[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

[epiprocta]

[ 'Everything I loved was gone.'

A terrible, cold feeling seeps through his chest at that, like frost creeping through his veins. Gen's gaze goes distant, Abel's words dragging his thoughts to someplace very vivid and terribly painful, and it's only the sound of that glass tapping against the counter that drags him back to reality. He gives just enough of a visible start that Abel must be able to tell something he'd said had hit a sore spot for Gen. Not to mention the way he silently steps forth to oblige that request, taking up the whiskey bottle to refill Abel's glass without complaint. But if Abel might need any more indication that Gen is taking his words to heart, maybe he'll find it in the way Gen asks quietly, ]

And how do you come back from something like that?

[ It's a slip of the tongue he doesn't even realize. 'How do you,' he asks, not 'how did you.'

Because while he's not Abel, and he hadn't been the one to destroy what little he treasured back in his hometown, it's still true that he's lost everything he thought he loved. Even before his arrival here in Horos heralded the ending of his homeworld, it had all slipped out of his grasp.

Abel must know, right? If Abel is being honest about all this -- and despite how much effort he puts into his pretense at doubt and suspicion, Gen knows he probably is -- then he must know how difficult coming back from that is. Isn't the desire for oblivion be so much more comforting at that point? ]

[inutilis]

[ it's the almost distracted manner with which his unspoken request is answered that draws Abel's gaze from the glass on the bar to the boy refilling it.

...the look in Gen's eyes mirrors the absent affect demonstrated by his ministrations, and Abel can tell he has indeed struck a nerve. what he's said resonates somewhere in Gen, right? it's the reason Abel had divulged this in the first place; it isn't as though the priest makes a habit of speaking on such personal, painful matters for good fun after all.

but there is no sense of victory or accomplishment. to see the pain resonate this way with Gen adds another layer of grief to Abel's eyes and his shoulders slump in a meager expression of that melancholy. ]

You don't.

[ it is important to recognize things as they are. perhaps a kinder man than Abel would offer a placating lie or soften the edges of his delivery.

but he feels the only way it can be said is bluntly, callously, and with unflinching honesty. any other explanation would be an insult to the gravity of it all and might give either of them wiggle room to lighten the heaviness of its weight. ]

There are some things there is no coming back from. All you can do once you've reached that point... is make a choice for yourself, Gen.

[ this above all is most grave, most important to impart. ]

You decide if you've lost enough, that it's time to change - or you continue burning through it all until there's nothing left. Including yourself.

[epiprocta]

[ Would that be so bad, he wonders. Would it really be so bad if he let himself be incinerated to ashes alongside everything else he's lost? It's not even like he knows what he's living for, any more. Is it so wrong that a non-insignificant part of him actually longs for the restful peace that would come with oblivion?

'So what if I'm alive,' Abel might remember Gen having said back in Venera. And that same sentiment still holds true now -- he'd meant those words back then, and not just because of the raw wounds opened by the Innocence's effects. Gen is quiet in the face of Abel's grim statement, offering little reaction at first save a distant stare and a quiet exhale.

Finally, all he can offer is a low mutter. ]

Good for you, then.

[ He finishes his whiskey and puts the glass down; he's done drinking, he's not in the mood for any more. ]

You had the chance to make that choice and you made the right one.

[ Because that's easier said than done. Making that choice. Getting to make that choice. Abel can say what he wants, but ... Gen can't help lingering over the grim thought that that choice will never be one he gets to make. That sort of freedom is something that's never been granted to him even back in his shitty hometown; how can he pretend to have that agency here, in the middle of a war? His path has always been decided for him, and it's a question of whether he's strong enough to continue adhering by it. (But ... funny how he thinks he'll have a hard time forgetting what Abel said, those words coming back to him when he struggles to sleep at night. Funny how it's always a little harder than he expects, brushing off Abel's stupid idealistic sentiments.) ]

... was that all you wanted to say?

[inutilis]

[ Gen drains the last of his whiskey and, notably, does not pour for himself again. Abel can see that the boy is reaching his limitations - both for what he can stomach of the alcohol and of this conversation, but...

of course, Abel is not ready to leave the matter be until his point is made. ]

If I had made the right one when it was offered to me, then... I don't know I'd be sitting here right now.

[ it isn't self-deprecating, nor does his voice carry any sort of ire or imbalance. it is as calm and matter-of-fact as it has been prior. Abel's life certainly would've taken a much different course had he listened to any number of the warning signs, taken any of the forks in the road that had been offered to him. he has no one but himself to blame for that decision, and he will lay it out thusly. ]

But I didn't.

I didn't choose... anything. Time and time again, I could've-- could have stopped, could've turned around, could've made a better choice, any choice, but I didn't. I felt like I had no option, no agency of my own, until it was too late.

[ Gen feels like he is trapped.

obligation; love; a misguided sense of duty; a twisted desire to protect those precious to him - Abel sees all of those things in this boy standing behind the bar, his already dark eyes so shadowed and burdened despite his short life. he has been made to do, to see, things no one his age should. he has been pushed so far into a corner that every opportunity to flee looks like a trap, and is that surprising? how many times had he been beaten back down for attempting to detangle himself from his circumstances, to try anything other than the defense mechanisms that he'd learned?

...Abel cannot help but feel an intense need to pull him out of there, to stop this cycle before it continues to perpetuate and pushes this child to do something that will irrevocably shatter him forever. that's where he's headed, isn't it? on a road that leads to a painful, tragic end - for everything he loves and then himself. ]

I thought that, after Venera, maybe you might understand that feeling better than most. I don't understand how you got to where you are, but-- I don't want to see what happens next if something doesn't change.

I don't want to see where this ends for you. I want you to have a future. I think... you could, if you wanted one. One of your own choosing.

[epiprocta]

[ Gen leans back against the counter behind the bar, studying the tiny beads of liquid left in his empty cup. When he speaks, his voice is low and listless, almost like he's speaking more to himself, than to Abel. ]

It's not like everyone gets to have a future like that.

[ A future of their own choosing, one where freedom is even an option. Some people are granted that good fortune, but Gen knows he's not one of them. Even if he might have been able to make a choice like that back when he was much younger ... it's too many years now that he's spent as a creature boxed in by duties and obligations. And having given up on the option of freedom for years now, all he'd wanted in return were promises of loyalty from the people he loved.

Turns out he really should know better than to have any expectations. He's learned that lesson now. And he's reluctant to let Abel sway him into making the same mistake again.

There's a heavy pause before he looks away to screw the whiskey bottle's top back on. Not because he cares about the state of the bottles in this bar, but simply to keep his hands occupied, to make it clear he's reaching his limits regarding how much of this conversation he can take. ]

And you're not making sense. You're saying you didn't make any choice, you didn't do the right thing, you've hurt people -- but you're here like this, aren't you. You seem fine anyway to me.

[ Or as fine as anyone can be in this wretched place. It hasn't escaped his notice that everyone brought to Horos seems to be fucked up in one way or another, and he doesn't doubt that Abel probably has his own damage. But if he's capable of freely acting like a dunce when the mood strikes him, he can't be that damaged, right? (But for some reason, he can't feel fully at ease with that conclusion, despite having reached it himself.)

There's the thunk of glass as he roughly sets the bottle back where he'd found it, digging through his pockets for a few more jools; the last thing he wants is to cause trouble for Amos because he didn't pay enough at some sketchy backalley bar and have that fuss follow him back to the Machining guild. Not to mention, that motion gives him a further excuse to look away from Abel as he continues, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. ]

... you were the one who insisted on butting into my business. You're free to look away whenever you want. [ 'You can abandon me whenever you'd like.' ] I [ can't ] didn't promise you anything. Change, or whatever. ... it's all easier said than done.

[ Though maybe Abel can find some solace in the fact that Gen even bothers making that comparison. 'Easier said than done.' Because he can't completely shut out the nauseating thought that -- maybe there's the tiny sliver of a chance, somewhere, that he'll be able to make a choice. Sometime, somewhere, he'll have an opportunity to change things. And maybe at that time, the outcome will depend on how hard he claws and fights for that chance. Maybe. ]