lifeaftr | March Adventure: Swim with the Current and Float Away

Entry tags:

March Adventure: Swim with the Current and Float Away

NEW ISLAND: AI'TUOH

Who: Anyone who feels brave...or particularly lawful
What: A city worth exploring, and a people worth meeting
When: March 10th and onward
Where: Ai'tuoh
Warnings: The themes you might associate with strict punishment and rule-based dystopias will abound, along with nonconsensual drugging/sedation for those found guilty in the streets. Otherwise, mark as needed!

The Overview: Ai'tuoh
The dawn of the 10th will see the appearance of the promised island on the horizon. The smooth, even planes of city walls rear across the expanse of sandy beach, but beyond that, no particular discerning characteristics can be immediately glean. That same morning, characters will awaken from a brief dream, wherein the Storyteller will advise that the new island accessible via mana pool - and they suggest, with some trepidation, that you do not make the location of said mana pool on the new land immediately obvious to the natives. It's clear that something has put them on edge, though they've yet to say what.

Welcome, adventurers, to the island of Ai'tuoh.

Our City, Our Rules
Ai'tuoh is home to a sprawling city, built of smooth, sandy stone. Its architecture is simple, precise, and uniform, valuing utility above all else - function to the exclusion of form. The homogeneity of the people of Ai'tuoh extends beyond the similar, monochrome spectrum of their apparel. Despite the gradations of skin color and the subtle shifts in the shades of their hair - all falling within established limits, of course - they all appear to be more or less human. But most striking of all is the stern warning emblazoned across the city's gates. It translates as follows:

May those who violate our law be cleansed in the Standing Water.

The Unerring Law of the people of Ai'tuoh can be found in the library, which contains little besides some five hundred copies of the same dispassionate lists of various laws, most of which you've probably already broken by the time you've entered.

If you plan on stopping by, we'd recommend taking the time to explore the docks first - those that frequent that particular area are rather more forthcoming to travelers. You might find someone sympathetic to your plight, willing to offer some helpful hints.

Holding Cells: Awaiting Your Trial
Those unlucky enough to be caught by the concealed militia taskforce of the city will be sedated on sight of their violation, and will wake in a small, smooth-stoned room. There are no windows, and only one door - and it won't be opening under your duress.

The holding cell into which you've been deposited is beyond barebones; while clean and uniform, it lacks even the basic commodities of a bed and bucket. It seems that there's no need to plan for keeping prisoners in the long term. No one drops by to visit, and no one addresses you if they pass through. Your only company is in your cellmates, who you might be able to hear through the walls, provided you raise your voice over the soft, buzzing hum that permeates the air; a magical suppression field, to ensure that those with particular talents cannot exert them to break the law's hold.

The barracks are sorted into clusters of several buildings, each with variety of cells hidden in secluded pockets. To contrast the uniformity of the city itself, there is no such order here; the buildings are designed to be difficult to break into, and even harder to orient oneself in.

Those who are being kept in holding until their cleansing will not be in complete isolation forever. There are a number of militia who patrol the prison areas to ensure peace is being kept...and some might even be open to conversation.

For OOC information about Ai'tuoh and the city's laws, please see our recent OOC information post!

Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the Locations Page, which has details regarding the starting areas and a handy map for those who feel better with a bird's eye view!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. you're not the big fish in the pond no more

[They're good at this kind of thing.]

[Granted, it takes them a bit to catch on. Not too long. Within hours of departing the docks and seeing the city for themself, Frisk notices things. The steel imprinted into each individual face. The children following at the perfectly proper distant at their parents' heels; bowed, quiet, unsmiling. A toddler who raises their chubby arms and coos and is hushed instantly by their father, his eyes darting to a row of identical buildings in the distance.]

[After that, Frisk gets a very good idea of what they're dealing with.]

[The first day, they find a pile on the docks and sit, observing. They go into the city. They stay away from the barracks, but spend plenty of time in the marketplace, watching goods and commerce exchange hands while sitting under the shade of an apple merchant's tarp. They spend some time at the library and read the rules. They keep their weapon concealed; their locket, thankfully, they've always worn underneath their collar.]

[Throughout it all, Frisk never says a word. They know better.]

ii. you are what they're feeding on

[Starting from the eleventh onwards, Frisk can be found lounging about the first floor of the inn, dressed in a dull beige coat that reaches to their knees. For the most part, they sit quietly at the bar, the tables, holding empty glasses or chewing on crackers, continuing their silent observation of those who come and go.]

[If someone catches their eye -- especially someone who's obviously breaking the laws of this place just by standing there and existing -- they might slide up, pulling down their hood.]

If you need help, I can run errands. Or get information.

[You know what's funny? Trying to watch a handful of clunky humans try to catch a very wily, and extremely slippery canine. You know what's funnier? Getting caught, finally, and shoved into the most bare-bones of cages and expected to just...y'know, stay there. Withing the hour of her capture, after taking a quick nap to regain her strength, the wolf breaks out of her cage with ease, and trots merrily right out of her so-called prison with very little effort as well. And the first thing she does with her freedom? Take a ripe little shit on their front steps.

Fuck da police.

Of course, she's learned a bit from this jail break - this place is bananas and she needs to pretend she belongs to someone to even be permitted to walk the streets (and probably not poo on anything else). It's very easy for her to navigate the dark alleys and tight quarters of the market stalls - the people here are so busy with their buying and selling that they barely notice a flicker of white in their peripheral. Ammy utilizes both her stealth and her speed here, until she picks up a familiar scent.

Perking up her ears, the wolf follows her nose, snuffling at the ground before beginning to track the smell. It's not one she's scented in some time, but her nose is far superior in terms of memorizing. In no time at all she's located her target, and Frisk might see the fluffy, white nose peek out from under the tarp of the stall next to them, snorting loudly as her nostrils flare with their scent.

Found you. ♥]

[The people here don't seem to mind children. Not intrinsically, anyway -- not ones who are quiet and polite and who keep out of the way. The owner of the apple cart eyes their faded-color sweater warily for the third time, however, which makes them think it may be time to pack up and go somewhere else soon. Maybe find some clothes that will attract less attention.]

[It doesn't seem like stripes have the same connotation here as they do back home.]

[They're eying a particularly dusty apple listing off the edge of the cart when a loud snuffling noise grabs their attention. Eyebrows raising, they turn their gaze downward. The familiar white muzzle is a dead giveaway.]

[Frisk is good enough to school their smile, and instead take a quick glance about. The owner has moved away for the moment... and the good thing about being a well-behaved kid is that people are quick to dismiss you once they're convinced you won't run rampant.]

[Their hand flashes up and snatches the apple, eyes still darting about. Feeling assured that their petty theft wasn't spotted, Frisk scoots a little closer to the tarp and sets the goods down right in front of that snowy little nose.]

[bon applétit.]

[What a good child. And where any other god may reprimand this act of petty theft, this particular goddess dives back under the tarp with the stolen goods, panting happily. Amaterasu has seen (or really, smelled) your offering, and heartily accepts. Of course, a present such as this, in a town where even a dusty apple comes with a strict and hefty price, is not one she eyes without gratitude. Gifts of the earth are still gifts, and food is better served among many, not simply one.

Beneath the tarp, Frisk may hear something like a quiet thunk - like that of a knife cutting through a somewhat solid object. The sound isn't one that would gather much attention, either - plenty of the stall owners and grocers are cutting up meats and produce. It's just another sound lost to the bustle of the bazaar. However, a moment after they hear the sound, that same, furry, white nose appears out from the tarp, pushing out exactly half of the stolen apple, cut perfectly down the middle.

Itadakimasu.]

[They raise their eyebrows, not expecting to have half of the apple shoved back towards them, but not entirely surprised. They don't think she remembers them, but Frisk certainly remembers her; recalls that she has some kind of power that's similar to magic. In either case, they take the apple and rub their sleeve against it, removing any smudged dirt that might have gotten on it.]

[They eye their surroundings. They probably shouldn't eat this right out in the open, when that guy could come back at any moment...]

[Making an executive decision, Frisk shoves the apple into their mouth and bites into it, freeing their hands so that they can lift the tarp and crawl underneath. Make room, doggy.]

[Well, Ammy's not exactly a large wolf, there's plenty of room under the tarp, though she does shuffle over a bit when she sees that they're making their way under. Ammy thumps her tail against the ground the moment she sees Frisk, teeth clamped around the half of the apple she cut up for them. Heh heh, that's cute...glad you're enjoying, little one. Hopefully, they're not found before they get the chance to finish it...otherwise she'd going to have to make a hasty retreat with her little friend here.

Nodding to her side, Ammy invites the young child to lay against her. She's soft, and despite her smaller than average size, she's quite sturdy. Frisk will find no complaint if they lay their weight upon her. She welcomes it, in fact, and leans close to nose at their face. There may she no familiarity there, but there will always be love held in those dark eyes.]

[It doesn't matter if she remembers them or not; they know a doggy's love never fades. The skin around Frisk's eyes fan with happy little crinkles, and they take the apple out of their mouth as they settle against her and she leans her face in closer. Setting the fruit half into their lap, they place their hands on the sides of her head and give her a playful ruffling, leaning their own nose in to boop clumsily against hers. Since when have they minded apple-y dog breath? Never, that's when.]

[She won't see it, they don't think, with their faces this close -- but Frisk's smile turns a little sad. They pull away and wipe their sleeve over the wet spot her nose leaves on theirs.]

Hi, Snowpoff.

[Nice to see you again.]

[Hopefully Frisk isn't lying when they say they don't mind her breath, because once Ammy gets a good ruffle, she begins to pat rather heavily, her apple-y breath washing over the youngster's face as her tail begins to slap happily against the side of their shoe. Her ears perk and she licks at their face when they come close to boop their nose with her own, then that same tongue comes over to swipe across her own leathery sniffer. Weird feeling, that...no one's ever really done it. Not quite anyway.

Issun was the only one who got to bounce up and down on her snout before, and that wasn't really what Frisk did. Children are silly things, heh. Nudging them with her head, she bids them to eat their ill-gotten gains, lest someone find them both huddled under here with the spoils. She could easily whisk them away, no problem, but it'd be best not to cause that much a scene. Especially not in a place such as this.]

Wrrr?

[What's a Snowpoff? Her head tilts to one side, ears flopping slightly. Is this another child she's met before, in another life? They do look very similar to another she's met. The smell is totally different, though, and the same as the aura. Siblings, perhaps? Maybe twins? Snowpoff is still an interesting name. She's been called Snoy and Snowball, but never Snowpoff.]

Edited (HIT ENTER TOO SOON ) 2018-04-05 00:08 (UTC)

[plz, they've shared a room with Sans, even Ammy's godly stench can't compare to a trashbag that's been in a giant cave for god knows how many years.]

[Obediently Frisk bites into the apple, wiping juice from their chin with their sleeve. Again, they don't see any recognition in her eyes at the nickname, but... they weren't expecting any. It doesn't stop the pang of regret that turns the apple sour on their tongue, but they swallow it down and refuse to let it get to them.]

[It's their consequence. They just have to keep reminding themself that.]

[Really, they're lucky that despite everything, Snowpoff is still herself, too. Even without the memory of them.]

[So, it's okay. Frisk takes another oversized bite of their apple, well accustomed to scarfing down their food to reduce the chances of being caught. They reach out their sticky fingers and scratch the top of her head, their words muffled around a mouthful of pulp.]

Are you hiding from them?

[Fair enough...

Recognition or no, memory of this child or no, the love still remains ever present in those dark eyes - that is not something so easily ERASED, even by two very determined children. She turns her head away as Frisk eats, eyes pointed on the tarp hiding them, in case anyone thinks to start approaching, or attempt to reveal them. It's a shame she can't hear very well - too many people, footsteps, and voices going at once. A market is a busy place, and she should be used to it, but it's tricky to pinpoint one sound among many.

Her attention, however, it further pulled from her task when five sticky, little fingers scratch through the shorter, coarser fur on her head, and Ammy leans forward and into those deft fingers, turning her head and flicking her ears as an indication - aware of ears, pls scritch ears. However, before they can even do as she wished, Ammy yawns and nods slowly.

Not so much hiding as she is just...avoiding them. Heaven knows these dull and rude people won't appreciate the little, ah...gift she left on their front steps. Ahem.]

[Muffet doesn't trust this place now that she's seen the rules that Laurent brought back, and she certainly doesn't like them, but she knows the value of playing by the rules- right now, at least, when she can't afford to break them.]

[The simple fact of being a spider lady, well, there's nothing to be done about that, but she's managed to work out some appropriately colorless clothing and isn't visibly breaking any rules.]

[She greets Frisk with a calm nod, stepping up beside them and murmuring quietly:]

And how are you finding your stay here, so far?

I don't like it.

[It's stiff, and rigidly monotone, in a way that perhaps suggests a hard U-turn into old habits. Not by their choice, at least. Frisk sets their glass down on a table.]

But I know how this works.

Nor do I.

[Muffet hates seeing them like this, flattening themself down to fit someone else's demands, but she allows no trace of her feelings to show in her bearing and expression.]

I worry for the ones who don't know how to work with this, among our number-

[Her voice drops further, entirely inaudible to anyone but Frisk now.]

-and for all the ones who do, among these people.

That's why I want to help.

[Their tone remains even, but something in it flares out a little, gains some teeth at the edges. They pull at the sleeves of their coat almost restlessly and turn to look up at Muffet. Their hair, usually haphazardly pulled up, has been somehow tamed into a perfectly spherical bun, and they keep having to reach up to tuck a wildly rebellious lock behind their ear.]

Can I help you?

You are.

[A simple answer, but it's the truth. Seeing someone she knows and cares for in this place is having a calming effect, in a way, centering her by reminding her where her focus should lie.]

As it is, I wanted to ask if you would... keep an eye out for me, I suppose, to see if I come back through this way. I'm intending to try their market, to see if I can abide by their rules long enough to do some trading, and I didn't want to simply vanish without warning if something went wrong. If you know I've come through here, and I don't return, then at least someone will know why.

[A heavy topic to discuss with a child, she thinks, but angels know they've seen and heard worse before- something that's still at least partially her fault, to her own regret. But they need to focus on practical matters, now.]

I can go for you.

[They say it quickly, almost the moment she's finished talking, and bounce back on their heels once. Then Frisk seems to catch themself. Their mouth thins, and they shake their head firmly.]

I know how to trade with them. I did it for this. [they tug at the hem of their coat.] It's not dangerous for me.

Less dangerous, at least.

[As careful as they are, she knows better than to say there's no risk for them at all.]

I do appreciate the offer, but all risks aside I still wish to see this place for myself.

[Thus far she hates basically everything about Ai'tuoh, but she can't help but want to look at it in person before she makes her judgements. Perseverance, perhaps- or perhaps for all her talent with purple magic, she's got a bit of gold to her as well, enough to want to give them as fair a chance as she can manage.]

Then I'll go with you.

[They say this quickly, too, though it's more of a controlled speed than the blurting they'd done earlier; they've been prepared to make this offer from the start.]

People won't look as hard if you're with someone else. And I can do the talking. [Their mouth twitches into a grimace, and they glance away.] ... if you need me to.

[Muffet has no desire to take them into danger, but equally little to turn them aside.]

I wouldn't say it's a need, but if you want to come along then I certainly don't object to your company- even if I'd rather it was a much more pleasant outing.

[She tilts her head thoughtfully, considering how they might make this work to their advantage.]

You might be able to see more if you followed at a distance, so that you could watch how people react to me and see if any danger is coming, without being so close that you'd be caught up in it if it was.

[It's not hard to see the writing on the wall with this place, so to speak. Their clothes have gotten plenty of glares, and the few times they dared try to approach anyone--the immediate scolding, the the distasteful stares...it's all familiar.]

[Way, way too familiar.]

[Hidden in an alleyway just off the market area, Chip is huddled in a tight ball as they try desperately to keep from freaking out. They're going to make a scene, going to make a mess, and that water, the water they saw being so clearly consecrated--]

[Not again. They have to be good, have to be have to be...]

[Their breath hitches again, tears streaming down their face.]

I have no fear, f-for God is with me. I-I have no fear, for...for God is...!

[They were buying a coat, anyway.]

[Otherwise they probably wouldn't have spent this much time here. They know places like this, an exact place like this, where you knew the rules by heart and all of them could be boiled down to the simple instruction: stay out of the way. The difference here, if Frisk sees one, is that there are just a lot more people to stay out of the way from.]

[So, they notice. They notice when there's one less. And when it's someone smaller, familiar, in a bowed shape they recognize deep in the muscle memory of their own shoulders.]

[They duck out into the alleyway too, pulling their brand-new, relentlessly dull coat tighter around themself. They try not to sneak up on the child they recognize and remember smiling down at from an ice sculpture; it's an effort, because quiet is their default. Frisk drops down to a crouch, resting their elbows on their knees and smiling crookedly.]

Hi. Does He mind if I'm here, too?

[Chip jumps and looks up sharply, eyes wide and frozen in fear until they actually recognize Frisk past the drab clothing. Even then they don't really relax, shaking their head vaguely before flinching and ducking their head.]

N-no, it's okay, you're--I-I'm okay. I'll be quiet.

[Frisk, for their part, remains as still as they'd been. It's all kind of familiar. They don't like it. They think they hate it, actually. But their smile stays, and they don't move.]

Hi, Okay. I'm Kittu.

[It's a little weak, since they'd already said 'hi', but Frisk is trying their best. They tuck a lock of hair behind their ear.]

We can be quiet. But I'd rather be somewhere else. How about you?

[Their first instinct is to snap back 'That's not my name!!', but it dies strangled in their throat before it has a chance to escape. Chip's cheeks flush red still for the embarrassment of the near-miss, and they glance from Frisk to the market past the alley and back again before nodding shakily.]

I don't...I wanna go back. But I can't...

[They can't go out into that alone. They'll be singled out, found and drug kicking and screaming to their punishment, and for all that it's familiar they can't stand the thought.]

We don't have to go back there. We can go somewhere else.

[Frisk extends their hand, palm-up, patiently.]

If you want.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

March Adventure: Swim with the Current and Float Away

frisk/kittu | ota

i.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

II.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

i

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject