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

[crosslaced]

Come on.

[He indicates the inn and starts walking; but if Damen lags he'll double back around to keep pace. Laurent doesn't exactly know what's up, beyond the general notion that Damen has never (only once) had to listen to rules and thus suffers in a dystopia, but he doesn't want anything between them to make it worse.]

There's beds for once, and clean water.

’[also he's excited about civilisation, a little.]

[dedamastai]

[Damen does lag several steps beyond Laurent for the first few feet, before seeming to catch up with himself again and coming up beside Laurent.]

You know, if you want a bed more permanently we could ask - [the Storyteller] someone to build us one. I'm sure at least one person knows how.

[crosslaced]

But it'll get dirty and dusty, and we'd have to wash it. I already have my hands full with the horses.

[dedamastai]

Ah, I forgot. You've never seen a kline, have you?

[It's entirely possible Laurent has seen one when it was being used for seating rather than sleeping. A kline is - basically picture a daybed or a chaise lounge except made out of wood/iron. They were usually only furnished with furs and hides so. That's kind of what "bed" means to Damen, in a general sense. He's royalty, so usually he has the luxury of a separate bed but most people just also sleep on their couch in Akielos. Why bother having two pieces of furniture if one will do the job?]

[crosslaced]

I’m not Akielon, so I don’t know what you’re talking about, no.

[He probably has an idea of it, but I'm not going to start sofabed discourse I’m a coward. He sounds just snippy, like Chuck when she gives Damen attitude on some whim. Playful, even. They enter the inn and Laurent leads the way to the stairs; it’s already quieter here, like the place doesn’t get much traffic.]

[dedamastai]

You know how chairs in Akielos are often rather longer than in Vere? That's a kline. You add a pad made of leather and cover it in furs for sleeping. They're quite comfortable.

[It can't be any worse than what they're currently sleeping on, is all he's saying.]

As long as you keep the leather dry, there's not a lot of upkeep either.

[crosslaced]

Hm, [.......that's fair……]

You make a compelling argument. [He pauses at the door, fitting the key into the lock- but before he unlocks the door proper the blonde leans over and stares up at Damen.] After we’re done staying out of trouble here, shall we get a kline?

[feat. Laurent's imperfect Akielon pronunciation.]

[dedamastai]

But what if I don't stay out of trouble?

[That's a very deliberate I and not we. He's not stupid. If one of them is going to end up in trouble, it's absolutely him. Vere is a land where rules matter. How you behave matters. In Akielos, honor matters more than the minutiae of how you behave and he sees no honor in jailing people for every little trespass.]

Do you think they would approve of what we might do in this room?

[There are places, he knows, that are less forgiving of relationships between men. Even in Akielos there's a certain hierarchy to it. Damen could sleep with any woman he chose, but it would be rather less acceptable to sleep with Nikandros, who was effectively of too high a status and too close in age for a relationship to be appropriate. In that sense, it was fortunate for him to like the same things regardless of gender. It would be much more of a problem if he preferred his men built like Nikandros.]

[crosslaced]

Then I'll be mad and we won't get that kline.

[That’s not a real answer. Laurent definitely has a plan for if or when Damen gets caught. Click goes the door, and he steps inside impassively.]

It only matters what they think if we get caught, no?

[dedamastai]

Yes, of course. How could I forget? It's the game you like.

[He is never going to let that go. It was stupid, he hated it, and honestly if anyone asked? Damen would absolutely tell them Laurent was the needlessly reckless one. Who does things??? Like drop people off at the border??? Without explaining anything???? At least if he had known the plan ahead of time, it wouldn't have shaved five years off his life.

He steps into the room behind Laurent and shuts the door behind him.]

I would say I should get myself caught so you can make a game of it, but neither of us know enough about this place for that.

[crosslaced]

Lock it.

[First of all why is Damen even complaining he wanted to cross the border? Laurent gave him his army back even? Nikandros was even there to recognise him???

Anyway, he's initiating contact now. Nothing too aggressive, just absent ‘i missed you’ shoulder-touches and maybe leaning into Damen a little. I have no idea how relationships work.]

Even if you got caught, half of the outsiders would go with you. A rescue attempt would be guaranteed. The rest of us could probably brute-force it quickly enough.

Don't you worry, I can find my own games.

[dedamastai]

[One day, Damen might actually be able to understand Laurent's plans from the beginning rather than retroactively having to figure them out in three minutes from one and a half clues. One day.

Damen locks the door by feel, rather than actually looking at it because he's always preoccupied by Laurent when they're alone.]

You always do. How has Ignis been?

[Is he still irrationally jealous? Maaaaaaaybe.]

[crosslaced]

What?

[There might have been some kind of smooching in the itinerary but at this unexpected question he leans away to look at Damen. Incredulously. He might sound a little salty, he's got a bit of that where Ignis is concerned.]

I wouldn't know, probably how he usually is. being admired by everyone. Being a Damianos to his own nest of vipers.

[For the canonblind, given that the name means something along the lines of “he who tames” Laurent's more right than he realises.]

[dedamastai]

Damastís, Laurent. [He makes the correction before the actual meaning of the sentence catches up to him.] Wait, what do you mean? I thought he -

[Hm. How do you word "I thought you liked him" without sounding like an irrationally concerned nag? A question for the ages.]

Are you not friends?

[crosslaced]

[Whether the mildly annoyed noise he makes is at the correction or being asked about Ignis is anyone's guess. He tuts it into the curve of Damen's shoulder just because he does what he wants.]

To a certain definition of friends, yes. He's friends with everyone.

[The word means nothing in a crisis.]

If you want Ignis gossip you might as well get comfortable, [let him sit on some beds he hasn't in months] I’m Veretian.

[dedamastai]

You know we have a saying specifically about Veretians in Akielos.

[He sits on a chair, which he pulls over to the bed, because if Laurent says this is going to take a long time? He will fall asleep if he sits on the bed.]

"A Veretian's many words can't buy eggs."

[crosslaced]

I bought you passage to the Kingsmeet.

[check & mate. Laurent sprawls onto the welcoming linen of the bed… except there’s a sad ‘thud’, not a ‘fwump’. He has to take a moment, frowning. This bed sucks he’s been scammed.]

Do you want to know anything specific? Or I can tell you about his love life- it’s like ours, it's incredible. Last I checked they’re just coming off Charcy.

[dedamastai]

It means that words don't buy food, not that they can't buy anything. [The actual Greek phrase is "Many words are poverty." If we were wondering.] Does that mean he understands what I told him? I don't trust you not to whip me if I hand you a whip. I trust that you know what you're doing.

[That trust is misplaced, perhaps, but he still has it. He would hand Laurent a sword, trusting that if Laurent ran him through it would be for a purpose. There would be a plan, even if he didn't understand it in that moment.]

[crosslaced]

Arguing semantics now? I’m so proud of you.

[And Laurent will make sure that trust is placed just fine.]

No, but I'm sure he'll come around. I… I've been distracted by you, but every Storytelling before that they've been making such faces at each other.

[dedamastai]

I learned from the best. [Laurent ruined a perfectly good Akielon is what he did. Look at him, he knows how to lie.] It's good to know I still distract you, though. I thought the effect might wear off eventually, if we lived together.

[Were we talking about Ignis? Ignis who? No, compliment him some more.]

[crosslaced]

[It’s an improvement!]

I thought you'd fantasise something more romantic. Something like. We take turns picking furniture and you leave me Akielon poetry every week.

[Not that Damen needs to fantasise when he could just live the dream here. Laurent is looking at Damen sideways, relaxed on the (Disappointing) bed like a cat dozing. You know what, he's not going to stoke your ego but he will reach out expectantly.]

Give me your hand?

[If obliged he's gonna put that hand on his head. Pet him.]

[dedamastai]

[Damen obligingly gives Laurent his hand and pets him when directed to do so.]

You know the wrong kind of Akielon for me to write you poetry in it.

[It was a little bit like the unspoken meanings and doublespeak in Vere, but poetry in Akielos was almost an entirely different language than conversation. Words meant slightly different things, certain phrases carried meaning that was understood by someone who had grown up learning it but lost to people who didn't.]

And anyway, you don't write poems down. You perform them. Nobody writes poems down - how would you know what they meant?

[crosslaced]

I meant-

[He's not used to criticism meaning nothing. Laurent instinctively pushes himself up on an elbow, relaxing feeling a bit too relaxed in the moment, and immediately realises he just ruined his plans for affection. heck. heck!!!

Well, now he's committed to this pose so hopefully there's an opening to change it before his arm cramps.]

…

[dedamastai]

[Damen laughs, a quiet huff of amusement in deference to the law of the place they were in.]

Do you want me to tell you a poem? I haven't written one for you specifically, but I know the classics.

[crosslaced]

[Give him a moment to Deal with himself.]

… I'd like that.