EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)

[aionmods]

Sovereign Citizens

GODSBLOOD

At the height of the Sovereign's moon, Vaeka Lovenskol's execution is announced. Outside of the City Hall, a dignitary of Achamoth is flanked by an entourage of Kenoma, reading the words of Regent from an unfurled letter: Vaeka stands accused to conspiring against the Regent and abetting the fugitive menace known as the Pleroma. Though the details are not made public, rumors spread quickly, some far more wild than the actual truth. The full truth, after all, is something only the Regent's agents and the Pleroma themselves know, and even to them the manner of her exposure is unclear.

Though losing a proud daughter of an influential family, there seems to be little that the people of Godsblood can do besides accept it. After all, they are still a city of the Regent's empire, and for all the freedom they've enjoyed, there are limits. If she was truly aiding the Pleroma, the sworn enemies of the Regent - and in an organized manner, if the rumors are to be believed - can they truly object? Or would challenging the Regent's claim simply invite more death?

As with many things, the families of Godsblood are torn. Tensions are thick for the five days leading up to Vaeka's appointed execution by hanging, with everyone having an opinion and few wanting to go on record talking about it too loudly. As such, the people's frustrations come out in other ways. Bloodites are uncharacteristically unfriendly to strangers in this time, keeping to their own and treating everyone else with overt skepticism.

Those that have arrived as part of the Regent's official envoy, or seen guarding Vaeka, will receive a particularly icy reception. No longer are the Kenoma curious wanderers on personal business. Now, they are here as the hands of the Regent; few of the Godsblood citizens are foolish enough to challenge them outright, but they are ever an honest people.

Early on, the Kenoma and the rest of the Achamite contingent sent with them will be able to take over a jail in downtown Godsblood to hold Vaeka until her execution, clearing out all other Bloodite prisoners and employees in the meantime. This means they have a relatively secure position to guard their prisoner from, which is a good thing; after all, the Regent did outright invite the Pleroma to stop them, and Pleroma are nothing if not stubborn.

EXECUTION DAY

After five agonizing days of waiting and several high visible conflicts between the Pleroma and Kenoma, finally the hour of Vaeka's execution arrives. A gallows is set outside of City Hall, ready to welcome its newest victim, and a massive crowd has gathered in an spirit of anxious anticipation. Some worry that violence may break out in the streets, even without the Pleroma's agitation, but gradually the minutes tick by and the gallows remain empty.

First one minutes passes. Then five. Then fifteen. Slowly, it becomes clear to the people of Godsblood that Vaeka will not be arriving. Are the rumors true? Has she been saved? Have the Pleroma been successful, despite all odds?

As the hours pass and the crowds disperse, Vaeka Lovenskol is not officially reported as either living or dead. Fortunately, Godsblood is a place where information has a way of getting around, whether those in charge like it or not. Some are saying that she was seen being whisked away as if by powerful magic, following a bloody fight at the jail in which she was being held. Where did she go? Maybe her supposed connections to the forest people did her good, some surmise.

The days following Vaeka's failed execution carry a strange and uncertain energy. Where before there was tension and distrust, Godsblood now finds itself in a surreal reality where the Regent's word is apparently not absolute. Then again, do they really want a repeat performance?

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Godsblood?
For Pleroma, this is very easy, as they are likely to either already live there or be able to easy take Greentruth's portal. For Kenoma, they may come directly from Achamoth by boat as part of the Regent's envoy or arrive via Eustace's portal which is set up in a shed a fairly long jaunt outside of town. Once there has been some time to get established, Misa will be setting up another portal leading straight to the prison where Vaeka is being stored.

Are the Kenoma permitted by the Regent to kill other Godsblood citizens?
Though the Kenoma are authorized to kill any Bloodites that try to physically fight them, they are expected to keep things clean. The Regent prefers to only punish the guilty, and having the lines be clear will create less of a hassle in the future. Generally, Godsblood is not in a state where physical resistance is likely to happen unprovoked.

Comments

sabotage, day 3

[baltimores]

[ He probably shouldn't be out and about. He just lost a couple of fingers the night before and his palms got cut pretty fucking bad, clean white bandages the telltale sign that something happened there beyond the missing digits. But fuck it, Amos is restless, itching to fucking do something, so after a not-all-that-restful sleep stretching through the morning back out into Godsblood he goes, just like the previous two days.

And it pays off, because he doesn't even need the telltale sign of the Pleroma clinging to Dextera from his shard — he knows that guy. Should be easy enough to grab—

It's while he's looking right at Dextera, advancing right in his general direction, that the trap goes off, and before Amos knows it he's inhaling mushroom spores and what the fuck. What the fuck. He stops moving, trying to get his bearings — why does it feel like the ground is shifting out from under him — why does his body not quite feel like his — and.

He could've sworn Dextera was just right there.

Where the hell did he go, Amos wonders, as the world seems to start to swim around him, and his heart rate starts to tick up in response. ]

[passio]

[ the trap goes off just as dextera planned, though no amount of planning stops the little shiver of anxiety from running up his spine. since he constructed them like the ones he knows, they sound like the ones he knows, and he’s lost his life more than once to an ill-timed detonation, or a misfire as he sought to heal himself only to vitalize the monsters surrounding him instead. he’s failed as many times as he’s succeeded, and that’s partially why he can’t just run—he needs to ensure what happened.

the other part is, of course, that it’s the man he saw in godsblood before. it may have been the regent’s order, and they all explicitly saw that, but dextera can’t help but feel the catalyst lies with amos. maybe the regent wouldn’t have targeted godsblood, wouldn’t have been looking here, had amos not drawn their eye. ]

…rrgh!

[ the frustration from being on such high alert since the regent’s address surges as he takes amos’ stature in full view. maybe he wouldn’t follow through on this impulse, were amos as collected as their first proper meeting—but dextera knows what he must be feeling now, having been through it himself in his various tests. he knows that even if it hasn’t sunk in all the way, the city will soon warp and pulse in unnatural ways that make it impossible to stay grounded.

it’s so, so petty. but instead of taking the opportunity to escape an obvious encounter out of his favor, dextera throws all his weight behind a shove. ]

[baltimores]

[ He could've sworn he heard something, but it feels like he can hear the air itself, every particle up against every other particle—

Something hits him and Amos stumbles forward. It's a miracle he manages to keep his balance, doesn't have to break his fall on injured hands, but he's definitely feeling prone now. The ground sways from underneath his no longer steady feet, the building closest to him looms above at an unnatural curve like it's threatening to either collapse on him due to the unrealistic architecture or reach down and swallow him whole—

Amos turns, looking over his shoulder, behind him, the direction that something came from and blinks, baffled. That's. He knows that guy, right? Things are a little warped now, a little bleary, and narrowing his eyes doesn't seem to help but—

He still tries to plant himself on solid ground, but the way his legs feel weak and it's shifting almost like a small earthquake from under him makes it hard. Either way, though. This is what Amos came out here to do. He came out here to capture Pleroma, and that white aura is so bright it's practically blinding, it didn't always used to be that bright did it, as he reaches out in Dextera's direction, tries to grab him with a newly maimed hand, down his outermost fingers, not even thinking. He's right-handed. Not enough time has passed to get used to the idea. And as long as he can get ahold of Dextera, he's pretty sure he can just apply pressure, keep ahold of him, bring him back with him.

Though on top of the recent injury and displaced sense of being, who even knows how good Amos' depth perception is at this stage, anyway. ]

[passio]

—…

[ dextera is able to get a clean, if unexpected, look at amos’ injured hand. he’s largely kept away from anything and everything involving vaeka’s rescue, but with how fresh the wound seems—at least, he certainly didn’t have it the last time they saw each other—dextera has to assume it was the casualty of an encounter with one of his fellow pleroma.

good, he thinks. it’s an unusually malicious thought, but the blame is easy to direct amos’ way. though the hate he holds may be unfair, it’s true in the moment.

he doesn’t even want to use his sword for this. he has it on him, strapped to his back for a moment’s withdrawal, but it’s his hands he relies on. every time he wakes up anew in front of the tower, all he has are his fists and the purification behind them. with amos increasingly faltering, dextera can surely make his mark.

amos’ hand gets close to him, enough that his remaining fingers drag across the front fabric of dextera’s shirt. rather than ducking out of the way, dextera grabs amos’ arm with both of his hands and squeezes. his frail appearance belies his strength, built up over a few months now of working in the docks of godsblood, but it’s not physical strength he’s summoning. it’ll take him some time, but a heat that will soon be searing builds under his palms. there’s no communion to speak of, not explicitly, but in that grip and between their legacies there’s the distinct conveyance of deep, reckless frustration.

after all, he’s aware he’s only able to even try this because amos is affected by a powder dextera can barely estimate the longevity of. ]

[baltimores]

[ It takes a couple of extra seconds for Amos to realize he's effectively missed — no, more than that, that he ended up giving Dextera an opening. Even before the world had gone sideways on him he'd assumed Dextera was the kind of target who couldn't fight back. Not really, not any more than any other Aion, at least.

When his sensory processing catches up with what's actually happening, it's not pleasant.

Deep, reckless frustration he gets. It's almost comforting, like he's feeding off of Dextera's emotions, helping provide a feedback loop for them. Amos has been recently maimed and the world feels like it's threatening to fold in on around him — at least someone else feels this way.

The burning, though. That earns something of a yelp when it registers, gets to be too hot, and Amos pulls his arm back with as much strength as he can muster, like he's hoping to shake Dextera off as though he were a bug. That's enough to send him off balance, bringing him crashing to the ground right on his tailbone as he looks up with wide eyes, pupils dilating, no clue as to what's real or what. ]

The fuck?

[ It comes out as a pained hiss; what is even happening here. How did he get into this. ]

[passio]

[ even if dextera is aiming to hold on, try as he might, he can’t even dig his blunt fingernails in for an extra angle of pain. his grip slips easily from around amos’ arm; no burn mark is left, only the red imprint of his palms where he was holding on tightly enough to white-knuckle himself.

their separation causes dextera to stumble back with the inertia of it. his logical mind tells him to keep going with that inertia, take the opportunity of amos down on the ground to run without looking back. his logical mind has been telling him this since he first noticed amos’ pursuit, but unfortunately, there are still just a few more things he needs to get out. ]

Ngh!

[ he barely catches himself. with the little bit of distance he did think to practically gain, he rips his own shard out of its place under his clothes and stares back down at amos with a trembling gaze. his voice comes through the power of communion, strong and clear, a parting message when amos is in the space to receive it. ]

You did this!

[ another step back. maybe he is realizing he should run. ]

I hate you! [ it’s so petty. so childish. he knows that. it’s no different than the way he lashed out at the twisted ones who mocked and frightened him when he first awoke, though—and amos is the perfect target for everything that’s built since he arrived. when amos does get to listen, it won’t be just these words. it’s a cacophonous echo of emotions, made ten times more salient by their legacy. ] I want you to die… you and the Regent both! Get away from here!

[baltimores]

[ If it wasn't for their empathic connection, he'd think he was hallucinating all of it.

He wouldn't have known why or where from. The words swirl together as a mixture of nonsense tinged with understanding: he hasn't done anything; he doesn't want the Regent to die; he does hate himself, but it's never come up so explicitly; part of him has always been ready for death, but it's rarely been an active want.

But the mess of those emotions. The way they hit him, and the way he instinctually understands them. There's a lot that goes over his head when it comes to picking up the feelings of other Lovers; there's a lot that never pierce the shell his comprehension. But Dextera's rage and frustration slam into him and a part of him is immediately receptive, curls around it, wants to absorb it into himself. In a way, the clarity it brings is soothing.

Then the rest of him is just confused, enough so that the feeling should rush out to meet the feelings hitting him. Amos stares up without seeing in Dextera's metaphysical direction, where he thinks he can feel all of this coming from. And... what the fuck did he do?

The sound of the air and the particles that make it up dull, quiet. The ground starts to feel steady beneath him. His skin feels almost slick from exertion — a comedown — something — and he distantly brings a hand to wipe at his face. It becomes less distant, the feeling of it clearer, and when he looks up again proper, the buildings are where they should be. The world is returning to what it actually is. And there's a spent trap lying a few paces in front of him.

Amos slowly gets back to his feet. Parts of him are sore now, heavy, but... at least he isn't in any real pain. Not like the night before. He's just... he doesn't understand, and turns out very little of it has to do with the hallucinogens he'd been dosed with. ]

What the fuck was that?

[ He looks around him, asking it to himself, to anybody within hearing range. He's never felt someone's sheer hatred directed towards him like that; never taken it on so strongly it became a part of him.

... Weird. ]