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

[It isn't the first time Wade's woken up in a cell with a pounding headache and a mouth that feels like it's been stuffed full of cotton, but it's definitely a nicer cell than most. He isn't entirely sure what they've doped him up with before presumably dragging him in here, but it's some powerful stuff, powerful enough to circumvent his healing factor.]

Hoo... might wanna get me some of that stuff just for shits 'n giggles later on...

[His voice comes out slurred and slightly incoherent, and he sways a little as he rises to a sitting position. There's a woman sitting across from him, looking at him in a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, like someone who's just come upon a large and potentially dangerous wild animal.]

Hey there, little missy. Mind tellin' me exactly what I'm in for here?

[It would help if they were not so talkative - every single one of them. The people of Ai'tuoh know their place; they know what being condemned means, and know that they will be purified because of it. They have no reason to rail against their captors, who only perform these duties out of necessity.]

[These strange interlopers know nothing of restraint. They speak freely, as if, in detecting the pathway of their fate, they have sought to fill the space between then and now with words and protests, freeform, in ruthless compensation.]

You should not be speaking to me. [She keeps her gaze averted, staring pointedly at the floor. The words themselves are little more than a murmur.] But you ought to address me by my designation. With respect.

[Unfortunately for the guard, filling the silence with useless words and rhetoric has always been a staple of Wade's. He's not called the Merc with a Mouth for nothing, after all. He grins disarmingly at her, drawing closer to lean his arms against the bars of his cell as he regards his small but fierce captor.]

Meanin' no disrespect there, ma'am. But I can't exactly-- what did you call it?-- "address you by your designation" if I don't know what that is, y'know?

41916.

[Stiffly. Suspiciously. There has to be some sort of play here, doesn't there? No one in a cage should be so at ease. The fact that he is, that suggests that he might be capable of reversing this situation, should it come to that.]

[...impossible, though. No one escapes. No one ever does, and no one ever will.]

That is my designation.

[Wow. Gettin' some serious Schindler's List vibes all of a sudden. That's not great at all. On the surface, Wade remains undeterred, his smile never wavering; his posture remaining loose and nonchalant as if waking up in a strange cell is something he does every weekend.]

Huh. I'll try my best to remember that, but honestly I'm not really good with names. Mind if I call you Four for short? S'less of a mouthful. No offense.

You may not.

[It's snapped out, cold and uncompromising, and her averted gaze stops being averted at all, when she looks to him coldly. He must be...playing at something. Thinking he can toy with her. Lower her guard.]

That is the designation given to me, and you will respect it.

[Okay, so this gal's not much for small talk. Wade raises his hands in placation, taking a step back from the bars.]

Whoa whoa whoa. Easy there. I didn't mean any disrespect, ma'am. 41916 it is, no biggie. I'm nothin' if not accommodating.

[Geez, her glower could give Wolverine a run for his money.]

You can call me Wade, by the way. Nice to meet'cha.

Edited 2018-03-20 14:13 (UTC)

...Wade.

[Something about the name seems to give her pause. Her jaw stiffens, her posture shifts, and she shoots a furtive look down the halls and then...back to him.]

[She speaks in low, wary undertone.]

Is that truly your name?

[...An interesting question, to be sure. And Wade definitely noticed her looking around, as if worried that their conversation would be overheard. He shrugs.]

I mean... yeah? I mean, to my employers I'm known as Deadpool, but I was never too big on the secret identity thing anyway. You can call me whatever you want.

...My friends call me Wade, though.

[Supplemented with his most charming smile.]

[Wade. Deadpool.]

[Is this a coincidence?]

[Regardless, it certainly draws her attention - and her suspicion. He could be lying. Anyone who has seen their Law would know how deeply water is revered.]

Who named you as such? Why?

[A strange question to ask, and one that causes the smile to fade slightly from his face, his brow furrowing in confusion.]

...uhhh my parents did, I guess? I dunno where they got the name, though-- must've been a Wade somewhere in my family tree or somethin'.

Came up with the name "Deadpool" myself. That one's got a... bit of a story to it. Kinda tee el dee are, y'know? Not sure if you'd wanna hear it.

[Wade stop phonetically saying internet acronyms.]

[She has no idea what that means, Wade.]

I - [A swallow. She shouldn't want to hear it. She shouldn't want to know why he named himself the way he did. But...]

[No one else is around to tell her no, now, is there?]

Why did you?

[Wade isn't smiling now. He stares at her, his head cocked quizzically like some big spandex-covered dog, as if she's a puzzle he's just discovered and is trying to figure out.]

You really wanna know why I named myself Deadpool? Why?

You must have favored water, to do so.

[She says so with obvious confidence; it hasn't occurred to her that any other option might be possible, apparently.]

[Wade lets out a nervous, awkward laugh at that.]

Heh. Well, y'know what they say-- you gotta stay hydrated. Eight glasses a day, an' all that.

[A pause.]

That's... not why I picked the name, actually. I mean, I can see where the confusion comes from, but... that's not what "dead pool" means.

[A fraction of her confidence wavers, replaced with that familiar wariness. But still, she cannot seem to fully quell her curiosity. She has not taken her lessons as well to heart. She out to walk away, now, instead of engaging this stranger, doomed as he is.]

[But the question coaxes itself out regardless.]

Then what does it mean?

[And at that, Wade sighs. Where even to begin? He leans against the bars of his cell once again, his gaze suddenly clouded and faraway with the recalling of memories.]

It was a game we played. Me an' the other patients. You pooled your money into whoever you thought was gonna wind up dead first, see? Life was pretty cheap in the Workshop, y'know. Had to get our jollies somehow.

In any case, I was a prime candidate. Had terminal cancer to start with, plus I had a history of sassin' the orderlies every chance I got. They didn't take kindly to sassin'.

Long story short, I survived long enough to escape. A bunch of guys didn't. So I took the name "Deadpool" for them, I guess? Or maybe it was to remind myself that I got outta there alive. Kinda wasn't in my right mind at the time.

[A harsh, sardonic laugh, because honestly-- when is he ever in his right mind?]

[She has no basis for what "cancer" might be, but she understands "terminal" - understands that it was a death knell. It is not like being sent to the Water, that passage into the cleansing. When it is slow and unpreventable, you have time to allow the true horror of it to settle across you.]

And you survived...to this point. [It would be foolish to grow attached now, to feel some manner of regret or reluctance over a man that has clearly led a difficult life up until this point. Their law is Unerring. Its judgment is final.]

[Still.]

[He would be forgiven for thinking that something of her almost seems mournful.]

[Wade thinks about how he survived. He thinks about all the times he's managed to squeak past by the skin of his teeth even before the healing factor, and all the times he'd walked away from what would've killed a normal man afterwards. He thinks about all the people he's lost, to death and disappearance and just generally being done with him, while he alone was left standing.

He thinks about the recurring nightmares he has, and the one that scares him the most-- being alive thousands and thousands of years later, with the rest of humanity long dead, with nothing left except the distant hope that the eventual heat death of the universe would finally allow him to rest.

She speaks of his survival as if he's lucky. Wade doesn't feel lucky. He huffs out another tired laugh.]

Yeah, well... I'm like an old bad penny. I always come back. Whatever plans your higher-ups have got for me probably ain't even enough to keep me down for long.

[It would have sounded like a boast from any other person. Coming from him, it doesn't.]

You have not seen what the Water can do. What it will do.

[That much, at least, is not fabricated; her faith in that statement is absolute and sincere.]

Many have been condemned. It has cleansed them all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

March Adventure: Swim with the Current and Float Away

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ishotyouuu

lORD

no subject

no subject