the sheer amount. At least, worst-case scenario, Imelda's always got some cempasuchils on hand.

At any given time in his waking evening hours, Héctor can be seen trying to haul boxes this way and that. The healing done on his bones is weakening a little, his leg starting to give him problems again. Perhaps one wants to give him a hand.


Calaveritas de Azúcar

In the days leading up to the Imelda may likewise be busy. There's a lot to cook and prepare after all. Nevertheless, Héctor tries not to leave all the work to her. It's rare to see him doing anything with food, but he seems to be working with a sticky white paste of some kind. It's evident what it's for once he's finished working all the molds into shape. Eventually, he's managed to shape several blank white sugar skulls. There are tubes of colored frosting and decorative pieces featuring ribbons and candied flowers and gems. There's an empty chair at the table where he works.


Las Flores

la Toussaint isn't something he'll be witnessing this year, technically. He's got too much tend and mind, not to mention actual school business. But with all his ties to the dead, his family lost and the ghosts he only just learned he could see this year, he heads out one night near the day, hauling as many flowers as he can-- the kind that are easier to find around France, the tiny little mums that come by the barrel. He couldn't come for the official grave sweeping, his schedule being what it is, but in a way, that's for the best. It means that he doesn't have to pretend he isn't chatting with every spectral figure he can, opting for Spanish when English gains no understanding and doing the best he can with French from there. He lays out the flowers over the graves and settles with his guitar. In honor of Old Garcie, he plays La Vie En Rose for the spirits lingering there and any other requests he knows how to play.

He does the same at both gravesites but lingers for a longer time at the one in the forest, holding the graves of the forgotten. He can be found throughout the night.


Music Club - [MINGLE BELOW]

It's been a long time coming and it's nothing if not ambitious with all he's set out to do this month, but The Music Club gets its official opening. Posters go up around the school to advertise the event. It's advertised as a club for musicians and music aficionados, a space for people to play together, offer and receive lessons, share and discuss any musical interests with one another, and simply enjoy music.

For the first meeting, an expanded music classroom has been taken over, reinforced with runes for better acoustics. Storage closets line the walls with just about every kind of instrument, plenty of spares available to be borrowed, not to mention electronic equipment for mixing and sampling. It is a wealthy school after all. There's even an enclosed side room for anyone who might like to go a little crazy on the drums, or practice matching the high notes of their favorite singers.

The main central floor is quite large, open to fit a number of instruments and the people playing them. Chairs are stacked on the side, available to be used or kept out of the way depending on the type of practice that's happening. Club participants could even turn it into a game of musical chairs if games of musical trivia are a little too serious for their tastes.

One corner has been arranged into something of a lounge area with bean bags and comfier seating, mats, rugs, and pillows around on the floor. An old fashioned record player has been hauled in to sit in the corner, a less-old-fashioned boombox with CD player near to it. There's a selection of headphones to borrow and listen more privately if one wishes. There's also a set up of the infamous video game; Rock band.

A board on one wall advertises lessons, who's teaching them and what instrument they teach, and when those lessons are available, as well as the dates and times for any upcoming personal performances. There's even space just for some interesting concerts in the area people would like to invite others to join.

A selection of snacks and drinks have been lain out for those attending. There are also name tag stickers featuring musical notes, with little notes suggesting people add their favorite song to the sticker as well.


Día de Muertos - [MINGLE BELOW]

Halloween and October pass on by, one man working on setting up into the night, and one woman busy at work in the day as the rest of Daybreak wraps up their festivities. By the late afternoon of Día De Muertos, floor three has been completely taken over.

Tables have been pushed to the wall, covered, and made into a massive ofrenda. Lain out over a delicate tablecloth, framed photos of various people sit. Gifts and trinkets are lain with the pictures, amongst spilling piles of marigolds, fruits, breads, and other foods. Sugar skulls sit with the pan de muertos, along with offerings of water and other drinks. The fruits pile on the floor. Fuschia cockscombs, purple orchids, yellow chrysanthemum, and white amaryllis settle in vases not claimed by the cempasuchils. Candles burn bright upon the table, many plain but a few with the image of the cross or the Virgin Guadalupe. Burning with them are sticks of incense and dishes of copal. Set apart is a dish of fresh earth and a plate of salt. Amongst it all are cheery statues of grinning Catrinas and Calacas in suits and a few small toys for any young spirits around the school. Although not traditional, an alebrije or two has made its way into this ofrenda, mostly in thanks to the spirit guides Imelda works with, such as Pepita who presides over the festivities. Over it all is a great arch of marigolds. Elsewhere around the room, Papel Picado hangs above, along with strings of purple and yellow paper chains.

Another table sits aside from it all, cluttered with candles and flowers and food, but to a lesser degree than that of the ofrenda. The food there is cooked fresh and made for the living; tamales, calabaza tacha, atole, champurrado, hot chocolate with cinnamon, conchas, mole, and countless items more. It's really all too much for one person alone and so guests and passerbys are encouraged to take more than their share.

(There is also a small cake, set aside specifically for Maverick. A few wrapped gifts sit on this smaller side table, decorative paper strings hung around it.)

The Karaoke machine is in its same place on the floor, though it's hardly the only music for the evening. Besides Héctor himself, quieter music in the Spanish language drifts about the common area, interspersed with lively mariachi style recordings. There's just enough space to dance if one wanted to.

Anyone with an awareness of ghosts may find a few stopping in to visit the party. Whether or not that the case for every visitor, everyone is welcomed to leave an offering or even a photo on the ofrenda if they wish-- things can be hard on the magic side of the world and sometimes loss can creep very close. Despite that, the celebration is a joyous one. Anyone close enough to the Riveras is invited into Lumiere's third floor commons for the evening and even those simply curious as to what's going on are allowed to stay if they wish.

It's very carefully hidden, and it'll only be found by those who look-- and know where to look for that matter, but there's a smaller unframed photo of Héctor himself tucked in amongst the ofrenda's flowers. Next to it is a very small bag of chapulines.

When night falls, the celebration begins.

(Later into the night, for those who stay that long, a laptop is pulled out, two identical men and one teenage girl waving out from the screen, speaking rapidfire Spanish. The room behind them has been done up with as much extravagance.)

Comments

[Non-Mingles]

[unpocoloco]

A

[improbablenotimpossible]

He knew he wasn't in his right mind then, but he couldn't help but feel culpable, which made things awkward as he tried to figure how to apologize to him in specific - when he notices someone struggling with a box.

He reaches, holding it steady. "Steady there..."

[unpocoloco]

It's not that he's forgotten the events of the hunt. He hasn't. It would be very, very hard to. But, he's faced worse horrors and had to move on from those. And besides that, he's really too busy to think about anything. It may have slipped his mind to bring the topic up.

The box is caught just as it's about to slip from his hands. He exhales relief through his teeth.

"Ay, thank you, I thought I was about to lose everything there," He peers around the box. "Oh! ¡Hola, Arthur!"

[improbablenotimpossible]

"Ah, this box really is quite heavy," The vampire noted curiously. "So where are you heading off to with this?" He asks, internally steeling him for the conversation later, but he's glad to see that man seems to be holding up all right.

Flores

[trademark_skull]

[Emizel was not exactly sure how to take in all these holidays. It wasn't like anyone was rising the dead, again, so there's that. But celebrating them was something completely new. To reapers, souls of the dead just signified work. It'd be like trying to throw a party for your spreadsheets and forms. ...So what did actually make it so special? He wanted to figure out.]

[Visiting a graveyard was one of the first things to do, after most had already left - humans and all, don't really want to deal with them and blending in took too much effort. Sure enough, it was bustling with spirit activity. More than he's ever seen in one place anyway. It was a sight to behold.]

[It sure didn't take long for a couple ghosts to come his way, the less 'lively' ones. Emizel looked back at them and then to his blue flame, which they seemed to transfixed on the most. He lets out a sigh because of course this would be the time for it to happen.]

[...But not today. He lifted the flame up and stuffed the whole end of his hood down the neck collar. Somehow this doesn't hurt him at all, though it was a bit awkward. And it should muffle out most of the light that no other spirits got the wrong idea.]

[Not a day for reaping. Just exploring.]

[...]

[Okay why can he also hear music further in? He thought there would be no one else here by now.]

[unpocoloco]

[The music continues to drift out. There are pauses, the spaces between songs in which voices fill the space, particularly the closer in one gets. Soft tones and brighter requests and quiet laughs. More music follows, a Spanish accent working its way around french-spoken lyrics, but the guitar plays without fault.]

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore, Serait-ce possible alors?

[In the clearing several spirits sit, gathered around, leaning on and against their headstones. In the midst of it all sits a man. A sunken face and chipped teeth, he'd seem otherwise normal except for the way he occasionally lights up, markings glowing under his skin. His fingers, moving along the frets, sometimes go to bone and then back again, trailing shimmering dust through the changes. It's something that delights a younger spirit there, one whose breath catches and makes him smile in turn.

He's almost neared the end of the song, when a new presence joins them. He double-takes and nearly stops. His still heart is in his throat.]

... Hola.

[trademark_skull]

[...Well this is awkward. It's understandable for the spirits and dead to be afraid of him - they should be and it was exactly the kind of thing Emizel would have wanted. But they were also just listening to music and not...really doing any harm. Something about this kind of left a sting, for some reason.]

...Hey. [He acknowledges back, quietly. Very subtly taking a step back as though not to intrude much further. ...He can keep playing, if he wants.]

[Music Club Mingle]

[unpocoloco]

[unlogic]

[Desidera is one of the first to arrive. With not knowing if the time that had been advertised was the time people were expected to start showing up or if it was when things were actually starting (as if there were any particular difference), she had opted to err on the side of caution and went ten, maybe fifteen minutes early.

Until anyone else does arrive, she spends her time mostly looking around, looking to see what exactly has been set up here, until she finds the table with the name tags. She doesn't yet write a favorite song onto hers, mostly because she doesn't particularly have an actual favorite song, just favorite genres.]

[unpocoloco]

[A lot happened that night but he hasn't forgotten the girl he'd try to help. Desidera, she'd written, and the name matches up, as well as the description he'd been given before. He's glad to see her. He'd never actually found out what became of her after all that.

He walks over and holds out a hand, his guitar behind his back.]

Desidera? Hola. I don't know if you remember me, I'm Héctor. We talked once on the network. Have you been doing alright since then?

[unpocoloco]

Héctor might come in a little late, but but he does the best he can. He finds himself a seat with his guitar and fills out his own tag, slapping it on. My name is Héctor Rivera and my favorite song is Besame Mucho.

He greets those who walk in even later. "¡Hola! Welcome!"

He's quick to post up his own offers for lessons; guitar, writing and reading music, even a few other instruments.

Once he's sure there will be no more stragglers, he calls out to the group.

"¡Bienvenidos a todos! Welcome to music club. I was thinking since this is our first meeting this semester, perhaps we can all share a little of what music means to us personally, including the kind of things we like to play or listen to. Just by being here we know we've all got something in common so lets take the time to get to know one another!"

[ooc: Feel free to talk to have your character talk to him personally or jump in other people's threads!]

[heartofasamurai]

Seiji sits a few chairs away from Héctor, waiting for his turn to speak. He may look tired, but he is engaged. He has enjoyed this so far, experiencing music with others in a different way than he has before.

"Music influences the mind and the soul. It provides clarity or may color your perception. It can be a powerful tool for meditation." A clean simple response. Direct. Impersonal? "I play the bamboo flute, but have considered learning another as a challenge to myself."

[prince_type]

[A music club had caught Tamaki's interest almost immediately, being quite a fan despite how he may look. He's pretty early to all of this madness, quietly picking up a name tag to put on with favorite music merely having a shrug kaomoji on it. Because he's an adult he's not actually that can make his own choices!

But he's distracted from that quickly enough as he goes to inspect the nearest piano, fingertips brushing over the keys and watching the area around him for a few minutes until he determines no one is interested in messing with it for now.

Which means he's absolutely going to test the tuning on this thing and get a little carried away in his own thoughts.

Feel free to interrupt him, or wait until he's done. Either way, he's a chatty asshole when he wants to be.]

[unpocoloco]

[There isn't a chance he's about to interrupt the song. It starts and it draws him over, lulling and enchanting in the way the musicians of the plaza did to him when he was young. It's a sort of magic that reaches deep, and one that was real to him far sooner than the magic of this side of the world.

It's a melancholic tune, but a sweet as well. His eyes close to see long-missed sunny days, light dancing between the leaves of a tree. Of city bustle but in a quiet, simple way, like the downtown areas of soliel.

He leans nearby and listens to it all. When it ends, there is faint and satisfied sigh from him before he walks up properly.]

That was beautiful. A cover? Or a composition?

[heartofasamurai]

[Seiji had not thought of himself as someone who would join a "music club," considering his typical interests and extracurricular activities before coming to Daybreak Academy. He enjoys music and uses his flutes almost daily now, but it was something he practiced--trained--in the home. He had never even discussed it at school before enrolling here.

After Toki left and the debate club was suspended, Seiji decided to look for something else.

So he wears his name tag politely, assesses different instruments set out for them, and even brings a CD his younger sister had purchased for him of flute and harp duets to share. Because she at least knew he would have taken far too long to learn how to play the music on his smartphone when he first purchased it.

Admittedly, he has been intrigued watching people play Rock Band, having little familiarity to most of the music on it. Is it actual training or merely a game?]

Does this game provide real lessons or merely entertainment?

[unlogic]

Just the latter, I think?

[Desi's been watching as well, making what sense of it she can; her exposure to video games before had been fairly limited and was almost entirely retro. Seiji may be picking up a sense of curiosity here.]

It looks like you're supposed to go along with what gets shown on the screen. Pressing specific buttons with the right timing, basically. [Well, buttons would apply to the guitar controllers. The game's drums seem to be just a little closer to the real deal, but only a little.]

[lastexit]

*Maya put her cello down next to a sofa... and then collapsed into said sofa. Her nametag is on her cello case. Just her first name 'Maya' and her favorite song. 'Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley.'*

*So maybe her sense of humor isn't dead. She is not playing her cello right now, just laying there listening as people mill about. She'll talk if she hears a sound she knows, or a sound that interests her.*

[unpocoloco]

[Don't mind him, once the group is gathered and settling, he's just going to collapse down beside her, a bright smile on his face. His head tilts to read the stick on the cello case.]

Never gonna give you up, huh? Good song. I wouldn't have guessed it's your favorite.

[He doesn't seem to realize anything's up.]

[Día De Muertos Mingle]

[unpocoloco]

Héctor | OTA

[unpocoloco]

A

With all the work done, he and Imelda can finally relax. And by relax, he, of course, means dance and sing and play into the night. He's done something different for the Holiday, pulling out costume makeup and taking great care to do it all right so that on his face, a skull is painted, featuring the same markings in all the same colors that hide beneath his skin. He makes his way on to Lumiere's third floor with a wide grin that doesn't falter for a moment. At any given time he can be found dancing to music or else playing music of his own by the ofrenda.

B

He didn't come for himself alone. Although Imelda's mage family has never been the fondest of him, he still regales stories he can, and he's got a thing or two to add himself. He has no pictures, his familia in the outlands having no means to photograph themselves, but he's drawn up images instead, symbolic pictures of Outland flowers, favorite pieces of clothing, anything to remind of those lost. He lays them out among the photos, as well as an old green hat like Garcie wore. For all those people, he's got plenty of stories and softer looks as well.

C

He tries to be careful throughout the evening. No talking to the dead while people who don't know about him are in the room. No seeking out his own photo. He has to wait until only those who know he's dead are around, just in case.

But, as soon as he's able, he's reaching over eagerly, pleased just to see he's made it on here. And surprised to find he really has been left an offering. He laughs light and reaches out for it to. Only to find something strange happen.

He looks from the offering still on the ofrenda, to the thing in his hand. An identical copy of the chapulines, glowing orange. Just like the Outland flower he and his familia could pull drinks from. He somehow manages to grin even wider.

"No way! HaHA!" In his jubilance, he finds a seat and tears at the glowing offering, opening it up and immediately popping a handful of the chapulines in his mouth. And then he looks up to the ceiling, eyes welling with emotion. He whispers, "This is the best day."

D

Once late evening rolls around he's sat before that laptop, fixed and focus on the teenage girl who speaks through it. They talk and laugh and he smiles with overwhelming love in his eyes. But for anyone who wishes to be introduced or otherwise pull him away to speak with him, he complies.

D

[spelleton]

Ekkehardt doesn't interrupt him; he's content to hover for the moment. He's not going to take away Héctor's family time; this is his daughter, after all.

(He still remembers, saying he'd intruded on a private moment. A small flash, unintentional, of a side Héctor rarely - if ever - displays.)

Eventually, though, during a lull in conversation, he does speak up.

"So this is the famous Coco? I've heard quite a bit about you."

C

[deuteranope]

Oh, my birthday is the best day? Who fucking coulda guessed!

[He's still working his way through the slice of cake he took earlier, having had to take breaks in order to deaden the sweetness. Like he wasn't gonna fucking eat a cake brought for him, though. Psh.

Maverick takes the seat next to him and gives the spectral food a curious look. At least they've already talked a little about this sort of thing so he doesn't have to be too weirded out.]

It works, then, the offering thing? Just like that?

D

[hawkwardness]

[Halloween holds little interest for him these days. Definitely not wearing a costume, and he can get himself some candy any time. Probably mountains of it, if he just asks, the way certain people behave in the school. He's grown out of it, he supposes, after the things he's seen and done.

So the only holiday related things he's doing tonight are all about the Riveras' special night, popping in and out between studying in his own dorm. Héctor getting to eat real food was pretty nice, much more special than Tobias getting candy or whatever--enough to put a smile in his mental voice.

When he flutters back in after an hour of napping... well, he finds another pleasant surprise.]

< Oh! Hi, Coco. Sorry, I didn't realize it was that time of night. >

OTA (Kit Edition)

[hattersgonnahat]

[Well now. It seems somebody was feeling a little more confident about being seen...]

[He had only ventured to Lumiere to explore for a bit, before he could hear that something very clearly was happening a few floors up, but what..? Was it why the common room was empty and dark down here?]

[Kit peered in from the staircase when he got to the third floor. He could see...vibrant colors, lights, food, all of it. He ventured in slowly, wondering if he was supposed to be here or not.]

What is all this..? [It wasn't English, given it wasn't really directed at anybody; but thinking aloud.]

[unpocoloco]

[He looks up when he hears the new voice. With most of the living here at least speaking english somewhat, a foreign language meant they might have a ghostly guest. And, well, he's not entirely off there.

He beams and gets to his feet, arms spread wide in welcome.]

Kid! ¡Bienvenidos!

[His face has been painted to match the patterns of the skull beneath his skin.]