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.

[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]

[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?

[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,

[noctiphile]

La Muerte? [He wants to know who that is but he bites his tongue and shakes his head.]

I don't know of anyone by that name. As for the people in charge... [He shrugs half-heartedly.] No one knows. Though the Atroma has been a name bounced around. If there's a way to contact them directly, we've yet to find it.

[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]

There has to be a way, there is always a way.

[He can't just...sit here, waiting. ]

I need to get home right away. My town is in danger.

[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.

[puro]

[Fine. Fine. He exhales. ]

I've done it before, I will do it again.

[He might start...tapping at that window, looking through it contemplatively. ]

What is out there? If you don't mind me asking. [Best be polite, just in case.]

[noctiphile]

[He perks up at that.] What sort of danger?

[theboogieman]

space. mostly emptiness. don't go out without a suit.

there are moons and planets further out.

[seconds later, another message suddenly shows up:]

were you in the land of the dead

[puro]

[This, he has no problem explaining. If it has the slightest chance of getting him out here quicker, he'll explain the hell out of it. ]

A bantito leader is attacking the town with an army. We are small, and not prepared for a battle like that. He'll crush everyone.

[The desperation is coming back. Everyone will die. María, Jaoquín, everyone. And then they'll face a worst after after. ]

[puro]

Are any of those planets Earth?

[That's the planet he needs right now. ]

Two of them, yes. I was in the Land of the Remembered, but I was going...up.

[theboogieman]

no. not yet.

[yeah, sorry. he doesn't like being a bummer, but it's probably better to crush this guy's dreams before they get too big.]

don't know much about these places. is it good you are back?

[puro]

[There is no crushing Manolo's dreams. He's a determined little shit.]

Then I will have to travel to find it.

I'd been given my life back, so I could go to save my town. To be with my best friend and the woman I love. I fought for it. It's good.

Except now I'm here.

[theboogieman]

[there is a somewhat longer pause before his next response appears:]

do not forget what you have accomplished. do not give up.

[puro]

[Manolo gives a soft sound of amusement. When he replies, though, his tone is genuine. ]

Gracias. I don't plan to, not ever.

[Another tap on the window. He needs to find a...ship? Something, to get out of here. He begins to wander the space again, looking for something, anything, that can lead to his release. And, because he's curious:]

Are you trapped here, too?

[noctiphile]

A bantito...

[what the fuck is that. No, nevermind. It's not important. He waves away his curiosity like a pesky fly.] I see. That's a threatening situation indeed. And you would be able to help them if you returned?

[Because sorry bro, but if the rest of your friends aren't prepared for a fight, he really doubts one more person-puppet-whatever he is-will help.]

[theboogieman]

yes.

[and because the other has been very open about things, he feels inclined to share what he otherwise might not have even mentioned:]

trying to get back to la reina de rojo. she needs me. being here is frustrating.

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?

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.