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 Shops are open, and its people are withdrawn but superficially friendly when meeting strangers.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.

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[ dextera had been here to help, but at least he can say with honesty that the task he’s now fulfilling is a purely selfish one. yes, he did target the regent’s forces, but it was a decision made of necessity rather than malice. the soldiers shouldn’t have been so plentiful if they didn’t want to be picked off. ]

…

[ he shakes his head. there’s a distinct anxiety to his body language that hasn’t been present in a few of their meetings now—it’s more like when they first met, when dextera was operating under the assumption that gen would crush his skull if he stepped out of line.

only this time, and perhaps it’s communicated through their legacy, it isn’t really gen he’s afraid of. it’s just everything that gen has placed himself between. ]

[ Is it for better or for worse that Gen doesn't notice anything amiss at first? Dextera's always been a strange one, after all. Skittish in ways, oddly composed in others. Given the tense atmosphere of this place and what they've all been embroiled into, he can't be too surprised if Dextera's acting strange. But even with how anxious and distracted he's feeling, there's only so long he can ignore the hints that something is off. ]

What's wrong with you. You're acting weird. ... weirder than normal.

[ But even as he speaks, his eyes naturally fall upon that bundle in Dextera's arms. Whatever it is, Dextera's clutching it awfully close to his chest. And just looking at it ... an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. It's something about the look in Dextera's eyes that triggers that sensation, he thinks. ]

What is that.

[ Though Gen doesn't raise his voice, there's a pointed quality to that question. And Gen makes sure to maintain eye contact as he asks it. Even if Dextera can't speak with words without his shard, his eyes always say more than enough, Gen's learned. ]

[ the contents are clearly soft, and dextera is being careful in the way he clutches it to avoid disrupting anything inside. there’s a distinctly wet noise, too, when he shifts in just the right ways—but luckily for him, nothing seems to be leaking through the bag. ]

…

[ dextera shakes his head again, this time a refusal of gen’s question. if he runs, gen will follow, so he has to merely staunchly refrain from giving any information or vulnerability. if gen sees what’s in the bag, it will upset him. dextera knows that from their last meeting. as he doesn’t want to distress gen with the very obvious, grotesque visual of a pile of human organs removed from their proper places inside the body, he has to insist that gen leave now.

his eyes, as such, are wide and unblinking in answer, except for the neurotic tremble he can’t help. ]

[ He's not sure what pisses him off more. That wide-eyed, terrified look in Dextera's eyes, or the vehement refusal to answer a simple question. And while a small part of him twinges with guilt at the sight of Dextera balking in fear, that gormless expression on his face just a little too familiar for him to completely ignore ... unfortunately for Dextera, he's never been the type to cease his violence out of sympathy. ]

Y'know, I was just planning on letting you go, as long as you weren't getting in our way.

[ Does that sound believable? Maybe. Or maybe not, given the rough way he grabs at Dextera's shirtfront.

The sight of that strange package wobbling in Dextera's grip, clearly something soft and malleable, makes his stomach turn uneasily though he can't articulate why. Gen tries not to think about it, instead focusing on Dextera only. ]

But it's another thing if you're acting so suspicious. It's not like I've forgotten you're supposed to be an enemy of ours, in the end. What're you hiding?

—

[ dextera gasps when gen grabs his shirt, and for the first time since they started speaking, his purification falters. nothing happens immediately, but it is evident that he was doing something to the contents of the bag now that he’s ceased.

he tries to pull away from gen, but only with mild resistance. he could probably get away if he really put his weight into it, but the risk of falling on what he’s so carefully gathered is too great. not only would it implicate him to the city at large, with such a scene made, but it would also render all his efforts up to this point for naught. ]

…

[ although he shakes his head one last time, a desperately but firm rejection that gen wants to see this, he creeps his fingers into the mouth of the bag. he’ll open it if gen truly wants to know.

but. ]

... what're you so scared of.

[ His gaze had briefly flickered down to the bag, to where he now realizes Dextera had been doing something to it, but as he flickers back up, Gen takes in that wide-eyed look directed his way.

Fuck, is he sick of people looking at him like that.

His classmates back home. The people around his hometown. The people of Godsblood during those days he'd visited with truly no plans of starting any trouble. And now this shit. ]

Told you, didn't I. I could turn a blind eye to this -- to you being here. But if you might be a threat to what we're doing here, that's a different story. [ The hand he'd wound into Dextera's shirtfront loosens a touch, just enough that Dextera can breathe easier, though that grip doesn't relent entirely. ] Throw that away, whatever it is. Or do you really care that much about your cause?

[ Because of course Gen has no way of understanding that Dextera is afraid for him. The thought doesn't even occur to him. ]

[ there’s a small, strange sense of indignity as gen talks to him. it’s not fair that he should be misunderstood for trying to protect gen. it just isn’t. the selfish, manipulative part of him wants to rip open the bag and thrust the evidence in gen’s face, as if to say see?

but it wouldn’t prove anything, dextera knows that. it would make him look worse, even, after their last conversation. he’d tried to take the high ground as a person and apologize for the things he needed to, after all, and maliciously forcing gen to behold the internal organs of a human being he may have even met for some petty sense of pride would undo that.

unfortunately, he can’t throw it away. he can’t let gen confiscate it from him, either. ]

…

[ dextera takes a moment to calm down. he tightens his fingers around the mouth of the bag after all and tries more sincerely to jerk out of gen’s grip. if he were planning to run, he could. he could attack gen, kill him if he needed to. those are not things that are above him. he hopes that gen understands he’s not trying to escape out of some faction loyalty, even if its nascent form has bloomed in his chest.

it’s there, in the connection they share by their legacy: fear for himself has given way to concern for gen, guilt for placing him in this position. ]

[ He thinks at first that Dextera is giving in, that he's steeling himself to throw away whatever it is that's inside that sack. And while some small part of him does wonder if perhaps Dextera faces the same consequences that he might from the Regent for failure -- the way Dextera had described his state of affairs previously hadn't indicated as such. So it should be fine, right? As long as he can force Dextera to relinquish whatever secret weapon he's hiding so he can turn the other way under the pretense of having done his duty it should be fine, right?

Then Dextera tries to yank that bag out of his grip. ]

-- you little ... !

[ There's the heavy stomp of his boot as he crowds a half-step further into Dextera's personal space, looming directly over him, so close they're almost chest to chest. And the only reason he doesn't immediately sock Dextera in the face is because he feels that pang of concern gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

Conflict etches itself clear on his features even as he tightens his grip on the bag, forbidding Dextera from fleeing. But at least that desperate pulse of fear and guilt does its job -- Gen looks displeased, but when he gives a violent huff and speaks again after a long moment of tense consideration, just a fraction of the hostility's been shaved off his words. ]

... are you really that afraid? [ He still sounds dubious. How can he not? He doesn't have enough information to connect the dots of why Dextera seems so genuinely concerned about revealing the contents of some bag to him. But he can't fully deny the possibility that Dextera's concern for him might be sincere. (Maybe a small part of him even wants to believe it.) His grip on the bag loosens ever so slightly even as he grits, ] We're all out here stuck in this big mess, and you really want me to believe you're that scared for -- [ me ] ... whatever you're hiding?

[ He's doubtful. Of course he is. But the fact that he's asking Dextera for confirmation says something, doesn't he? Maybe some part of him wants to be swayed into believing Dextera. ]

[ despite his resolve in coming this far, dextera is so afraid of gen’s approach. of gen himself, not quite as much, but there’s a big difference in facing someone when he’s prepared for a fight and being forced to deal with them when he’s torn between self-preservation and… whatever he’s trying to get across with gen. his heart leaps into his throat in time with gen’s threat, his whole body tensing in preparation to be struck.

gen doesn’t, though, and instead seems to finally pick up on what dextera has been anxiously projecting without even fully realizing it. ]

…

[ he exhales and draws a second shallow breath in almost the same instant, and this repeats a few times as if he needs to find the words. he hasn’t always been mute, after all; the habit still exists within him, to want to calm down and collect his thoughts.

then he shuts his mouth and nods firmly, practically to the point of begging in his gaze. don’t look. don’t make him show you. ]

[ He hates that look Dextera gives him. Eyes wide and watery, brow raised in a silent plea, lips pressed together thinly. He hates that it makes something twinge painfully deep in his chest -- because it makes him want to erase it with violence, because it reminds him too much of someone else, because it makes him want to give in to it so it will go away. And that maelstrom of conflicting emotions is made clear in the way Gen only tightens his grip on the bag further for a moment, fabric creaking between his fingers as he considers ripping it out of Dextera's grasp to spill its contents on the ground.

It's not the pathetic look Dextera gives him that ultimately changes his mind. If it weren't for that prickle of emotions carried through their shared Legacy, he really would have treated Dextera like a threat to be dismantled. But there it is, that discomforting and foreign wash of concern needling at his thoughts, and it's just enough that he can't ignore it completely.

Gen huffs a hard exhale before slowly, slowly starting to loosen his fingers from around that sack. He willfully ignores the sensation of something heavy and wet shifting inside the fabric -- ]

... you know, don't you. [ -- and instead focuses solely on Dextera. Looking into his eyes as he speaks at a hoarse deadpan, his words forcefully ironed flat. ] If this is something that'll cause trouble for us ... that's my life on the line. For letting you go. You know that, right?

[ His real question, though, is one that goes unsaid. 'Do you really care?' ]

[ dextera has heard plenty by now about what the regent expects of their subjects. he doesn’t know the details, and with any luck, he’ll never know, but he can expect certain things of a familiar dictator. treachery is worse than failure; if dextera were to cause problems with his tucked away little secret, and the regent found out that gen had not properly intervened, it would be worse than gen’s life. the regent would not thin their numbers so easily.

it’s important that dextera conveys now that he knows, he knows, but he won’t let gen get hurt for this. there’s no need.

so first, he nods. it doesn’t say anything itself, that quick little jerk of his head. the silent question may have gone unheard. but then dextera gently removes one hand from the bag, and places it on gen’s chest instead. at their proximity, it’s not a hard motion to make, and any pressure from his hand would just make it trying to shove gen away. instead, his palm lingers there, and the entreaty is made between that touch and his gaze.

this, at least, won’t hurt gen. dextera can’t lie to himself and pretend that there will never be a day where his selfish desires take precedence over gen’s safety, but he’s lucky that now, with full sincerity, he can promise that this is not something that will see gen punished. ]

…

[ his answer is all there, not only in their legacy but in the slight way dextera’s fingers tense. believe him, at least this time. ]

[ He can't help tensing at first when Dextera uncurls his hand from where fingers have tugged desperate furrows into the fabric of that bag, reflexively steeling himself for the possibility of some sort of lashing out.

Instead, there's only the faint weight of Dextera's palm coming to rest against his sternum, a small spot of warmth that he can feel even through the fabric of his shirt. And in combination with those wide eyes that look at him -- look at him properly, seeing him and not something else ... ]

... get out of here.

[ Unlike Dextera's gentle contact, Gen's movement is rougher when he finally relinquishes his grip on that bag, but only by shoving Dextera a half-step away. It forces Dextera to pull his hand away from his chest, and Gen only manages to meet Dextera's eyes for a moment longer before looking aside. Funny, how he'd longed so much for someone to look at him like that, but actually maintaining it for more than a few moments at a time always feels exhausting. (Especially when it's Dextera.)

Still, Gen's voice is quiet and lower now, and there's the scuff of boots against the pavement as he falls back a half-step, giving Dextera just enough room to flee. ]

I won't overlook it if I see you around here again.

[ 'So just this once, I'll pretend I didn't see you.' ]

[ it feels like the contents of his bag have found life again, the meat and tissue inside pulsing in response to his own beating heart—somehow, he’s gotten out of this, and it’s not lost on him that it’s because of gen’s unexpected mercy rather than dextera’s own aptitude that he’s not being hauled into achamoth this instant. ]

…

[ dextera barely waits for gen’s second sentence. he squeezes the bag close to him, in the same instant giving gen a wide-eyed expression of surprise—gratitude is implied, thanks to his limitation—before he turns heel and runs, escaping hopefully for sure this time out of the perimeter of the city and towards the portal that will take him home. ]

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EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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