March Adventure: Swim with the Current and Float Away

[lifeaftr_mods]

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.

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

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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!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[catpiper]

[This is her time to shine. Because she knows how to be a good test subject and while the circumstances aren't the same, the feeling of being trapped is. Guzma's always brave-he doesn't know when it's time to not sing anymore and this is definitely the time to remain as quiet as possible and not call attention to yourself. She doesn't have any beds to hide him under so he can peacefully sing to himself. There's only those held captive, a cold room, and seemingly voiceless guards wandering nearby. How's she supposed to hide him this way? There's no escape from this terrifying place-no way to even pretend there's safety in these walls by hiding under old blankets or in dark corners. They're trapped.

But it seems like he's trying to hide her-the way he brings her into his side and rests his head atop her own, like he's giving her the opportunity to conceal herself. It's a chance she easily takes, turning her back to the door like they can't see them now and whispers-]

If we stay quiet, it's better. That's how we can hide. I don't want them to see you.

[If they're anything like the scientists and doctors, they're going to look for something strong and good and in her eyes, those are qualities he possess in spades.

Still, song denial isn't what she wants to be known for. He should be able to sing his little heart out if it makes him feel better.]

You can sing very loud in your head-I'll listen. I'll try to hear you and say 'good job'.

[yallstupid]

[It's painful, somewhat, to hear those words. Ren is trying so very hard to keep him safe, to make him feel better, even now. She's always been good at that - he told her so himself - but now he has to tell her something else. Something as important as holding one's hand to make them feel strong.

The arm surrounding her curls, tugging the small girl ever closer, and his palm flattens on her back. He rubs a slow and tired circle on the fabric of her clothes, closing his eyes as he remembers a time from long ago...a time when that house was actually a home, and a kind someone would hug him tight and rub his back when he was scared. When he didn't have a voice to sing, or to cry, or to shout. It's a memory he hates - because he can't let go of it. No matter how much time passes. No matter how much he tries.

He can't let go of it.]

Ren, I'm gonna tell you something important, a'ight? So you make sure you listen t'me, yeah? [He lifts his hand from her back to card his finger through her hair.] ...There's gonna be times when you gotta hard a real tough choice. When something scary's happening, but not to you.

When something real scary's happening to the people you really--...r-really like. And to other people, too. People that done nothing wrong. Y'all can choose to hide, to wait for it to stop...or you can choose to fight back. To make that thing stop.

Now, I don't expect y'all to fight no one... Hope you never got to; but I ain't the one to lay low and hide. Never been something I'm good at. [He chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood.] Prob'ly did more fighting than I should'a done, actually...heh. But my point stands.

I can't stay quiet, and I won't hide, not when it means turning my back on the people still locked up. [He holds her a little tighter.] Cuz me singing tells 'em, and the punks what locked us up...

I ain't scared.

And I ain't going down. [Not without a fight.]

[catpiper]

[Her eyes have felt heavy since the moment they stripped her of her treasures and medicine. There's been a constant pressure pressing down on her. Physically. Mentally. She's kept her eyes open the whole time. Waiting, hoping, that the brave people who aren't trapped can help. That they can use their words to get them out here. That maybe the Storyteller can whisk them away, because she wants to pretend they can still feel all their hearts, no matter how many walls they're put behind.

She's tried to avoid resting, knowing that soon enough it wouldn't be a choice for her anymore, but it's hard to not lean into him and shut her eyes when he rubs her back. It's not safe, but it's better. More comfortable than she's been the entire time here.

And his words reach her-to make that thing stop and the memory of a child giving a choice when the world became scary again. Which is better: a pain you were prepared to face or-

Because she gets it. This is how brave people work-how they internalize and fight back against a terrifying world and she will never understand. Because she's not like that. His heart is bright and kind and brave in the face of adversity, while she can already feel hers beat too fast from her own genetic weakness. From anxiety.

And she still listens. Wants to interrupt and tell him it doesn't work like that. When you're trapped, you have to sit quietly and wait for someone's kind heart to reach you. Wait to be let out. To be sent away. She knows this game, on some level, and she knows Guzma-knows he won't listen to her because his voice is louder. His heart is stronger.

She doesn't agree. Doesn't argue. Her eyes stay shut and her forehead rests against his shoulder. She touches his arm, drops it back, reaches for his shirt and lets go like she can't decide where to keep her hands.]

I don't know how to make my heart that way so-

[There's nothing else she can do. She has to hide him. He can continue to sing and revel in his bravery, but she's going to use her own surefire method of keeping him safe.]

You can stay behind me. If you lay down in that corner, you can sing. I'll sit in front of you. You can hide there and they won't see you anymore.

[yallstupid]

[Were he any wiser, Guzma would have torn himself apart trying to get back Ren's medicine, but he only thinks it's the fatigue and exhaustion of stress and fear, as well as the narcotic drug still in her system, bidding the poor girl back to sleep. Were he any wiser, he would have told her to will herself awake, and not succumb to sleep. But Guzma has no idea of Ren's illness, and continues to try and relax her a little.

But when she stays awake? When she answers back - I don't know how - he gets...frustrated. Not fighting back was never a luxury he could afford. Had he not fought back that one time, when it made all the difference in the world, and going forward from there...what would he be? Who would he be? Better? Worse?

Dead?

It makes him angry. Guzma has known nothing but fighting for his right to exist, to remain relevant. He's fought not because he's brave, or because he's kind. or even because he wants to protect those close to him. That's not the full story..he has no idea how not to fight. He's long since forgotten, and it'll be decades still to change that about him. It's why he snorts, the first time he's ever shown his more rough side to Ren.]

I said I'm not gonna hide. You can if you want, but I'm not gonna. I'm gonna stick it to these dirty punks until I'm sucking bubbles, and ain't no one gonna stop me. [That includes you.]

[catpiper]

[The harsh response is expected, but she had hoped he would say something different. That he would compromise-take her up on her offer and continue to sing where they couldn't see him. She hates this. Every second of it. It's scary and she can't begin to fathom how he finds strength in dealing with it by facing the world head on instead of shrinking and cowering away.

But that's what makes him like the other people here. Strong. Brave. They carry every quality she lacks and that's fine. Because he can keep being like this and for as long as she's able, she'll continue keeping an eye on him. They've ignored him so far-she hopes the trend continues and if it doesn't, well. She'll figure it out then. Pull his arm even if he lashes out or try to draw imaginary pictures on the ground to get his attention.

She has to stay awake. She has to stay here to watch over him. And maybe his song can reach their hearts and will their captors to let them go. No matter how desperate she is to get him to be quiet, he's not going to stop so-]

I want to stay with you.

[And really, the only place to hide is in his arms. She's not willing to give that warm spot up, unless he plans on taking an opportunity to leave on his own.]

I won't stop you anymore.

[yallstupid]

[The response both startles and confuses him - to the point when Guzma actually glances down at Ren for a moment, puzzlement painted clearly on his face. He's not used to anyone taking his irritation, his anger, at face value and wanting to stay near him. He's violent, he's physically aggressive, he's destructive - Guzma knows this. He knows how he is when he gets mad, and no one...no one has ever stuck close to him.

He wonders if she'd say that if he ever really got mad. If he threw things, broke them, and yelled so hard and so loud that he looked as much as a monster as the creatures he calls pokemon. He wonders if she'd want to stay then, when she saw the real him. The Big Bad Boss of Team Skull. It's not like he's changed any.

Guzma is quiet, turning his face away from Ren as she presses against his side again, feeling the shame and guilt burn at his chest and rip at his insides. It's not a feeling he's experienced much before - regret - so he curls his fingers into the fabric on his pants and chews his lower lip in discomfort. He doesn't like it. It's like biting into something sour. He doesn't like this feeling.]

Okay...whatever. [He doesn't mean to sound so dismissive, but Guzma never was good at this sort of thing.]

[catpiper]

[Good or not, she hears okay and that's what she focuses on. She can hear the shift in his tone, in the way he's no longer trying to hold her and clutch himself instead-something changed. But he said okay and is letting her stay. She tries to listen, to feel any kind of budding resentment or anger, knowing full well it's a skill she lacks in this place. It's an old habit she finds herself falling back on when confusion takes place over reason and she doesn't know what to do.

But there's nothing.

Only his tense body, her own stilled form trying to avoid any movement that might push her away, hoping that okay means that's okay and she can hide here, rest here, somehow use whatever means at her disposal to keep him safe, because he's too brave. She doesn't get him and he doesn't get her, but none of that matters when someone that could hurt them lies beyond the bars.

She doesn't move to clutch onto his shirt, like she wants to. Keeps her hand still where they are and forces her eyes open, hoping tomorrow will be one of her good days, so she can keep a better eye on him.

And for a brief second, there's a small noise that emerges from the back of her throat, almost like a hum. It's quiet and short lived. Might not have even registered from how quickly that melody dissipated into thin air. It was an attempt to make him happy, maybe, beaten down by her own fears and she's silent.

Then there's another sound-similar, softer, a distinct tune that lasts a half second more, before her voice shakes and she-

Might as well leave that to the brave people.]