![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
- !event,
- #npc,
- abel nightroad: martyr,
- akua sahelian: sovereign,
- amos burton: lover,
- caitlyn kiramman: champion,
- ciel: martyr,
- emet-selch: champion,
- himeka sui: wanderer,
- howl: celebrant,
- jayce talis: visionary,
- johnny joestar: firebrand,
- koriel xii (dextera): lover,
- misa amane: lover,
- rand al'thor: martyr,
- syrlya: champion,
- tartaglia (childe): firebrand,
- yuuta okkotsu: lover
EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)
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?
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.
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.
no subject
the grief that swims through their bond is overwhelming, steals some of the air from the priest's lungs - and next thing he knows, he's gently reaching out with a grimace at his lips, resting his hand lightly atop Rand's head. ]
...You aren't so lost that you can't find your way.
[ purposefully, delicately... he strokes soothingly in an effort to calm some of this aching pain pouring from this man like a sieve. ]
So take the time you need... and find it. Find it with us, Rand... you aren't alone. If you trip, if you fall along the way-- we'll be right here to keep you going. ...I promise.
no subject
he is alone; horos is dangerous; he cannot afford to be weak.
if there anything that he'd learned while trapped at the mercy of their enemies, it is that all of those things are true, and that he still hadn't taken them seriously enough. weakness saw him naive and deceivable, saw him captured, gave the kenoma targets just to get at him. he hadn't realized how dangerous horos really is, and for that, he'd suffered. worse: he'd brought suffering on other people.
but if he were really alone, then ernesto and akua would not have come for him. abel would not be here, unflinching in the face of everything. himeka would not have reminded him, we don't leave our friends behind. it doesn't add up with what he'd believed.
which means he's done something wrong. because he knows in a bone-deep way that he does not get any choice in what kind of person he is. he does not get to decide that. he will inevitably drag people down with him, because it's already begun. it isn't even what he does, it's what he is.
so the pitch of the misery radiating off him doesn't abate with abel's kind words. they are so, so hard to hear. but he isn't ready to speak yet, let alone look up, so he just shakes his head. ]
no subject
...This is not who you are meant to be.
[ a man who takes life, a man who buries his emotions until they burst forth out of him in a fit of vitriol and anguish. Abel understands there is much this boy is keeping behind lock and key - and that isn't a good thing. ]
Whatever it is that's led you here, Rand... to where this pit sits in your stomach this way? You choose where the next step will take you. This isn't all there is... it doesn't have to be. It won't be, unless you make it so. Do you understand...?
no subject
he reaches up to dry his face, exhale harshly, try to find those tattered scraps of composure. when he answers, it's soft. ]
What do you know of who I'm meant to be?
[ could so easily sound combative. if he'd said this at any other time, it might be. but, right now, it's plaintive. the earnest question of a lost child. ]
How could you know? I haven't recognized myself for a long time.
[ before he took a life. before horos. this runs deeper, further than he's let anyone see. ]
no subject
[ Abel's hand falls away once Rand begins to compose himself, though there is no less shimmer of something compassionate, empathetic, in his eyes; clearly... Martyr or otherwise, the priest truly feels this boy's pain. ]
...I know the one who is sitting here in front of me. [ that hand newly fallen from a head of red hair now halts, taps, at Rand's chest above his stubbornly beating heart. ]
This world... and all the worlds we come from... are meeting you for the first time. Whatever you'd been, whoever that Rand was -- all the wonderful parts, and all the broken parts... you are who you decide to be from now on. This is your chance to choose that first step, and it's up to you to keep walking it after that. Even if it's hard. Even if you might tell yourself you don't deserve it.
[ another, lighter tap to his chest - and then... a soft try for a smile. ]
Whether you recognize him... I've decided 'Rand' is a friend of mine. And he's coming with us from here on out.
no subject
the person that abel does know is a version that can never go back to that simple life, that has been pulled apart and put back together for use by the Pattern. since the kenoma had started appearing in godsblood the first time, since the regent's address a matter of days ago, since his stint in captivity, he's moved closer and closer to being the dragon reborn. he'd told ernesto not so long ago: if i could stop being a channeler by wishing, believe me, i'd've done it already. running from being this person has always been an exercise in futility. and the running means abel can't know who he's talking about now, not really.
there's the old fear of being honest, or being open, but he's been cracked open already, the truth given in parts to people like ernesto, like akua, like amos, like misa, even the regent. why stop now? ]
Twenty years ago, I was born in the snows of Dragonmount. You saw it, in Venera. [ it'd been visible from the window of a dreamed hallway in tar valon, had started to smoke and shake as he'd come closer to the truth of the dream. his eyes raise to abel's face as he speaks. ] The mountain. My mother died, I think; I never met her. My dad found me there, and brought me home to his wife. My mum. They raised me in the mountains, in the village you saw. I learned farming, and sheep herding, and I was happy.
[ the burnt village that had haunted rand, reminded him of the what was the real world and what was the innocence-fueled dream. ]
There's someone in my world very like the Regent, and he sent an army to Two Rivers looking for me. He chased us across the continent. And he promised me better things than the Regent has, because the Dragon Reborn was destined to seal him away and save the world, or cause another Breaking as he — I — did the last time, three thousand years ago. Someone told me that denying the Dark One meant my death at the Last Battle.
[ well, not exactly. but that's how he'd understood it. ]
But our world would live. [ and that's what matters. a beat, before confessing, ] I don't know what I did wrong.
[ because: here he is, alive. and his world is dead. small wonder he'd reacted so strongly to the regent. small wonder, too, that he'd woken in the shrine of the martyr. he's lost any chance to return to the life he'd had. he's lost the purpose that he didn't want, but was a duty, and would've at least guided him to the end of his life knowing he'd done something worthwhile. instead, he's here, grasping for purpose, for identity, and to make sense of himself as much as his situation as much as his past. there's no leaving any of that behind for the new world he's in, when it haunts him in real, tangible ways.
so maybe — maybe now it will be easier for abel to understand why his reassurances are so hard to take. ]
no subject
perhaps Abel even understands far better than the average man should - what it means to feel as if one is bound by fate, their future preordained. trapped, even; bound by forces beyond normal human understanding. resisting the temptation of a force that offers peace, and solace, and unending tranquility. a fulfillment of every wish before they could even think to want after it, in exchange for an End. the End of everything.
but it is that same understanding that also prevents Abel from failing to see where Rand struggles, in a way. so, to guide this boy to that point - to have them seeing eye to eye... ]
You denied it. Denied that power... and you were willing to give up everything. [ his life, included. ]
Can you tell me why?
no subject
Why should anyone else have to suffer if I could help it? Or lose anything, just for what I want?
[ let egwene and nynaeve go to the white tower, if that's what they want. let mat and perrin go home, the light willing. let his father and two rivers folk rebuild. let strangers live their lives without having to fear the onslaught of darkness. let there still be a world for them. he doesn't have to be in it for that to have worth. ]
no subject
[ he had given of himself so that others might continue to live, and despite how easy Rand makes that choice seem... Abel is well aware there are many who would not have the strength nor resolve to commit to it. ]
...Because there is a little instinct inside of you, one that I think you've let grow buried since coming to Horos. Its edges have been softened by the fear and uncertainty that you feel, and that... is completely natural. Feeling a little lost... a lot lost-- it is something all of us are grappling with. Making mistakes, fumbling along, even falling flat on our faces here and there-- I think it's inevitable, right? You've been dropped into another world, been told your own is well and truly gone, that everything you had been prepared to sacrifice... and sacrifice it for has been rendered meaningless. You've been thrown into a war you did not sign up for, body altered and changed, and told to make sense of it all with little guidance at your back.
[ laying it out this way... it must make sense, surely. how any man, any person, would be struggling in these circumstances. how Rand is warranted in struggling, even the baggage from home set aside. ]
But that piece of you... the part of you that led you to make that choice back at home, makes it sound like it were easy-- it is alive and well, even if it's grown a bit weary. If it weren't, then... none of this would pain you as it does.
[ ...Rand. ]
As much as it might seem wrong, feeling that pain-- that's proof that you're going to be okay. It's proof that you can wield a sword, [ he lightly pushes the sword's hilt closer to the boy's side on the bed, ] ...and you can decide to continue fighting to protect what you treasure-- what you left behind, and what you very well might return to one day.
None of it will truly die, Rand... unless you let it. You are still the only one who can protect it, now. Unfair as it is... and much as I wish it weren't necessary... I know you can-- will-- do it.
no subject
not even in the world he knows. not even — not even, not even. abel lays it out aptly, doesn't he? rand doesn't know what path to take anymore, or even where he's going now, should go, might go, could go: not with everything he's lost and everything he's been given in its stead. for a minute, he can acknowledge the truth of that. of course he'd struggle. maybe his missteps in horos haven't been an inherent weakness. maybe anyone else would feel the same.
maybe.
he still doesn't reach out to take the hilt, but he doesn't reject it. a part of him simply worries that if he does touch it, he might come undone again. there's only so much grieving his father he's willing to do right now, to do in front of another person, even abel. the sword had been — is — maybe the last of tam al'thor's presence in this world or any world. certainly the last piece rand can carry with him.
because, of course, even if his world does live: he can't go back. and maybe the flicker across his face is familiar to abel now, the expression he can't help when there's yet another thing he doesn't say that briefly breaks through to the surface. that's a comfort he can't take, even as he tries to accept the rest. some of the rest, at least. it'd be nice to think he can still protect his home, his loved ones, from here. it'd be nice to think he can protect the people he's growing to care about here, too. that there are people here who feel the same way about him, and might despite everything. he can consider the possibilities, whether or not he's ready to accept them yet.
it seems so inadequate not to say anything. it seems so inadequate to try to answer with any stupid, fumbling thing he might say. so in the end he swallows, and he nods. ]
no subject
...he leaves the handle of the sword where it lies at Rand's side on the bed, slowly pulling himself back up to his feet. ]
I think... I've dumped quite a lot to mull over in your lap for one day, haven't I?
[ a slightly sheepish, apologetic smile steals over his face; the edges are lined by a genuine sorrow. he doesn't like to see Rand this way... truly. ]
Let me make you something to eat, alright? And then I'm going to chivy you for some sleep, and-- I don't want to hear any protests. This is non-negotiable, okay?
no subject
maybe he has more of it than he'd been expecting. maybe being an aion means he has more of it than he would've at home. but channeling more in the past day, the past week, than he has in the past month means he
can feel it, sort of. something a little bit wrong inside of him that hadn't been there before. or maybe it's just in his head, given all the wrongness he feels right now. or maybe that's what he's afraid of trusting: his mind.
or maybe,
he's just spent. tired. which isn't to say he doesn't open his mouth to protest; because, of course, abel knows him well enough by now. ]
I haven't done anything but eat and sleep all day,
[ he grouses without any heat, and which is only sort of true. very early this morning he'd still been in ciel's hands, after all, and — this is much better care. ]
But, alright. [ and: ] Can you cook?
[ is there some real, vague concern? maybe. imagine if ernesto left for a few hours and rand accidentally let abel burn his apartment down. ]
no subject
[ declared candidly and with great cheer half-way to the kitchen...
.......
he is still heading into the kitchen. ]
Um, say-- Rand? What do you like to eat? Are you more of a sweet or savory sort of person...?
no subject
[ human disaster?? ?? STOP GOING INTO THE KITCHEN RIGHT NOW,
which is to say rand scrambles to follow, wincing as he bends the wrong way to avoid the stomach wound, but getting as far as the bedroom door if abel doesn't double back to stop him. ]
I'm more of a 'no food poisoning' kind of person.
no subject
[ Abel's leaning out of the kitchen doorway, eyes suddenly and hauntingly Severe in the way of your father admonishing you for sneaking out of bed past bedtime and bedtime stories and being tucked in for the night. ]
Do not make me come over there.
no subject
Fine! [ does he toss his hands up? maybe. ] Fine, bring something sweet.
[ GRUMBLING as he does, but he does in fact retreat back into the bedroom. (you're not even his real dad?? ?? you say things like this and expect him not to follow into the kitchen ?? ??) ]
no subject
Abel's seemingly satisfied, however, even though he is still shouting from the kitchen - or, well, raising his voice enough to ensure he's heard as he begins searching for ingredients on his cooking endeavor. ]
Oho~! Something sweet... Now you're talking my language. What's your go-to snack when you're under the weather, Rand?
[ just like that, he's back to cheery sunshine again!! duality of man, ]
no subject
but fine! fine! they're doing this. apparently. that's fine. ]
Egwene's mum would make these honeycakes, [ since after mentioning visions from venera twice in this conversation, there's no point to not mentioning egwene at this point, ] but I couldn't tell you how to make them.
[ he also doesn't trust abel near an oven, so maybe something sweet was a bad ask, actually. ]
no subject
[ this is shouted with the sort of vigor of one having their Eureka moment, and Abel is immediately sprinting out of the kitchen a moment later, already heading for the front door of Ernesto's humble abode. ]
Honeycakes. Honeycakes, I'm on it. --Sit here. Lay here, even, don't you get up for anything. Do you hear me? Not unless this place is on FIRE, Rand, and even then, just shout loudly and hope someone hears you. Got it?! --I'll be right back!
no subject
[ is said with the expectation of going unheard, and probably talked over, and here we are. because he'd like to say, you don't have to go anywhere, or getting up is not going to kill me, or why are you like this?
but instead, abel is bolting for the door and like, you know, this is happening. is rand getting used to this? he kind of is. at least abel is not going to try turning on any kitchen appliances. ]
I can put out a fire — [ why is he still trying, he asks himself, ] — fine, all right, I'll be here.
no subject
[ he pulls the door ajar, pointing a finger admonishingly and commandingly at Rand - STAY, boy. ]
I won't be long~! Rest. Eyes closed and everything, mm? --Count sheep!
[ --and then the door is slammed shut behind him with a muffled "s-- SORRY, sorry, that was louder than I--"
he's gone. and he will be gone about thirty minutes... is Rand being good in his absence?! still in bed when a certain priest makes his return...? ]
no subject
you know what's deathly boring? laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, even when you have things like wonder what father abel nightroad is doing to occupy your mind. and maybe, left alone without being fussed over, he can even admit that he might be looking forward to some food, and he might even be drowsy.
but he is also famously stubborn as a mule. so he does sit for some time (maybe five, ten minutes?), and then he gets bored, and then he considers that can't very well leave the sword hilt on the bed. so he sets it safely on some surface out in the living area, and maybe just double-checks that abel didn't leave any kind of havoc in the kitchen area, and if not....then....go back into the bedroom. maybe even lay down, just a little... ]
no subject
Abel is nudging the door open at around the thirty minute mark, a paper bag underneath an arm as he pokes his head into the common area, making sure that nothing has been disturbed or, as previously mentioned, on fire. refreshing! it isn't!!! wonderful news.
so he comes in properly (much more quietly than he left) before making his way to the bedroom, and on the way
he might
spot the sword hilt sitting unobtrusively and innocently in the living room.
...a pair of footsteps approach the bedroom door much more slowly than before. heavy footfalls come closer, and then closer still. the door creaks... slowly ajar to permit the tall figure of a man to be seen, bag still clasped under his arm and old-fashioned glasses curiously catching the light just right to leave the lenses gleaming. ]
Rand.
[ Rand... al'Thor. ]
I don't suppose you sustained some sort of permanent brain injury I should know about. Just out of idle curiosity.
no subject
oh no.
innocent as a lamb, ]
I'm lying down!
[ he is!! just look at him!!! ]
no subject
[ he is tossing the bag at Rand-- it's light, of course, so even if it lands somewhere bruised or uncomfortable, it won't elicit anything more than a gentle ouchie. just a little ow, a booboo owie, a teeny agh. ]
I warned you. I gave you ONE simple job, and here we are.
[ dragging a chair to Rand's bedside, he sits it backward so he can cross his arms over its back, settling the boy with a decidedly menacing stare. ]
Now? I'm not leaving until you've eaten, drank a good bit of water, and had a solid night's rest. No complaints. You have nothing but yourself to blame, see? This is called 'reaping what you sow.'
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
cw suicide ideation
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)