EVENT #3: THE COST OF INNOCENCE

[aionmods]

The Cost of Innocence

INVESTIGATION

As the Aions arrive in Venera, they will find the natural beauty of the city in sharp contrast to its uncomfortable aura. Though the sun still shines and flowers still bloom in a place filled with physical vibrancy and life, the air itself is impossibly still, as if wind no longer blows. You can taste the stagnancy of it when you breathe, and the pleasant sights only make that feeling of absence more haunting. The streets are mostly empty, with most of the city's residents hiding away in their homes, fearing the touch of whatever illness has caused this. That is, all the citizens besides those most affected, who wander the streets in a lifeless and painless daze.

Normally, Venera would be occupied by both Hylician and Achamite soldiers, but it quickly becomes apparent that both have abandoned the city, only guarding its furthest outskirts. Their reasons vary: the Achamite soldiers seem to take religious objection to the feeling of the city, believing it to be some trickery of the Innocent, while the Hylicians simply see it as a plague they have no interest in catching or spreading. Because of this, it will be easy for Aions of both sects to explore with little pushback from any form of law enforcement. The Kenoma will be directed into the city with warnings about the potential physical and spiritual danger while Pleroma will be able to sneak in mostly unbothered. After all, no one is eager to follow you.

Most shops and businesses are currently closed, though some uninfected individuals still nervously keep watch over their workplaces, fearing potential looting. It's difficult, but not impossible, to find people to talk to, and while the most plentiful wanderers are the infected, the reactions from those with their minds still intact will vary. Some will be eager to speak to anyone who looks like they're trying to do something about their situation, desperate for any source of outside help. If revealed you are an Aion, this may either entice them even further or cause them to retreat, as if fearing that you are somehow to blame for their plight. For those that are enticed, it will become clear that they hold onto faith that Aions are in Horos to save them, and will tell these new arrivals whatever they can without discriminating between sects.

The base level information that can be found is thus: the infection began at the same levels it has been in the rest of Horos, only for the numbers of the afflicted to rapidly accelerate upon the coming of the Innocent's Moon. Some see it as a form of divine punishment for their cooperation with the Regent, while the less cooperative citizens see it as a malady brought about by the Aions themselves, their only hope being that they will be able to clean up the mess they made. Some citizen have managed to corral their inflicted loves ones into their rooms and will be willing to introduce you; most of these individuals are past the point of conversation, and seem fully lost to whatever fantasy world they are experiencing. They are disinterested in eating or drinking and it seems like, without help, they are destined for a slow death of starvation and atrophy. That is, if their apathetic state doesn't result in a severe accident, as it has in many cases already.

Any other clues will take more dogged investigation. It will be a day or so after the majority of Aions have arrived in the city that the first signs of their own infections become clear.

HEAVENLY BODIES

The first to feel its effects will be the Innocents, Lovers, and Celebrants; like a voice has fully awakening to them, whispering of how their touch can be the cure to the others' pain. It bids them to take their fellow Aions into their loving embrace, to share this gift, as only suffering lies ahead. It expresses without words that it will be a shield for their Aion kindred, and that those that accept will become their outstretched hands to a cosmos that craves peace. Any form of physical contact with those three Legacies will either introduce or rapidly accelerate the infections experienced by the others, this effect only becoming more intense if the wielder intentionally forces the power of this strange entity into their victims.

Even without that accelerating touch, however, other Aions are not necessarily safe; the infection will still seep in, albeit more slowly. All Aions may experience a growing feeling of connection to the infected Venerans, as if the energy within them is being drawn into their their own bodies. As the Aion's symptoms worsen, the the ones suffered by the Venerans will gradually lessen, though not go away entirely. It seems that the Aions soaking up this strange power is enough to take the edge off of what is happening to the citizens: but at what cost?

Various symptoms will manifest in afflicted Aions with outcomes far more diverse and devastating than what the Veneran civilians have experienced. Visionaries, Firebrands, and Artisans will suffer the most catastrophic symptoms, the clash between their spiritual natures and that of the Innocence being the most extreme. This malady is characterized by its innate desire to quell its victims of their resistance, smothering them in artificial peace, even if it has to deprive them of their bodies and minds to do so.

It is not without treatment, however. It will gradually become apparent that feelings of intense suffering or upset are capable of purging the infection, that clash with painful reality seeming to wake them up from their trance and reduce or eliminate physical symptoms. The more intense the distress, the more effective it will be. Fortunately, this heightening of Aion spiritual energy has the added consequence of making empathic communion connections far more acute. Instead of just transmitting and receiving emotions and thoughts, Aions will find themselves more easily able to enter the delusions and memories of their kindred, drawing them out and manipulating them for this purpose. The catch is that they will only be able to access what is on the surface of the other Aion's mind.

When an infection is reduced or expelled this way, the energy causing it seems to be dispelled from the city, lowering the intensity of its ambient effects. While similar can be done to Veneran citizens to help treat them, the energy will not leave, and will either go into the Aion casting it out or return to the nebulous source of Innocence and eventually infect someone else. Something about going through the Aions specifically seems to act as a filter, as unpleasant of a way as it is to help.

IN THE SILENCE

For those unlucky enough to develop complete, or near complete, infections (IE. a full Innocence petrification) a presence will awaken within them regardless of their Legacy. It will urge them to join with it, to embrace the peace it offers, and to become the extensions of their will in this ravaged world. With an infection of this intensity, there will be little they can do but to hear its call. What exactly this would ultimately entail is unclear, but there is the sense that his entity is looking to join with you on a spiritual level. If your character becomes infected to this degree please let us know under the Committed Actions toplevel below along with the context of that transformation and whether or not they are being cured from it. You may receive some additional information in return!

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Venera?
The quickest travel paths are for Kenoma to take a boat from Achamoth, which will take about a day, and for Pleroma to teleport to the Celebrant's shrine and take either a carriage or river boat to the city (there are offshoot rivers not marked on the setting map). The riverboats would be the faster option option of the two, and would also take about a day. The carriages/delivery carts would be slower and take a couple days, but have relay access to horses and therefore could keep going overnight. Characters with flight are also able to use that, though flying right into the city might cause a bit of spectacle. Then again, none of the local law enforcement is eager to chase you at the moment.

Are Veneran civilians experiencing the same symptoms as the Aions?
Veneran civilians are only experiencing apathy/loss of self/daydreaming and maybe the loss of pigments/color for advanced cases. The more body horror orientated effects are Aion only and are being caused by their body's spiritual makeup.

Can 'cured' Aions be reinfected?
Yes! Even if cured or treated, symptoms can return or worsen again. This will keep happening until the build up of Innocence energy in Venera is entirely expunged, at which point the illness will fade away across the continent. Whether or not the Aions mere presence will be enough to trigger that is yet unknown, but it does seem to be helping lessen the effects suffered by the civilians, at least.

How long does the infection period last in Aions?
Chronologically, we are considering the infection period of the plot to last 2-3 days.

Comments

Liem Talbott | Kenoma | Champion

[sterngaze]

[Closed starters are going here! If you want to do something with Liem for the event, feel free to hit me up at his plotting comment, or on my plurk at Sporelett. You can also find me on discord if you're in the game server.]

Eustace

[sterngaze]

[In one of Venera’s lower-end market districts, the red light of early dusk throws long shadows over a hushed, narrow street, swathing half of it in darkness as violet as a bruise. A small man in long dark robes wanders the road, keeping to the shadows by accident more than any kind of steady intention. He has misplaced his hat at some point, leaving his head bare, and the collar of his robes seems rumpled, pushed away from his neck by the small white scarf surrounding it. His manner is aimless, his gait ambling as he walks. At one point he trips over a loose cobble, and although he doesn’t fall, he stands in the road for nearly a full minute afterward, staring at nothing, until he finally seems to recall his journey. Once again, he begins walking.

The road curves slightly as it progresses. The shadows shift, and eventually he steps out of them, the slanting dusk rays making him squint. In the light his black robes become dusty and misshapen, and the white scarf at his neck becomes a mass of tightly-folded wings. Despite the shadows stretching in long lines from everything in sight, the man casts no silhouette on the street as he wanders, passing abandoned storefronts and cafes. Eventually he comes to a small plaza with a fountain at its centre, and here he stops again, gazing at the fountain as though trying to remember something about it. Has he seen that fountain before? Should he know where he is?

He doesn’t remember… but that’s of no great importance just now. His dark-eyed gaze remains on the fountain, but he isn’t looking at it. He isn’t looking at much of anything—and as he stands there in the fading light, a pair of silvery wings extends from his temples and slides forward to fold slowly over his eyes.]

[lockedon]

[ It's only by happenstance that Eustace comes across Liem perched by the edge of the fountain, mistaken at first for yet another townsperson wandering out without supervision. Dangerous enough during the day when everything's well-illuminated and practically a death sentence towards nighttime when all the worst dangers are cloaked by lengthening shadow. Better to corral this guy towards some safehouse for the time being instead of having to plan yet another burial come morning.

Except closer inspection as he approaches reveals the man to be a fellow Aion rather than Just Another NPC, the feathers on the sprouted pair of wings fluttering softly in the evening breeze. Ducking slightly down, he peeps through the cover of wings, trying to glean some knowledge of the face underneath. A mistake, because it turns out he's seen this face around the halls of the Citadel.

Troublesome. At least if it was someone he didn't recognize, he could just leave them there as someone else's problems. He sighs, straightening. ]

Hey.

[ He grabs the man by the arm, gives him a sturdy shake. Says again, louder this time: ]

Hey. You should get inside.

[sterngaze]

[Placid stillness radiates from Liem as he stands by the fountain, no longer looking at it or at anything at all. His eyes are still open behind the tiny wings covering his brows, but his vision is obscured by the layer of soft, pale grey feathers folded across them. He has sunk into another reality altogether, and his eyes now see things that aren't truly there.

Only muscle memory keeps him upright when Eustace grabs his arm and gives him a rough shake. Liem takes a small step back, turning his face toward the other man with a vaguely inquisitive set to his mouth. But he doesn't speak. The wings covering his eyes do not lift. And, after another moment, the line of his mouth softens into a gentle smile. Whatever he's seeing in his dream, it is far more welcome than the sight that lies before him now.]

[lockedon]

[ No response other than a small movement. Predictable but disappointing.

Eustace considers again the benefits of resorting to Communion and wading through another man's private memories. It'll be a happy memory, no doubt, pleasant and welcoming. It must be, based solely on the gentle expression on the man's face. But what would he have to say to rip this man out of his daydream? What damage is he going to have to inflict upon this man's mind in order to snap him out of this delusion?

It seems cruel. Bodies heal quicker, and even quicker here in Horos with the aid of healing magic. Surely suffering through a brief bout physical pain is preferable to walking around with the knowledge that a stranger might know of your deepest desires and secrets? Though it's not as though he can ask either way.

Letting go of the man's shoulder, he changes his grip, fingers grabbing hold of the wings that sprout from Liem's temple and giving them a sharp, vicious yank. Could he pull them out, if he tried hard enough? Would it even do anything? ]

Whatever you're seeing in there, it's not real. Let it go.

[sterngaze]

[The sharp tug on the wing at his temple jostles Liem from the very depths of his dreaming, replacing his soft expression with a flash of startled pain. But it's a minor thing—the kind of pain that might flicker across your face from the bite of an insect or the accidental nip of your tongue. Although the motion is vicious enough to jerk his head aside, the influence shrouding his mind keeps the pain from penetrating too deeply.]

Hey now—not so rough.

[The murmured admonishment is offered belatedly, Liem's one visible eye finally fixing on Eustace's face. There's a dull, glazed look to the blue-and-black gaze that suggests what Liem is seeing may not entirely align with reality, even now. And although his objection does seem to be aimed at the taller man, he makes no move to resist the grip seizing the wing at his temple.]

This is a joyful day. A holy day.

Gen

[sterngaze]

[Liem has been in a bad way for the past night and much of the new day as well. He’s been taking turns sinking slowly into vague, white-swathed apathy and then being ripped forcefully out of it, sometimes with not just abruptness but with violence. His dark robes are rumpled and dishevelled, grey with dust as though someone has rolled him around in the dirt. And although at least one good samaritan has already helped purge him of Innocence sickness, by now the fog of it has crept back in to confuse his thoughts and stiffen his already-aching joints. It doesn’t help that he spent very little of the past night actually sleeping, so some of the fog filling his head is more from exhaustion than it is strictly from illness.

But damn it, he has work to do, and he doesn’t have time to be sleeping on the job. Now that he has an actionable goal to focus on with regards to beating back the influence of the sickness, he’s putting every ounce of his determination into fighting off the fog so that he can help the other aions to the best of his ability. He’s determined not to end up aimlessly wandering the streets again, at least not until he’s found another helpful Kenoma to slap him back to awareness. And if it seems like he might already be close to reaching that point, well—no. He’s not. Liem rouses from a brief reverie that had him staring out over a broad thoroughfare, coming back to himself as he leans back slightly on the ledge he’s stopped to rest on, sliding his hand behind him.

He remembers that he isn’t sitting on a ledge at the same time that his arm plunges into the well behind him, taking most of him along with it as he lets out a sharp yelp. He only saves himself at the very last moment, wedged like a spider in the mouth of the well with one foot stuck over the edge and one hand clutched desperately at the stone on the opposite side. He feels very awake now, but he’s half sure that if he moves a single muscle he’s going to plummet twenty feet into the cold water at the well’s bottom.]

[epiprocta]

[ His head feels ... strange. It's not that he has a headache, it's nothing so pedestrian that's troubling him. But his thoughts feel ... foggy. It's hard focusing. Gen keeps finding himself with minutes of blank spaces in his memory, his thoughts cutting off vaguely at some point before he finds himself in another part of the city, not sure why or how he'd gotten there. And it should trouble him more -- both the memory loss and the difficulty thinking, as well as the constant itch of feathers starting to emerge from his skin and hair -- but it oddly ... doesn't? It's hard to even get mad or agitated when everything feels so hazy and difficult to grasp.

So when Gen aimlessly heads down the street for a destination he's not even sure of, and glances over at the sign of movement just in time to see a guy fall backwards into a well with a pathetic yelp, it takes him a solid moment to process what he just say. Or, well -- maybe more like a few moments.

It's only after that brief stretch of silence that Liem might hear the sound of a bark of laughter coming from the streets around the well, followed by the scuff of boots against the pavement. Those footsteps draw closer step by step, then a shadow falls over him as Gen leans over the entrance of the well; even the backlighting of the afternoon sun isn't enough to obscure the incredulous smirk that his heckler is wearing. ]

You trying out to be a stuntman or something?

[ Just like Liem, Gen now feels very awake, though his lucidity is only because the sight of this guy trembling, wedged at the entrance of the well, is the funniest thing he's seen in days. ]

[sterngaze]

[For an endless, tension-filled moment as Liem remains braced unmoving in the mouth of the well, he hears his blood pulsing in his ears and grips at the surrounding stone with wild desperation, still caught up in the startlement of falling despite having already arrested his motion. His head and shoulders are wedged up against the stone wall, one arm and leg braced against the inside as well, while his other hand and foot clutch at the stone lip. He's not in any immediate danger of slipping all the way in, but it would only take a moment's inattention to send him falling the rest of the way.

He almost doesn't register the sound of laughter over the rushing in his ears—but no, the prospect of nearby assistance is too important to overlook. Liem squints desperately up from the well as the sound of footsteps grows closer, and is rewarded by the sight of a smirking teenager.

But you know what? Things could be worse. He'll take a smirking teenager over a feeble old woman, or an unscrupulous Pleroma inclined to simply shove him the rest of the way in. This teen isn't Pleroma, he thinks. He seems vaguely familiar; Liem might have seen his face around the Citadel before, which would make him one of his fellow Kenoma aions. Gods, he hopes he's from Kenoma.]

Regrettably no.

[His reply is breathless as he gazes up at the young man. The stone inside the well is cool and slightly damp. He can feel himself sliding very, very slowly down the longer he's wedged inside it.]

Could you help me up? Please?

[epiprocta]

Hmmmmm?

[ Sorry-not-sorry Liem, he needs another moment to bask in the hilarity of the situation; Gen leisurely leans against the well's edge, chin propped up on his hand as he gazes down at his hapless new acquaintance with a shit-eating grin. ]

I dunno about that. Wonder what I get out of going through all that trouble for you ...

[ That obnoxious drawl trails off with a low snicker. Then Gen abruptly pushes away from the edge of the well and dips completely out of Liem's field of vision. For one heart-stopping moment Liem must think that he's encountered the most insufferable member of his faction who'd really doomed him to suffer alone in this well.

But thankfully(?), after a moment or two's pause, he might feel the clasp of fingers around his ankle, then a spike of pressure as Gen leans his weight on it, pinning it to the edge of the well. Unpleasant as the sensation might be, it's not being done just to make Liem even more miserable -- just that Gen wants to ensure Liem won't be falling in even if his hands slip, and to keep himself firmly anchored there. Like hell he's also going to be falling in. ]

Don't struggle.

[ That brusque command is accompanied by Gen's hand thrusting into Liem's field of vision, snagging roughly into his shirtfront. Then there's a muffled grunt as Gen pulls firmly, aiming to haul the other back into sitting position at the well's edge. ]

[sterngaze]

[Fortunately for Liem, he’s not quite so gullible as to assume that Gen is actually going to leave him here just because he appears to enjoy making him squirm. His brows knit into a frown at the direction of that drawled thought, but it’s frustration rather than despair that prompts the expression. While he doesn’t necessarily believe that Gen intends to abandon him to his fate, his enjoyment certainly could result in Liem slipping from his position if he indulges in it for too long. It’s not a pleasant thing to contemplate.

He’s hoping that if he just gives him a moment to have his chuckle, the young man will eventually get around to helping him out. And happily, this instinct proves correct. Liem winces slightly as Gen leans his weight against his ankle, but does his best to acquiesce to his direction, letting him haul him back out of the well. Liem’s heart flip-flops in his throat as he’s pried from his wedged position against the stone, but only for a moment—then he’s perched on the stone wall again, dragging his other leg back over the side and pushing away from the entire construction as though worried it might snatch him back in.]

Oh gods… Thank you.

[Despite the young man’s rather ungracious attitude, Liem’s thanks is genuinely relieved. He takes a deep breath, brushing off his rumpled robes and running a hand through his hair, and looking up at Gen, who he now sees is even taller than he might have supposed.]

Genuinely—I’m in your debt.

Lumine

[sterngaze]

[Liem has reached the point in his explorations of Venera where his lucidity tends to come and go. One moment he’ll be stopped at an intersection, writing notes in the small journal he’s taken for this trip, and then the tide of idyllic vagueness will come back in and he’ll lose long minutes standing in place, or wandering aimlessly as his feet amble on without any fixed destination. He knows by now that the encroaching confusion will only get worse, and that he should find assistance to purge him of its effects. The problem is that he only knows these things some of the time. It’s difficult to track down much in the way of help when you’re too scrambled half the time to even recall when or where you were hoping to meet any.

At the moment, his awareness has definitely reached a low ebb. Liem is meandering down a side street with his journal held loosely in one hand, squinting dozily in the watery light of early dawn, and he doesn’t seem to be particularly aware of his surroundings. This is evident enough in the way he wanders unthinkingly out of the shadow of the gabled buildings, flinching faintly when the sun hits him, but making no effort to return to the deep shade on the other side of the street. He looks wraith-like in the dawn, his dark robes dusty and unkempt as though he’s been wearing them all night, his feet leaving not so much as a shadow behind him on the cobbles.

But more evident is the way an opportunistic Veneran local, taking advantage of the glut of spaced-out victims wandering around the streets, walks up behind Liem and shoves him bodily into the side of a nearby townhome, keeping him squashed against the stone without fielding so much as a complaint. The journal flutters to land messily on the cobbles as Liem blinks in confusion, struggling back to awareness as though from a deep sleep. He only catches half of what his assailant is saying as the man pricks him encouragingly with a pocket knife.]

—your jools. Now, you dozy moron!

[traversal]

[ one would think that with the spreading contagion, people would be too apprehensive or wary of approaching those who are infected. but clearly, greed can drive common sense out of a person, hence the looting that seems to still happen in the alleyways of venera. and while lumine's not exactly on a warpath against people who are taking advantage of others, she also can't let someone get away with it, even if they're also just as much of in need of food or jools.

there's working hard for a living, and then there's working to take someone's hard work from them.

her leg shoots out first, kicking the assailant on the side and sending him across the street. she's usually never one for violence, but you know, prevention is better than cure. and what better way to prevent further violence that may be caused with a knife than, well, violence with a well-placed kick.

(yeah, lumi, this isn't teyvat anymore ...)

in any case, she turns back to the fallen man, picking up his notebook from the ground and offering it back to him. a faint smile tugs at her lips in an attempt to be friendly. ]

Are you okay?

[sterngaze]

[Liem is part way through fumbling for his coin purse when the rough pressure holding him against the house's facade suddenly disappears. He turns his head enough to spot the mugger tumbling haphazardly across the road, then pushes away from the wall to see a young woman picking his book up from the ground. Pure surprise lights his expression as he realizes his very first mugging experience in Horos has been abruptly aborted.]

Ah… yes, I am. Thank you.

[This last part he says as he accepts the offered journal, flipping through the pages to check briefly for any damage before carefully closing it and tucking it into a pocket. Liem glances back in the direction of the would-be mugger, who is currently struggling to his feet from his sprawl in the street. Clearly he wasn't prepared to encounter people with enough lucidity to fight back, though, because all he does when he regains his feet is attempt to stumble away. Liem frowns after him.]

That man… he's just going to rob someone else.

[traversal]

[ lumine's not too fussed for a moment as the thief struggles back on his feet, more concerned first about him. after all, he was the one who was held at knife-point; who knows if he's been manhandled by some other way? still, once he's confirmed that he's all right, his belongings back in his possession, does she start moving.

not that she goes off too far, holding out a hand to summon a geo construct over the thief's head. nothing too significant, since she's pretty sure he might not survive, but a big enough meteorite should do the trick and knock him out. a moment later, the other man crumples on the ground with a groan. ]

It's impressive that he could still stand, to be honest ... [ she says to herself, walking over to the unconscious guy and picking his knife up, before she turns back to his would-be victim. ] Do you know where we can find the closest law enforcement here?

[ honestly, she's yet to completely explore venera, so she doesn't know where to bring him, aaa. ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem is busy peeling himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against when Lumine turns back in the direction of the mugger, stretches out a hand, and clobbers him with a summoned rock. He watches the man crumple like a sack of bricks, wondering with some reluctance if he’s just witnessed a murder. Fortunately, if the groan is anything to go by, the local is at least still breathing.

At the young woman’s question, Liem glances around the street, considering it, then slides his gaze back to her with a thinning of his mouth.]

I’m not entirely sure where we are.

[He seems reluctant to admit this; it isn’t like him to wander dopily around a city and get completely lost. To cover some of his agitation, he crosses the distance to the mugger’s senseless body and peers down at it.]

I was walking south from the eastern market square last I recall. How far are we from there?

Abel

[sterngaze]

[The past couple of days has not been a good time for Liem when it comes to taking proper care of his needs. He has been busy walking about the city, talking to locals and aions alike, seeking out landmarks and assisting the afflicted. His own growing infections have made it difficult to pursue his tasks in Venera reliably, causing him to wander about and get into trouble that he might otherwise have avoided—and when he has been graced with the curative assistance of his fellows, the harrowing nature of it has been anything but restful.

All this to say that after being in Venera for a few days, Liem is in dire need of a break, probably in the form of a soft bed and a long, restful sleep. But rest doesn’t come easily to him at the best of times, which this most assuredly is not. He hasn’t had more than a few minutes of sleep at a time since before reaching the city’s limits, and as the Innocence’s infection continues to take hold of him again and again, it’s becoming increasingly hard for him to withstand it for any length of time.

The hour is deep night, which is historically the time that Liem has the most difficulty getting his eyes to close. Nevertheless, sleep has managed to claim him once again as he’s stopped to sag tiredly against a flower-strewn trellis. He hasn’t quite slipped into actual slumber, but instead lingers in a kind of dozing half-dream as he slumps against the plant-covered wall, looking at any moment in danger of sliding into the flower bed below and taking a nap among the blooms. Pale, silvery light pulses and fades around his head like a slow, sleeping heartbeat, and what visible skin can be seen beneath the long, dusty blackness of his robes is white and porcelain. A proper tumble against anything hard might very well crack something open—so it’s for the best that the ground below is mostly plants and dirt when he finally succumbs to gravity and crumples, dazed, into a heap.]

[inutilis]

[ Liem's sudden and unceremonious freefall to an earthy bed is very rudely interrupted.

their meeting is happenstance; Abel has found much of his time preoccupied with the natives of the city, tending to what he can as one who's managed to keep his wits about him, thus far. his path back to the family that had been kind enough to house him takes him right by this pleasant place that might be a nice spot for a chat were circumstances better... just in time to catch sight of the weak, heavy shape of a man in distress coming from the opposite direction.

Abel had been trying to get the man's attention upon realizing his predicament, slowly losing his battle against gravity to little avail; the concern behind his words might have fallen on deaf ears, but... they say actions speak loudest, right? the priest had quickly closed the gap between him and the wayward Aion, barely managing to reach Liem in time to halt his descent once the other man's legs had finally given out from under him.

is he conscious...? suppose it might not much matter if he were; his condition is obviously concerning and awareness limited. how long has it been since he's eaten? drank anything...? there is plenty of Venera's number that have already succumbed to severe dehydration alongside the other signs of neglect they'd paid their bodies. Liem is yet another victim to add to that tally.

horrible. it's horrible - and understatement as that may be, perhaps there aren't words to suit it all. ]

--hear me? Sir...? Ah... please hold on, alright...? I'm going to--

[ perhaps Liem might be dimly aware he's being lifted-- a pair of gentle arms have cradled this man gingerly as he can manage, lifting him as if he were a child; thankfully, Liem is not a man of unwieldy frame and makes for a convenient enough passenger. ]

It's okay. --You're unwell; please don't try to move too much...

[sterngaze]

[For a while, Liem’s world shrinks to the confines of his own skin, leaving the city and all its troubles beyond him. He lies limply in Abel’s arms, the stiff, ceramic quality of his skin marking him clearly as an aion, and his severe black robes marking him unambiguously as one of those hailing from Achamoth. But he does not stir enough to offer any other clues as to his origins, his purpose, or the extent of his afflictions.

Dull-edged confusion has made a home in his body. His limbs feel unaccountably heavy, but vague, as though swirling with a fog so dense as to be almost liquid. His head feels liable to float right off his shoulders. Liem swims in and out of a buzzing half-awareness, sometimes conscious of the smell of another person’s clothing and the sensation of being carried, sometimes subsiding fully into the fog of dreams pulling him from the realities of his physical body. But even the dreams are disjointed and fleeting: the mellow sound of a man’s familiar laugh, the touch of fingers in his hair, the flutter of a strong pulse and the savour of live blood.

But at length, his eyes tremble and drag themselves open so he can stare blearily about him, and he shifts, confused, in Abel’s grasp. The last thing he can remember is walking about the city; the reasons for his current circumstances escape him. He moves again, craning his head away from the unfamiliar man carrying him, and struggles to raise his voice above a confused murmur.]

What are you doing?

[inutilis]

[ Abel's feet have carried them a block or two away by the time that Liem shows signs of stirring; he must possess an especially stubborn will to keep conscious considering the condition he's in... it would be impressive if it weren't so worrisome.

the priest gives a soft noise of surprise to find his passenger coming to-- and flashes what he hopes is a reassuring, if slightly sheepish, smile; there's a concern in his eyes behind the lenses of his old-fashioned glasses, a harried sort of worry masked poorly by an excessive amount of friendly cheer. ]

--Ah! There he is, Sleeping Beauty...! --That is, ah. Probably not the right fable to use, I-- I didn't do anything untoward, sir, I'm simply-- um,

[ --oh my God, why, he really needs to think about what he says before he lets it cascade from his mouth hole like this?? help-- ]

--You fainted, sir, so... please relax, okay? I'm going to take you somewhere you can rest for a bit; it's not far at all. You're in good hands, even-- even if I sorely need to work on my introductory skills, please forgive me...

[sterngaze]

[Oh boy, that is a lot of words coming out of this man's mouth in quick succession, and Liem does not have a lot of brain power to spare for processing right now. He gazes at him in stupefaction as Abel rambles, his meaning struggling through his brain as though through thick pudding. He has no chance of decoding Abel's opening lines about Sleeping Beauty, which is probably for the best. Instead, he seizes on something much more immediate and easily recognizable.]

You haven't introduced yourself at all.

[What is meant to be just a mild observation comes out as sort of a woozy, slightly petulant grumble. He moves again in Abel's grasp, disregarding the request to relax in order to instead wriggle in an attempt to become upright.]

And I don't… have time to be resting. I have somewhere I need to be.

[Now if only he could remember where that actually was, or why he needs to go there.]

Kaeya

[sterngaze]

[As his stay in Venera has progressed, the demands on Liem's time have begun to come more and more in the form of connecting with his fellow aions. He's done a fair bit of information-gathering already; now he's better served by finding other members of his faction to discuss their findings with, and perhaps thereby come to some form of greater conclusion. Certainly Liem by himself couldn't begin to say what sort of power is affecting Venera's citizens, or how that power might be halted.

He's begun to make more frequent use of communion in order to seek out his fellows, and is currently making rounds to connect with a few who are currently not too far from his own location. These chats could be done over communion as well, he supposes, but there's one more thing compelling him to check on the others in person: he's concerned some of them might be falling prey to the sickness themselves. He'll feel more at ease if he's able to gauge their conditions for himself, and so he's on the lookout for one aion who, at last count, was meant to be in a nearby part of Venera's downtown.

Liem heads there at a brisk pace, glancing around street corners down abandoned shopping districts and peering into closed-up storefronts as he goes. He wonders how many of the apartments above the little shops are actually occupied, and how many are awaiting occupants who simply never returned home. A district like this one should never be so quiet; the stillness puts him on edge as he makes his watchful way through it.]

[subsist]

[ the stillness extends past the empty streets and abandoned shops.

kaeya can be found off to the side, near a closed bakery shop, staring at something bright and flickering from the distance. it appears someone has left an open flame unattended in one of these streets many winding corners, and kaeya is much like a lost moth drawn to it. he doesn't even notice that someone else is nearby.

all that matters is the flame up ahead, and something compels him to come closer. his footsteps are quiet as he moves forward, almost as if he's gliding effortlessly from one place to the next. his wings flutter behind him, his hair stark white and pristine. he hesitates when he feels the heat radiating from the fire, but he ignores all his doubts, finally raising a hand.

he reaches forward, fingers gradually getting closer and closer. ]

[sterngaze]

[In the quiet stretch of abandoned street that Liem is traversing, the pale, softly-moving figure ahead of him stands out like a ghost under a street lamp. He turns toward the movement, approaching alertly, and hazards a call toward them even as he notes the white hair and feathered wings stretching from the figure.]

Excuse me—wait a moment, please.

[By this time he’s familiar with the bleaching that seems to affect those most afflicted by the sickness, and he isn’t necessarily expecting a response. But when he spies the object of Kaeya’s interest, an unattended flame the man is wandering straight towards, Liem breaks from a brisk trot into a run. He hastens across the street as the afflicted man approaches the flame, skidding to a halt beside him and snatching his raised hand just as he’s reaching it toward the glowing heat.]

Not today, sir, [he pants sternly, pushing Kaeya’s wrist down again. He steadies his shoulder with his other hand, just in case the man was thinking of diving face-first into the glow.]

Talk to me instead. Have you your wits about you?

[subsist]

[ someone robs him of the chance to feel fire against his skin. confusion twists itself all over his features, but it's obvious he isn't entirely aware of liem's presence just yet. his eye is still locked on the open flame, enticing him to try and try again. he moves his hand along with liem's, closer and closer still.

he's the one who stops the advance this time around. it's as if a spell has finally released its hold on him. ]

... Hm?

[ as if finally realizing he isn't alone, he turns to face the other aion. ]

Did you say something?