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 Shops are open, and its people are withdrawn but superficially friendly when meeting strangers.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

[ Matt meets Liem's scandalized expression with a sweet smile of his own. He can't help wanting to play with him like this--his reactions are incredible, and Matt senses Liem doesn't totally mind being teased.

That reverie dissipates into a stunned laugh at the word minx, bright and tossed back to the sky. (Luckily, the market below is noisy enough that they don't draw attention--and even if they did, they're both too low to the rooftop to be spotted easily.) Matt's been called a lot of names in his time, some of which he even likes. But he's never been called a minx. ]

Oh, [ he sighs, thigh shifting under Liem's hand. His neck arches luxuriantly at the touch of his mouth, and he shoots Liem a breathless grin. ] That's me. Shame holds you back.

[ Matt says oh again, sharper this time, as Liem starts to kiss his neck in earnest. His hips roll against Liem's, seeking more of that addictive contact; his fingers curl over Liem's shoulder, then fist into the fabric of his shirt. ]

[Liem hadn't necessarily been expecting a laugh in response to his gentle admonishment. The bright sound flies into the air like a flock of colourful birds, tempting a smile from him as he nuzzles into Matt's neck. A soft, wanting sound escapes him, muffled by warm skin, at the roll of hips beneath his, and he rocks down against him to chase it. A long moment later, he pulls back from his kiss just enough to murmur against Matt's neck.]

Mm… It's doing a poor job of it right now.

[Usually shame holds Liem back quite effectively, but opportunities like this one present themselves to him so rarely. Now that he's already slipped into a moment's indulgence, he may as well properly enjoy it. He'll be berating himself later either way.

So he lingers at Matt's throat, sliding up to press another, softer kiss just beneath the line of his jaw. Then he draws back to finally admire the sanguine mark he's made.]

That looks so good on you…

[ This is one of Matt's favorite sensations in the universe: hips grinding against his while someone does things to his neck. Kissing, sucking, biting--he isn't picky as long as it makes his skin feel electric and hot, and Liem is doing an enviable job. Matt's hips squirm against him with fresh urgency.

Liem makes to pull back, and Matt loosens his hold just enough to allow it (though not enough to let go of his shirt). When Liem speaks--when he looks down at him in that arresting way--Matt breathes another rapt sigh. He wishes keenly that he could be touching more of him, and the urge comes out in a lowering of his lashes, a dip of his chin, and an earnest murmur: ]

Thank you for giving it to me.

[ Liem's sitting on him, so he probably can't help noticing exactly how much Matt liked getting that mark. Still, he feels the need to put words around it, to make a show of deference--even submission, if Liem likes. ]

[Although they know each other only through certain narrow avenues, in many ways not especially well, Matt seems to have a knack for finding Liem's buttons and getting his curious kitten paws all over them. Liem pulls back from him flushed, beguiled by the look he aims from beneath lowered lashes, hopelessly preoccupied by the growing excitement he feels pressed against his thigh. Desire makes his heart thump hard against his ribs. His lips part as his eyes flick wider, and he—

Can't help but want to dip back down to lick at the mark on his neck; to kiss his throat again and coax more of that hot, eager urgency from him; to find out what it would take to make him moan—or beg. He can't help wanting to hear his name on Matt's lips. He can't help wanting to use his teeth.

He glances away, unwilling to see his own naked appetite reflected in Matt's eyes, and swallows to unstick the breath that suddenly jumps into his throat.]

… Your arm. Is it uncomfortable to use it? Or touch it?

[ Their eyes meet, the contact searing. Matt's breathless as he waits for how Liem will answer him, what words those temptingly parted lips will form next. The moment stretches between them, Matt's blood pounding in his ears--

And Liem looks away.

... Huh. Matt thought that was about to go differently. Liem's signals now seem unambiguous--the change of focus, the change of subject--but Matt's brain can't help replaying the moments that came just before. The way he looked at him.

There's a beat before he replies. ]

It's okay. [ Liem is unlikely to believe "it doesn't hurt" at this point, but the liquor has taken the edge off marvelously. ] I wouldn't want to put weight on it or anything, but I think a little's okay at the elbow ...

Here.

[ Matt lifts the stump of his left wrist, wrapped in dark bandages, and presents his left arm for Liem's perusal. He's a bit hesitant, a little wary, but Liem asked: Liem can probably handle the answer. ]

You want to touch, and I'll tell you if it feels okay?

[ It's phrased as a question, but Matt sees himself as presenting a route forward, and he sounds that way. There's almost a soothing tone to his voice. ]

[Liem doesn’t look back at Matt until he speaks again—until he’s confident that his unfairly-inviting look has shifted into something less dangerous. He slows his breathing in an effort to combat the eager thudding of his heart. When he meets his eyes again, his expression is slightly sheepish.

Though his look both softens and steadies when Matt offers him his cloth-wrapped arm.]

Oh… Please do.

[Even with the invitation, he hesitates at first to touch it. The offer can’t erase his suspicion that he’ll inadvertently make the limb feel worse, regardless of his best intentions. For a moment he just looks, using his eyes to map the way muscle and bone terminates abruptly at the site of his missing hand.

But he does reach for the arm then, his fingers alighting first over Matt’s elbow, and skimming slowly along skin and then black cloth as he moves down his wrist. He stops before he reaches the stump itself, instead pausing his fingertips as gently as moths’ wings on the bandaged section just before his wrist bone. And he looks back down to meet his eyes.]

How’s this?

[ Matt's own feelings of uncertainty begin to melt away, starting as Liem looks at him. There's an intelligence behind that look, a careful weighing--and when Liem begins to touch his left arm, that's careful too. Part of Matt half-expected that it would hurt, the way it's hurt sometimes when his retainer bumps him the wrong way, and he'd have to try to manage the fact. Instead, it's just ... a lot. Surprisingly a lot. ]

That's good.

[ Murmured. After a long beat, Matt looks up to find Liem looking down at him. He exhales on a soft sigh, urging ease through his limbs--from his lungs through his veins, out to the tips of his fingers and blunt throb of his stump. ]

You're gentle, [ he adds, softer. Barely above a whisper. ] I like it.

[ No intentional provocation this time. Just the facts: Liem is gentle. Matt likes it. ]

[There have been many occasions in Liem’s life when by necessity, despite his own wants, he had to be cold, had to be hard and cruel and uncaring. And there have been occasions when he chose to be cautious, when he strove to do no harm—only for those in his life to question or even criticize him for holding back. For offering care and consideration when what they wanted was passion and warmth.

He has so rarely ever found himself to simply be enough, but Matt looks up at him with a kind of wary softness, he feels like in this instance at least, he has done the right thing. His fingers stroke the underside of his wrist, where his pulse beats beneath the sheath of bandages, and close loosely around it in a cool, pallid bracelet. Carefully, he coaxes the arm aside, back down to the roof beside his head.

And he leans down, gently, to find his lips again.]

EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (VENERA)

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