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

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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Can you tell me why?
[ he is gathering bits and broken pieces of Rand's story, and... in all honesty, the more he collects, the more he is concerned. but perhaps it is better to be direct, to rip off the bandaid if he can.
Abel knows he isn't going to be able to help, otherwise. ]
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and then he feels a flicker of guilt. i've decided 'rand' is a friend of mine. and he's coming with us from here on out. even ernesto, so controlled in what he expresses, had been aghast about this information. but gentle, kind abel, who just promised support and friendship? who's so concerned about rand overexerting himself now? ]
There are people where I come from, [ he says finally, looks up to abel's serious, concerned face, and then away, ] born with the spark. It's not just that we can channel, but we must channel.
[ a lesson learned from ernesto: make it clear, at the beginning, that he can't just stop. he would use himself up for the war even if he didn't have to, in fairness, but — he does, is the thing. ]
But the Power that I draw on...that well was poisoned a long time ago. At the end of my last life. [ he'd said dragon reborn, hadn't he? ] I don't know how much time I have. But it always ends the same way. Madness, if I don't die first. I don't suppose many last long after that sets in — they're too much of a danger. It can't be afforded.
[ not in a world still reeling from the last Breaking, and not in horos either. his best hope is to be useful before he's a liability. his best hope is that he won't turn on the people he's quickly growing to care about. his best hope is that ernesto keeps his promise, or that the war gets there first.
so no, he can't go home. he can't risk having the blood of his family and friends on his hands (not again not again not again). he tried so hard not to let himself get close to people here, when he knows how it'll end. isn't it clear now, why he's so afraid of open, unconditional care? he knows for a fact that people love that way. he knows there are people who might love him that way. he knows that even if he manages to avoid hurting anyone, becoming a monster, such a thing would still end in grief. there's nothing good that comes of being around him. ]
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but he's glad that it has.
...maybe it's ironic, in a way. ironic that of all those here in Horos, this sort of subject might be broached between the two of them; Martyrs both, and those from worlds so very, very different at their base. to have common ground in the most unusual of ways... and on such an unhappy subject? what are the chances?
but Abel is not some reborn, prophetic pawn of his world. the well had not been poisoned before his birth. he is not compelled into using any 'gifts' he was given. there are differences, important distinctions to be made. he would not say he's able to understand the unique situation Rand has shouldered, nor what it feels like. all he can do is try to relate in some small way, even if Abel comes up lacking.
...in the end, he inevitably sets aside his half-eaten pastry, finding he doesn't have much of an appetite for it after all - and fixes Rand with a quietly apologetic, soft look instead. ]
I don't know that there's anything I could say that might... help, with this. Sorting through it is something you'll have to do yourself, Rand, because... just as you're the only one who can choose where you head from here, you're the only one who understands what it is to be where you are. Who you are.
[ and even if Abel might perpetually lament that this boy has been made to bear such a burden, he cannot take it from him. all he can do is stand by his side along the way, see him as far as he can go. drag him, if it comes to that. ]
...But for whatever it's worth, in my experience--
[ grief... and guilt, old. there is a dulled, muffled sensation of it trickling through their shared Legacy, through an empathy neither of them asked for. ]
The more you close yourself off from the things that anchor you to your humanity... the more you endanger the very things you seek to protect. Those connections, those... beautiful things that make your life worth living, that make the pain worth bearing-- those are the things that can save you, even from yourself. It may not mean much coming from me, but... I hope you'll keep it in the back of your mind.
no subject
and that's surprising. a part of him realizes he had been expecting to feel something through their bond, but not this. well-worn miseries, that make him wonder who it was that abel lost, and how, and when.
still, his head comes up as the other man goes on, eyebrows drawing together as he looks over. the advice is sound, and it makes sense, and it does mean something, it really does, but he shakes his head with a frown. ]
That's not what I'm doing.
[ that's not he sees it, at least. his attention is directed outwards, at what he doesn't want to do to other people, not what he does to himself. one matters more than the other. ]
I'm not — did you hear me? I am the danger. I am going to be the danger. [ he is past saving, isn't he? that chance vanished the moment he was born. and sometimes he remembers, in flickers, sometimes he has dreams and wakes up with his heart racing and half already forgotten. but there are impressions: the earth cracking, the blood soaking into the floor, into golden hair, dripping off his blade. and the horror, he remembers that the most clearly. ] If I hurt or killed any one of you, I'd —
[ his voice pitches to raw terror; and then he stops short, and swallows, and pulls himself back together. he's lived with this fear this long, and he'll have to for as long as he must. he really should've left when he had the chance, before
before it became impossible, as it is now. he goes on, quieter, ]
...then I really would go mad.
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[ and he does. it is a distinction Abel has not failed to make, nor one he doesn't understand. this point is one he understands too well; it is too close to home. too personal.
...that grief - and self-loathing - is more than a mere glimmer, more than background noise, as he looks into Rand's eyes. ]
There is part of you that says you should bury yourself... literally, if not figuratively. It will not save you. If anything, the only thing you would invite is the hastening of that inevitable end.
[ ...a maddening end. one that would see him losing everything, and at his own hands.
right...? ]
If you fail yourself, you will fail them. If you don't try, if you don't let those around you anchor and support you - you will lose yourself. And whatever part of you is left to scream and howl and rage after that... all it will have is the bitter regret that you had not tried any other way than this. That you had tried to go it alone. That you didn't trust those you love, to love you in return.
There is no hole deep enough to run from it. All you can do... is fight. Alone, or together - but you must choose.
cw suicide ideation
he's felt scraped raw since that terrible night amos took him, but with every word abel seems to reach through his ribs and pull out another thought, or fear, he's never admitted to having and lay it out in the light of day. not cruelly, but...not gently, either. hadn't he told misa less than a day ago, i was supposed to die before i got to horos; i don't know why i didn't. (and he'd tried, hadn't he? with amos. ciel.)
(egwene had said: if it's you, i will always stand by you. no matter what happens. no matter what comes. even now, her voice ripples through their shared legacy. he'd listened to her, and then he'd left.)
what a terrible thing it is, to have a hope — no matter how dreadful — ripped away. what a terrible thing it is, to stare down the uncertainty of life. going to the eye with moiraine really had been such an easy choice by comparison.
he thinks, i'm tired. he thinks, i'm scared. and then he thinks, neither of those things matter. they haven't before. they won't now. nor does how much it hurts. of course he has to fight. in some ways, that's always been the only choice available to him.
so he closes his eyes even as they burn, and he nods. it's not a promise, but — he's hearing, too. he is. that's as much as he can do right now. ]
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this... hurts. this hurts. to feel the ache of someone else's love through their empathic bond elicits a twist of grief and longing that takes Abel by surprise - and his expression briefly falters.
...Abel remembers the woman whose voice this belongs to. remembers a pair of star-crossed lovers exchanging affections in the hall of a building he hadn't recognized, but knew all the same from Rand's memories. and he can recognize this feeling of resignation and bitter acceptance that comes with the realization that Rand had given it up, given her up, of his own volition.
perhaps the priest's warning comes too late to avoid damaging the relationships Rand had fostered at home. maybe it's just in time to stop him from repeating history here in Horos. but... even things that have been roughed up, banged up, can be repaired. it isn't too late - here or there. it isn't too late.
he rises from the chair, slowly. ]
...You should get some rest, alright?
[ he isn't leaving, but... he can see Rand is exhausted in more ways than one. maybe it's time for some real rest. ]
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not that he's against resting. all earlier difficulty aside, he always was going to go back to sleep sooner or later. he isn't opposed to it now. but, irrationally, he watches abel stand, and thinks,
well, why wouldn't he leave? who wouldn't want to go, after all that, promises of friendship or no? and maybe that had been what rand had asked for, expected even, in the wake of these confessions. but...he finds, abruptly, that he doesn't want to be alone. so there's a swell of worry that seems to rise in his throat, as he says, ]
Wait —
1/2
that protest stalls his footsteps before he can get far, hand still clasped over the back of the chair. but he doesn't move it, yet, and just--
hesitates, looking at Rand in momentary surprise. ]
no subject
...this boy, is...
his expression softens, and there is a tug of something gentler than the lot that has been passing through their bond, now. it's awash with reassurance, a fondness, as Abel takes the bag with Ernesto's honeycake, takes the little paper to discard, and sets it all aside.
and then he starts nudging Rand delicately at the shoulder, goading him to lay down. ]
I promised I'd keep watch, make sure you got some half-decent rest - and I'm a man of my word! So...
[ is Rand getting tucked in like he's five?
he is absolutely getting tucked in like he's five. ]
I'm afraid you're stuck with me.
[ ...he isn't going anywhere. it's okay. ]
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but before he can get there, and before abel even speaks, the bond tells him everything he needs to know, doesn't it? so he...breathes out. sets aside whatever's left of his own honeycake, once they got distracted by more serious confessions. feels that warm fondness and, for once, lets himself have this. so he's pliable about moving to lay down as directed, even being tucked in like a child with a fever. ]
Okay. [ softly, with a flush of hesitant gratitude radiating off him. ] Okay. Thank you.
no subject
Close your eyes.
[ soft; quiet. Abel has practice with this entire procession and it comes easy to him. ]
Everything'll be just a little bit easier next time you wake, so... just rest for now.
[ 'I'm with you.' ]