aionlogs | EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

Sovereign Citizens

VENERA

In contrast the Aion's last visit, they now arrive in Venera on a completely average day... or so it seems. Unlike Godsblood, Venera has been given no warning as to what's about to befall it; the Kenoma are simply authorized to arrive and begin their bloody work without fanfare. Even their entourage of Achamite soldier don't stick out that much; in the time since the plague left, the city has refilled with occupying forces. Notably, the Hylician ones seem to be keeping out of the way, almost as if they've heard some things and would rather not be involved too closely in what's to come.

As opposed to the ghost town it was during the plague, Venera is now reasonably active, with most attending to their usual business. Shops are open, and its people are withdrawn but superficially friendly when meeting strangers. Initially, the targets of the Kenoma hit list will have no way of knowing what's coming for them, but after the first couple attacks word will begin to spread. Those that have recently been engaging in seditious behavior will become harder to find, leaving their usual homes and workplaces to stay elsewhere, and making other attempts to escape the Regent's attention.

Once those alerts have been raised, the Kenoma will have to engage in more detective work to find their targets, questioning other Venerans and seeking out fugitives in the homes of their family and friends. In the meantime, some of those who believe they are in danger may become desperately enough to seek out the Pleroma directly, imploring them for aid. Unfortunately, seeking out one sect may just as easily draw the attention of the other. Most uninvolved Venerans will be too terrified to intervene one way or another, reluctant to aid in the persecution of their neighbors but fearful of consequences. If your Aion travels openly, it will take some effort to pin them down long enough to hold a conversation.

SEEDS OF DESPAIR

Several days into the culling of Venera, the Aions will have witnessed the city gradually withdraw into itself. The streets become vacant as more and more people decide it isn't worth the risk to be seen outside, abandoning work and play alike to hide out in their homes, refusing to answer their doors to all except the most desperate pleading. Those that can't avoid their daily obligations are quiet and morose, trying their best to remain unseen and unremarked upon.

If your character has been observed as a Kenoma, either now or in their previous visits to the city, the citizens will look upon them as if they are the messengers of death. If you are seen as a Pleroma, they will resist your gaze, as if fearing your presence alone might leave them marked. In rarer cases, you will see those with stronger spirits, with glares of hatred or determination. They are powerless now, but seeds have been sewn, and whether they are the seeds of despair or of action are yet unclear.

By the time the Kenoma's hit list has been fully addressed, several have been killed and several more have been rushed from their homes to flee the city entirely. There have been holes left in the tapestry of the community they were once part of. One way or another, their absence will be felt keenly by those they left behind.

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Venera?
Estinien has plans to get an early start for the Pleroma by teleporting to the Lover's shrine and flying somewhere closer to set up a portal from the ocean caves near the Godsblood Lodestone to a spot of farmland closer to Venera. Paul will be setting up a portal directly from Achamoth to one of the Achamite outposts in Venera.

How much force can the Kenoma use while interrogating Venerans?
While they are generally not permitted to kill Venerans who haven't tried to physically fight them, they will be permitted to apply both physical and mental pressure upon those that refuse to provide them with information regarding the whereabouts of their targets. This duress should be proportional to the resistance the Veneran is offering. The Regent is not inviting them to terrorize Venera on a level to a level they cannot reasonably blaim themselves for.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Unlike a field, Horos is a big place, you know.

[And why is he getting rabbit comparisons even with someone who could be a second away from killing him...? Some things are inescapable, it seems.

Still, he isn't shy about stripping down, so he shrugs off the cape and outer robe. By the time he does so, the blue aura around him and the glow in his eyes have both faded entirely. He strips off his undershirt last, revealing that he had been telling the truth: there's a pink, oval-shaped shard embedded in his chest.

He holds out the shirt for her to approach and claim, deciding it's better not to be the one to move closer. Though if she shoots now, he supposes there are still more absurd ways to die.]

Here, take it. My powers are gone.

[It might be a big place, but they could also... "teleport" all over it. And if she'd learned anything so far about being a so-called aion... It was that they seemed to be called to the same places. Or rather, something would call them, or the Regent would announce his intentions. If such things continued... she had no doubt they'd be in proximity again.

The glow around him fades. Did that mean he no longer moved at the speeds he had befoe? As tempted as she is to test it...

Hayame finally releases the string of her bow... after she releases the tension. Her arrow goes back into her quiver. In this backalley part of the city, the canal that separated them was no more than ten feet wide, and rather than leave him the leeway to flee by walking to the nearest bridge... she backs up as far as she can until her rump hits the back of the business buttressing up against the waterside path, exhales...

And makes a surprisingly graceful running leap, her fetlock-length mane and tail streaming out behind her like ebony banners. She lands heavily but safely in a clatter of hooves on her enemy's side of the canal, and from there whips back around to face him. He is... objectively, she thinks he is probably supposed to be attractive. He is well-built, physically, he looked strong enough for a human, but he's so... pale...]

Put your damn clothes back on.

[She snaps her request (demand) as she also snatches the undershirt from his hand, somehow effortlessly managing to avoid even a single brush of their fingers in the process.

But she doesn't avoid looking him straight in the eyes as she lifts the undershirt to her face and inhales almost... aggressively, not bothering to hide the way her lips twist into a look of disgust over the overtly masculine smell in her nose as she memorizes his scent. Sweat, some citrus tang, the smell of Venera, cedar, a mossy something she can't quite identify, a strangely fresh hint of water, and man.]

[Although he's sure by this point that he'd managed to succeed in negotiations, the tension doesn't leave him until she relaxes the bowstring, as if he had been the one pulled taut the whole time. He really could have died for a second there, and although he's used to routinely risking his life, this particular situation had been a knife's edge like few others he's experienced.

Still, as she leaps over the canal, he thinks perhaps she's less statuesque and more like a painting, beautiful and fluid in motion...

...Which is entirely ruined when she snatches the shirt from his hand and snaps at him. The scene is so bizarre, and perhaps he's a little elated from relief, that he actually laughs.]

You're a difficult person to please, aren't you? [Perhaps it's funny, too, that someone would treat him with such disgust when he's used to being an object to be admired and marketed in his career. Maybe centaurs have very different standards of attractiveness...? Regardless, he won't tease her any more than that, pulling the robes back on while she acquaints herself with his nasty man scent.]

[Hayame had a bad habit of ruining other's more positive impressions of her, whether it was her character or even just her appearance. Even with how tightly she binds her breasts down and how well-muscled her arms were, she could be an elegant beauty, if she didn't... often look like she was a minute away from kicking someone to death.

Or whatever look that is on her face now, as he... laughs. At first, she automatically assumes that he's laughing at her, and her entire body grows tense with readiness to strike, but... No, that's not it, perhaps. That, and the awful scent now flooding her brain, make her... Is she blushing? A little.]

If you just cooperated from the start, I would not be.

[If he was willing to let his powers "run out" and risk an arrow to the chest, surely he could trust her with the shard... Tch.

Hayame folds his shirt neatly and then shoves it into the saddlebag she wears on the harness at her "waist", not about to give it back in case she actually did need to hunt him down. And with that taken care of-]

If you are not a liar, you will take this sign here-

[She uses a foreleg to gesture at the worn cobblestones they stood on, the edge of hoof scratching a crude "x" into the porous rock.]

And duplicate it when you have finished your business. That will tell me you will meet me in the hour of the ox at the west gate to the city that night, where I will take custody of you to leave the Regent's lands.

[She taps the unmarked stone next to the one she's marked, her voice brooking very little argument and yet almost expecting it at this point.]

Do you understand?

[He still looks faintly amused as he finishes smoothing down the robe and straightens up his cape, but he resists the urge to laugh again between all her blushing and griping. Difficult to please, irritable, likes to complain... Maybe he understands a bit more what he must have been like to deal with, not so long ago. Rather than mention that, though, he instead tactfully opting to focus only on the sign she draws on the ground.]

Yes. Except -- when is the hour of the ox?

[The second hour of the day, like the zodiac? It might have a different meaning in her world, though.]

And if anything arises, we should try to stay in touch via Communion. [If you need help, he wants to say, but he can already imagine the angry reaction to even implying she might need such a thing.] It might be difficult, but it's an option.

[He is mostly correct in his guess, at least, even if Hayame releases another frustrated suck of her teeth over the continued culture clashes she keeps encountering with... literally almost everyone she's met since arriving in this accursed place.]

An hour past the moon's peak.

[... So, yeah, about 2am.]

...

[The new problem is... Communion.]

You will not hand over your shard but you expect me to let you into my head? What an impudent man.

[... Wait, why would be be difficult, though? She was under the impression it was easy for... everyone but her.]

I'm not just going to... barge into your head.

[His smile fades a little as he looks up at her. Even if he could, if Communion were capable of such a thing, he wouldn't. He's experienced that kind of violation too many times to wish it on anyone.]

You can control whatever information you share with me, and you can refuse contact altogether. [He's not the biggest fan of Communion himself, but the situation is volatile enough now that anything could happen, much like when the sects previously clashed in Venera.] Just think of it as another tool for tracking me.

[See, he says that… but she’s managed communion all of one time, and what could that be called but that? It put voices in your head, sometimes even images…

Her fingers tighten on her bow, her lips purse.

… If she hadn’t sworn to capture Kenoma and attempt to force the sludge out of them rather than kill them…]

Fine. You may… commune with me.

[It sound so perverse to say out loud.]

Likewise, you have permission to do the same.

[Practically as a reflex, like he'd seal a deal with a sponsor and not at all like she's still holding a bow she'd just threatened him with, he offers his hand for a handshake, smiling once more.]

My name is Barnaby. I look forward to working with you. [Too much? Maybe he's still teasing her. A tiny bit.]

[… “Barnaby” was a name, apparently. So was “Estinien” and… okay, she didn’t exactly know a lot of her fellow aions names. Then again, most of them didn’t know hers, either. She’d hardly gone out of her way to get friendly with them. In fact, she’d done all she could to keep them at arms length.

But this Barnaby is now holding his arm… out at her. His hand is open, but it isn’t… up, asking for her to put something in it, so-]

What are you doing… ?

[She. Genuinely looks confused, it’s not a joke.]

[Well, he supposes he should have expected that.] It's called a handshake. It's used to signal friendly intent-- in this case, an agreement being made.

[He takes his own hand in the other and shakes it to demonstrate the gesture.]

It's just a formality, really.

[Hayame had learned very quickly in Godsblood that the people of this world were far freer than their affections than those of her own, and in what she assumed was their red light district she had seen disgusting displays in broad daylight, but...

Bare skin on skin between men and women, just... for someone who was a veritable stranger? Despite herself, her cheeks are noticably flush with something like embarrassment over the very idea, looking... almost like a maiden and not a very physically intimidating centaur archer.]

What sort of lecherous world do you come from?

[If it were auction day, it would make sense, it's not like she's not been touched all over by male human hands, but that was inspecting her horseflesh, her suitability for breeding, not... friendliness. She draws herself up as if to try and remind him that she- she was not someone who would be so easily wooed or distracted. Also, wait, actually-]

Do not answer that. Use your words to say such things, not your naked palm.

It really isn't lecherous at all!

[She told him not to answer, but he has to protest at least that much anyway. Besides, wasn't she the one sniffing his clothes like a ravenous fangirl a second ago? Ah, well.

He drops his hand back to his side, by now baffled by the entire exchange.]

If handshakes are no good to you, please at least tell me your name.

You're a man, are you not?

[She definitely knows he is, now, but she's not about to remind him of the difference in their sexes by claiming "woman" for herself, so- There.

It just wasn't... She wasn't some whore, to touch a man so openly where just anyone could see, and this wasn't a brothel! It's a city in the middle of the day! But that doesn't matter, because he asks for...

Her name. It's supposed to be an easy thing to answer. It used to be. But since she came here... it sticks in her throat a moment before she can finally, reluctantly, force it out.]

Hayame.

[- and just to make sure he understood what was happening here, her momentary shock over his brazenness with his body aside,]

I suppose it is only fitting you know the name of the person who will kill you if you go back on your word.

[He nods.] Yes. Thank you, Hayame. And I'm sorry for entrusting you with such a burden.

[But perhaps, in some small way, she'll feel better for having helped someone else, instead of being focused solely on revenge. He's sure that's the kind of thing Kotetsu would have done for her in this situation.

He moves over to the shopkeeper's door (still firmly bolted shut), and tugs at the arrow, pulling it out after a couple of solid yanks. She's... definitely strong, with how deeply it was embedded. Then he turns, holding it out to her to examine.]

Is this of any use to you still? It doesn't look damaged.

[... Has she ever heard someone say that? It's just two words and her name, something that she realizes must be everyday for most people, something that probably doesn't even mean a single thing to him, and yet.

"Thank you, Hayame."

It keeps her still as he moves, stunned in a way that makes her uncomfortable, until she remembers to move when he offers her back the arrow she had loosed. Again, she somehow manages to take the item from him in a way that ensures their skin does not even brush against each other, examining it herself. Only briefly, she isn't willing to fully take her eyes off of him for long, but there's no major cracks, and in a place like this she needed all of the arrows she could keep, so-]

Good enough.

[... She could have said "thank you".]

Do not apologize to me unless you plan to go back on your word.

Then I won't.

[His expression softens. She may not have said thank you, she might still be acting like getting anywhere near him should be treated like he has a contagious man disease, but the fact she didn't just snatch the arrow out of his hand and say something irritable is already progress, in his mind.]

What do you intend to do from here? I could share any relevant information I've gathered with you.

It is not for you to know my plans.

[... Even if they amounted largely to "hunt every Kenoma and Achamite she comes across". She still didn't trust him... She wouldn't, until she came back here, saw an "x" mark beside hers, and then took him into custody at the city gate. Technically, maybe not even then, but. The odds were higher then.

Her arrow goes back in her quiver.]

You, however, may share.

I can send you the location of guard outposts, and I know one place where prisoners are being held. I only suggest you don't rush in without a plan -- they'll be heavily guarded.

[He doesn't expect her to tell him her plans in any great detail, but he'd like to know she at least has a plan, and he's not just sending her to her potential death.]

There are those among the Pleroma who view themselves more as rescuers. I am sure they can do something with information on a prison.

[... Notable, she does not say "we", nor does she seem to consider herself one of those people who came here to be of help to others.

But perhaps not that surprising, considering how she's greeted him and still seemed to refuse to trust him fully despite how sincere his words about leaving the Kenoma sounded.]

[Considering he's an outlier amongst the Kenoma, too, he's less surprised that Hayame holds herself apart from the rest in her own sect. Another thing they have in common, he supposes.]

I'm sure they do, but I've seen how many of them behave already. I keep imagining a scenario where they rush in and get themselves -- or the prisoners -- killed. Someone with experience like you would be able to make better use of it.

[Her skill with a bow is unmistakable, as is her speed and strength, plus she had the subtlety to use a glamour. He's sure she would be an asset for a prison break.]

[It is... almost flattering, what he says. Hayame isn't used to compliments that don't end in a "but". She is a perfect shot, but too expensive. She'd be a capable warrior, but she is a woman.

So his words are nice to hear... but they come from a man she cannot yet trust. Not until he is at the western gate of this city and she has his shard in her possession.]

I could not enter the prison and still remain unnoticed.

[For all the experience she has, and maybe could put towards such a task... her jaw grows tight with frustration, a bitterness she has been nursing since the day she arrived on this accursed planet. And since she doubted that magic was only available to the Pleroma, she can admit-]

That false illusion is nothing but disguise. My size does not change. I cannot travel anywhere where someone might brush my flank and discover the falsehood.

[... Which is more than just prisons. It's the crowded streets of Godsblood, it's the bustling markets in Venera. It's most places that other aions walked through the native populace with nary a care.]

I see... It's not shapeshifting, then.

[Shapeshifting being what he's more accustomed to seeing, what with his coworker Ivan, but that makes more sense, given the way her glamour had simply shattered and fell apart. It sounds horribly inconvenient, in a city built for humans alone, and he has to acknowledge it limits her strategies.]

If that's not an option, what information would be more useful to you?

No.

[Hayame is not religious in the slightest, though she was capable of speaking just enough as if she was to encompass the sorts of sutras and prayers one needed to operate as the sort of warrior she'd always tried to be. Why would she believe in such things? No jinba had ever had their prayers answered by a god. ... But still, she thinks. Thank the eight million myriad of gods it wasn't shapeshifting.]

The last thing I need is to be stuck in some weak human body, anyway.

[... She is. Not going to mention how intrinsically horrifying she would find that, or how disgusted the very idea is. To wear the shape of the race that had made her's into...

Never mind.]

If you will tell me the location... I will attempt to see to it that someone with sense receives it. That is all I can promise.

[Barnaby won't take offence at her calling humans weak, at least. He'd readily concede that she's probably stronger than the vast majority of non-NEXT humans in his own world, even if he doesn't exactly approve of her phrasing.]

Then, do you mind if I share it with you via Communion? That way there won't by any misunderstandings.

[He fully expects she'll refuse, but it's worth a try.]

EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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1/2 (cw: forced amputation)

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