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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.
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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. ]
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[ 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.
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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. ]
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...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?
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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. ]
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[ 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...?
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[ 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.
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[ 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.
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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 ?? ??) ]
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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, ]
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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. ]
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[ 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!
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[ 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.
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[ 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...? ]
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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... ]
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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.
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oh no.
innocent as a lamb, ]
I'm lying down!
[ he is!! just look at him!!! ]
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[ 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.'
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[ and there's the bag flying his way. which he catches, reflexive, as he moves to sit back up. it's warm, a part of him notes, and smells good, but mostly he's currently distracted by
you know, these wild accusations! ]
I wasn't even standing for more than a minute —
[ is not really that far off the truth, but there abel goes to grab a chair and drag it over, so clearly his protests aren't getting him very far. ]
This is called fussing, is what it is.
[ HE HAS A PERFECTLY FUNCTIONAL PAIR OF LEGS, hello??? no complaints is going decidedly ignored. but he SIGHS!!!! and turns his attention back to the bag, opening to take a look inside... ]
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[ Abel is really nailing this in, it seems, as he gives Rand an unimpressed look - but at least his ward hasn't tried getting up out of bed and seems to be resigned to his fate. YES, good. that's a good lad. ]
Honeycakes. Did you know there's a vendor in town who makes nothing but honeycakes, Rand? At the markets, near the lady with all the colorful dyes, closer to the dock-end.
[ and god do they smell good; there are three in the bag - Abel brought one for Ernesto to partake in later as well. ]
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but: he shakes his head slowly, looking from the warm, sweet-smelling pastries and back to abel. ]
I didn't know that.
[ there's so much of godsblood he still hasn't seen, even after these past months. it's such a huge, bustling city, so full of people and vendors, and rand is a creature of habit. he isn't so naturally inclined to wander around looking for anything, let alone something a little reminiscent of home.
with a little breathed out sound of amusement, he pulls out the first one, holding it out for abel. one for each of them, including ernesto later, right? the most natural assumption, to him. then, ]
Do you just know everybody?
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[ he has spent a good chunk of his time getting a lay of the land and getting to know staples about the city; considering it had been the first place he had come after awakening in the Martyr's shrine, being hauled half-way across the continent and escaping the cavern once rejecting the Kenoma... Godsblood had been a sanctuary. it still is, even if the Regent's forces have made their way in.
Abel leans over a bit to accept his bun, and he isn't hesitating to take a rather large bite of it. and talk with his mouth full, because of course he would. ]
Are you telling me you keep yourself cooped up? Honestly, that wouldn't surprise me in the least. Don't you think it behooves you to get out and familiarize yourself with the people...? I mean, this is an entirely new world Rand! There's quite a bit here for you to see and do you might never have experienced back at home.
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maybe.
he swallows before speaking, because unlike abel he was raised to have manners. ]
I get out, [ he says with the same ring of defensiveness as i can tell jokes. he mingles!! he's gone to watch sports!! don't ask how much of this was because of ernesto. ] I'm not cooped up.
[ how can he explain that horos isn't home? that all he ever wanted out of his life is back in the two rivers? egwene was the one who wanted more out of life, adventure, not him. and...there's the question of time. he chose to live in godsblood for the relative anonymity, the ability to leave quietly if he must. even without ciel's reminder, he's known he can't get close to people here. ]
It's just a city, Abel. [ godsblood. and even of horos: ] A place to live. It doesn't matter what I do or don't see.
[ he has to protect what he treasures, wasn't that it? fight and do what no one else can, right? they're at war; the regent sounds so much like the dark one; and he still has this much of his destiny. there's no point to pretending to live a life here like a normal person, and there never was. he's more clear-eyed about that than ever now. ]
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so... Abel is watching him with that telltale silence that the boy might be cluing in means he is Thinking about it, and that Thinking about it means he's probably latched on to what's remained unspoken, and thus Rand is doomed. ]
...Hey, Rand?
[ ... ]
If you were to return home -- right now. To go to sleep, wake up right back in your own bed, then... what would you do?
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I'd leave.
[ that life was lost before he ever heard the name horos. ]
I can't go back there. I couldn't even before all this.
[ what is the point, any more, to keeping this secret? to pretending anything else would be the case? ]
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cw suicide ideation
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1/2
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