[open] some Kenoma come up to Godsblood the other day...

[baltimores]

WHO: Amos, Gen, Eustace, Childe, any Pleroma
WHAT: Amos wants a gun, Eustace wants to make a portal, and in order to make it happen they go to...
WHERE: Godsblood.
WHEN: Towards the end of Visoseri/start of Soviseri
WARNINGS: None, unless you count bullying of various Pleroma; will add as necessary


The content of this entry is intended to be an OOC explanation of what's going on to keep everyone up to speed; any characters who may be in Godsblood during this time period are free to top level or tag out. This is not an event and simply a unique instance that some characters are kinda sorta technically in enemy territory, which opens itself up to thread opportunities that would not otherwise be possible.

Basically: four Kenoma are journeying up to Godsblood, albeit not all together and through different means.

Amos and Gen will be arriving via a boat directly from Achamoth, and accordingly, will be outed as Kenoma Aions right from the get-go — the populace should know who they are, and word of their arrival would likely get around. Amos is there because he wants to build a higher quality gun than what they have in Achamoth and Godsblood is the place to do it; Gen is there to serve as backup/moral support/because they're friends, okay. Story plotting link here for more details.

Eustace and Childe will be sneaking in via carriage from the Artisan shrine/a portal and will therefore not be known as Kenoma Aions upon entry to Godsblood — unless there are characters there who already know who they are, that is. Eustace is setting up a portal to facilitate travel between Achamoth and Godsblood. This is not public knowledge and non-Kenoma Aions/NPCs are unlikely to know about this. Story plotting link here for more details.

The mods have also provided some guidelines for how interactions could go between characters so that any Pleroma wouldn't necessarily have to out themselves as Aions when it comes to interacting with Amos or Gen, who are publicly declared as such. Highlighting what was said further down in Amos' plotting comment:

It wouldn't be unreasonable for a visiting Aion to be chatting up people within Godsblood so sharing a meal ... wouldn't be a dead give away, but it might tie them to the Aions on the rumor network if they do it in public. Whether they are just strangers Gen and Amos are dining with or whether they are connected to Achamoth won't be clear, but it would definitely have implications ... It's definitely a risk, at any rate.

As for meeting in a busy street or a public park the connection is still possible but a lot less likely, since the odds of them chatting up some rando in the park is a lot more likely than sitting down for dinner with them. It'd also be a lot more obvious if someone was spying on them, unlike a closed environment like a pub or eatery, so that'd probably be the safest option without going somewhere deserted or private.

Comments

[salvageable]

[ There's no place to go, nothing to do but fight the urge to shrink back as Eustace closes the distance between them to loom over his prone form. Dokja tenses as he blinks his eyes open, not sure what to expect as he nervously stares up at the other man. This is the first time he's revealed what it is he'd done, and the confession sits unpleasantly on his chest. Makes it hard to breathe. He almost wishes for the blame, the judgement, the understanding that Dokja is far beyond help or reason.

But it doesn't come. Instead, he's left staring, wide-eyed, as Eustace tries provoking him. His heart twists in anguish at being told his actions are as good as succumbing to the Kenoma, and he has to swallow down the protest that immediately jumps to his throat. This... isn't at all like that, Dokja frantically thinks. It's true that at the beginning he'd fought, but even back then he'd been so tired of fighting...

And with every day that passes, with every week then month that goes by, Dokja's losing pieces of himself. He had tried to convince himself that by fighting for the Pleroma, he was fighting for the survival of his loved ones left back home, but even that hasn't been enough. The guilt he bears grows heavier and heavier the longer he spends time on his own, and now he's fully submerged in his misery.

Nearly at the very bottom.

Keeping sight of a purpose has fallen to the wayside. He recognizes that now as he's called out on it. But more than that realization comes the shock of what it is that Eustace is saying to him. Even with such pointed, jagged words, even while in such a vulnerable state, Dokja looks right past it all. Or... maybe he forces himself to in order to avoid what he has yet to answer. ]

Eustace... Why are you with the Kenoma?

[ Along with its service as a subject change, it's a question that he's been meaning to ask. They've known each other for some time now, spent a notable amount of time together, and never once had it struck Dokja that Eustace was fully committed to the side he stands on. ]

Is it really that bad? The world you come from.

[lockedon]

[ He doesn't expect for the conversation to be turned back on him.

It shows; his head jerks back half a centimeter, his shoulders tense under the stretched fabric of the shirt, and his single visible eye widens ever so slightly before he leashes that brief sputter of emotion and reins it back in. Still, it's obvious Dokja's hit a nerve. ]

That's none of your concern.

[ His voice is back to being curt, unfriendly, the expression on his face closed off once more.

Of course, just because he's back to how he always is on the outside doesn't mean everything is fine and dandy on the inside. Despite his cool exterior, there's a thrum of uncertainty that echoes through him. Why had he joined the Kenoma? It'd been so obvious, once upon a time. To find answers while having time and resources on his side, and if having to turn a blind eye to certain crimes being committed was the price to pay for those resources...well, it's not like he hadn't made the same choice all those years ago. But it's been months now and he's found nothing, only the persistent dig of growing doubt in the pit of his stomach and a growing melancholy over losing everything he'd ever cared for once again.

Had it really been that bad? The world he'd come from?

Of course not. There isn't a day that goes by where he doesn't think about blue skies, the wind across his cheeks, the constant chatter that rings across the deck of the Grandcypher. Loud but strangely not annoying, the rare times he'd managed to be onboard long enough to hear it. For a time, he thought that he might have

It's gone now. He can't protect what's already gone, not his family and not his world. And now the only thing left he still feels obligated to protect is already on the side of the Kenoma.

Abruptly he turns, heading back for the chair where his shirt's been hanging to dry. It's still wet of course, but suddenly the room feels too small, too stifling. He has to leave. ]

Sounds like you're feeling better. I'll be going then.

[salvageable]

[ Oh. This isn't the outcome he'd been expecting, but it makes sense now that it unfolds before his eyes.

What was he thinking? That they'd have a heart to heart? That with a stroke of luck, they'd somehow come to understand each other? The pieces that remain with Dokja shutter closed as Eustace does the same. In the end, they're enemies. No matter what kindness or favors they swap with one another, they work in opposition to the other. This is the way it is, this is the way it will continue to be. It's certainly not new—In fact, it's the oldest story in the history of stories.

And Dokja hates it so much in this moment.

He's quietly stunned by how much he regrets having asked what he had, and a brief look of desperation crosses his eyes once Eustace's back is turned to him. This is it, then. The fear of being alone once again grips at him and Dokja has to fight down the rising panic. He's spent too many hours, days, weeks silently suffocating in this room, and he's soon to return to only having his thoughts for company.

It's terrifying. He's so incredibly frightened by the idea of being alone, especially in this state, but rather than say anything, he presses his lips together and keeps quiet.

He's not worth anything and so he'll ask for nothing.

Once Eustace has his shirt in hand, Dokja pushes himself to sit up. He has to take a second to recover from a mild dizzy spell, but then he's blinking back the focus to his eyes. He could apologize, having so clearly unnerved the other man to the point of fleeing like this, or he could try to play it off. See for how much longer he can keep Eustace around.

... Instead, he chooses option C. ]

Thanks.

[ For tonight. For helping. For being around even if it was short-lived. ]

Get back safe.

[lockedon]

[ He's next to the chair, fingers reaching out and clasping over his still-wet shirt, when Dokja speaks up again. His hand convulses around the fabric at the words, his whole body stiffening once again, though this time at least his face is turned away.

A white hot spark of anger flares inside of him, burning bright for a split second before it fades again. Anger over the fact that Dokja still manages to show sympathy despite his fragile state, but anger mostly over the fact that this man refuses to see the spark of good that's still in him and chooses instead to drown himself in his guilt and self-pity.

But he doesn't say anything, not yet, as he grabs his shirt off the chair in a single swift motion and stalks towards the exit, not once looking back. It's only when he stops momentarily in the doorframe after pulling the door open, his silhouette outlined by the street lamps outside, that he addresses Dokja one last time. ]

I'll accept your concern when you learn to accept it from others.

[ And then the door is closing behind him, a firm click and receding footsteps signaling his departure. ]