001

[puro]

Who: Manolo and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Today

[The Marsiva is suddenly up one (1) wooden Mexican. One that's looking more than a little disorientated, but it's not due to the sudden change in surroundings. Just a few seconds ago, this guy was dead as a doornail, but not any more. He feels the thudding of his heart in his chest, he draws breath into his lungs for the first time in hours. The gods had held their word, they gave him life. But-

He glances around, finally taking note of his surroundings. After the bright vibrancy of the Land of the Remembered, the spaceship is drab and clinical. There's no wonder in it for him, even if it's no place he could have ever dreamed of before. He puts a hand to his back, his guitar is still there, but both his estoques are gone. Not only is he lost, but he's unarmed, not a good combination. He frowns.]

This isn't San Angel. [This wasn't where he was supposed to be. He can't afford another diversion. His town can't afford one. He needs to get to María, to Joaquín and he needs to get to them now. He glances downwards, raising his voice, panic and frustration seeping in.]

I did everything you asked of me!! We had a deal! You promised!

[He takes in a shuddery breath, his lungs ache from sudden use again, and he realises how tired he is. It's been a really long and exceptionally crappy day and this is the absolute last thing he needs. There's no answer. Not from any of them. Why would they desert him, after everything?]

You promised. Just send me home.

[Ok. Now is not the time to panic. He'll just starting looking for an exit, don't mind him.

Comments

text

[theboogieman]

[...it might take him a while to look back at the screen, but a mysterious text has appeared!]

calm down.

[puro]

[It sure does take a while. He does a couple rounds of the ship (which, in the one room admittedly doesn't take that long) before his eyes focus on the communicator. He doesn't know how he knows that is the word for it, and that's quite frankly terrifying.]

I'll get right on that, disembodied writing.

[Is it one of the gods? He doesn't freaking know. All he does know is that he is one hundred per cent done with mystical shenanigans.]

How do I get back to the Land of the Living? I think I got...lost on the way?

[theboogieman]

[it's no god, but the disembodied writing doesn't exactly give him any reason to think otherwise.]

this is it. you are just very far from home.

[puro]

[Yay. ]

Then how do I get back to San Angel? To Mexico? I need to be there right now.

[Before everything is lost. ]

[theboogieman]

no one knows. if you want out now, you have to find your own way.

[noctiphile]

[Oh, how his heart aches to see this. He can sympathize. Knows that desperation and what it entails. Knows the pain of a hope betrayed by reality, by fate, and perhaps that's what compels him to answer, even if it's with bad news.]

There's no exit. Not from that ship.

[It feels too heavy to say. It's not what he wants. Hope should be replaced, not defeated.] Though, it appears some people are allowed to leave. After awhile.

[Though who knows if they go home.] What was the promise?

[puro]

[Manolo is not one for defeat. No retreat, no surrender. He runs a hand over the window, looking out into the vast emptiness of space, picking up on, as far as he was concerned, the most important conclusion from what he's being told. ]

What do I have to do to be allowed to leave? I completed my trials.

[He wouldn't put it past Xibalba to throw another wrench into the works, though. Damnit. He pauses, unsure. He doesn't know if this guy is just another god or...what. ]

I was promised I could go back. [Back home. Back to life. Same thing. ]

[noctiphile]

I'm afraid the trials never truly end. This one, at least, might be easier. They wish for you to entertain. Like an actor, where the role is yourself.

[He laughs but it's nervous. A placeholder sound more than anything else. Something to ease the air.] Your promise, though, might have been nullified. I haven't heard of such things being kept in this place.

[A beat.] I'm sorry.

[puro]

They? Who is in charge of this realm? Maybe I can talk to them, this has been a mistake.

[Xibalaba would screw him over in a heartbeat, but the others...not as much. ] Is there a way to contact La Muerte? She'll get this straightened out.

[Sure as heck not giving up.] I really can't stay here,

video

[catamite]

[some kid with pointy ears is staring wide-eyed from the nearest screen.

sure, the guy he's watching seems terribly upset, betrayed by the universe and maybe whatever else lies beyond, caught deep in the middle of emotional turmoil... but he also seems to be made out of wood. Nel suspects this might be part of his problem-- if he's even seeing things correctly.]

Hey... are you okay?

[puro]

[Wow, Nel. That is so Wood-ist. So rude.

Manolo takes a steadying breath. He can think his way out of this, if he's careful.]

I'm not supposed to be here.

[catamite]

[even as accidentally judgmental he is against people made out of inanimate substances, he's concerned.]

...Yeah, us too. They kind of take people from wherever.

[puro]

[Such kindness. ]

Is there any way to get back? Any way at all?

video

[treasureling]

You're not home. I'm sorry.

It's all right, though.

[puro]

No, last I checked, there was a lot less space in Mexico.

[A...ha. That's not even funny, Manolo.]

It really isn't. I need to be home.

[treasureling]

You can't be home. We've been kidnapped.

[puro]

There is no such thing as can't. There's always a way.

Action

[innercactus]

.....

[ You are made of wood. Very visibly made of wood. Just like he's very visibly made of wood and leaves. ]

You are not Sylvari.

[ He's not sure how to feel about this. ]

[puro]

[Sure is, and look at you, with all the leaves. He's seen people adorn themselves with metal so much that it rusts into their wood, but leaves is a new thing. He'll offer leaf guy a smile anyway.]

No, I'm Mexican.

[innercactus]

[ You know who has no idea what Mexican is? This guy. ]

Did you come from another Tree? [ Is there a Mexican Tree?

This could explain everything- ]

[puro]

[That's...a really weird question, and Manolo frowns in thought. ]

...I was near a tree? But that was a few hours ago. I don't think I'll come back up by there.

[He did die by a tree. Maybe it's that one? ]

[transferedfate]

[huh... he's made of wood? weird. but not the weirdest.]

For what it's worth, your promise is probably still valid. It's just been put on pause for now.

[puro]

[He will be very glad to know he's not the weirdest. ]

I haven't got time for it to be ...on pause. [What sort of way of saying 'paused' is that. How can you be on a pause? ]

My town needs me. Right now.

[transferedfate]

Trust me, I understand what you mean. [it's been a year but she still makes sure to envision in specific detail what she's going back to]

We've seen that in places like this, they can take us from lots of different timelines. Sometimes you'll meet two people from the same world, but they're from different points in the future or past.

That must mean that the people in charge here have some kind of... time machine, right? [for lack of a better world] I think when we find a way to bust out, we might be able to use it to return to the point from where we were taken.

[puro]

[That...is something he hasn't considered.]

So it will be like no time's passed at all?

[He could get there, he wouldn't be too late. He could save them. ]