maskormenacelogs | Why are you looking for a harmony

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Why are you looking for a harmony

WHO: ~~Utena Tenjou~~ Aion and YOU
WHERE: The Porter Cities
WHEN: August 3rd through the 9th
WHAT: A new god is on the scene, and she's here to make the world a better place. with her song and with her newfound abilities. Come to one of her concerts and get a taste of eternity... or meet her in the streets to see a new hero in action.
WARNINGS: None yet

01. CONCERT

Symbols can be found if people know where to look. There's graffiti of a snake eating its own tail and a clock with no hands. Snakes and arrows drawn on the street with chalk. Posters of zodiac symbols and constellations, with the word ETERNITY printed underneath. Those who follow these hints will come across an underground club with a strange girl standing on stage, singing her heart out.

And the crowd is loving it.

Those who aren't receptive to her message will hear someone singing with more passion than skill, spouting gibberish and barely staying on key. Others might hear a more pleasant song, her words clearer but still incomprehensible, and will lose track of time as the concert continues. Then there are the true believers. The people who are wish they had more time. The people who want, more than anything else, to hold onto the people into lives and never let go. Both people who fear the end and want to prolong its delay, and those who fear that the end to their suffering may never come. All of them will be in rapture. As long as Aion sings, the night feels like it will never end.

02. AFTERPARTY

Aion is slumped over in a chair, chugging a bottle of water and basking in the afterglow. She's exhausted and exhilarated, and she feels more alive than she's felt in months. There's a few hangers on gushing after the show, but when someone else walks by, she'll flash them a grin and invite them to an empty seat.

"So," she asks, "How'd you like it?"

03. CHAOS AND DESTRUCTION

It must be a day ending in y, because Maurtia Falls is once again in danger. Aion walks out of her show to see a man screaming outside of the club, getting belligerent with patrons trying to leave. Words start to turn into violence, and he shoves one of the girls from the show back with enough force that she nearly tumbles to the ground. Aion and another concert goer catch her, and she glares up at him, gritting her teeth.

"You need to back off," she snarls, before she rises to her feet, "Or else!"

Maybe she could handle it, but with how Maurtia Falls has been, it can easily turn into something else.

04. WILDCARD

OOC: Do you want to get involved with Aion, but aren't feeling any of the prompts? Or do you like a prompt but need it tweaked a little to fit your character? Feel free to drop something else here! You can also shoot me a PM or a private plurk and we can get something worked out.

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Laura is booking it through the Underground, when she hears the echoes of something on the surface- a familiar voice, the buzz of Performance at the back of her skull. She can make out the earnest four-cord progressions that promises freedom from grief- just believe and you will be stronger than death. It's a shot of courage, but still there the clench of nerves in her gut- a familiar feeling of wanting to believe in something so badly that you'd rather die than doubt.

(She takes a deep breath in. A deep breath out. There's the distant memory of a girl lying in a coffin to be with her family again and Laura knows better than anyone that the promise of anything eternal in this life was a hollow one. What's left, when the truth you would rather die than doubt was a lie all along?)

She wants to stop this. She wants to stop Utena. Utena herself was always caring and pragmatic. She was idealistic, sure, but she wasn't a liar, and that's what Woden's made of her now.

But Woden's going to make a murderer out of Cassandra, and for now that had to take priority. But as she turns away and back on her path to Maurtia Falls, Laura wonders just how many times is this kid going to get hurt just from being in her orbit? And what was she going to do about it?

Edited 2018-08-11 18:22 (UTC)

When Woden died, so did Aion and her promise of eternity. Now all that's left is a mortal girl, freed from her curse, but not from doubt and regret. She can't hide away in her sham forever, though. She has to see her fake pantheon's misadventures through to the very end. So Utena arrives once more at Hades, or at least, what's left of it, and forces herself to look at its remains in a way that she couldn't do with the rest of the damaged city.

Edited 2018-08-13 18:48 (UTC)

Hades is a fucking mess. The first blow had been struck by Luci, but the real damage had been Apep's floodwater. It washed away every piece of the bar. Her throne is now a sad frame of vines with just a few scraps of petals still clinging to it. The glassy blossoms that lit the space are all but destroyed as well, dropping the cave into a dim haze.

In the time between the event and when she felt the floodwater finally drain, several graffitiers had been through. Most simply left their tags, but huge letters scrawl across her stage reading "IMPORTS FUCK OFF."

Persephone had thought that maybe she'd be dignified in the aftermath. That she'd stand tall among the ruins, dispensing wisdom to help Woden's victims chew through the headfuck he left behind.

Instead she's on the ground, curled up next to the mildewing remains of an ugly floral love seat. Someone's coming, someone she doesn't want seeing her like this. She needs to get up. She needs to get her shit together, or leave, or tell Utena to fuck off, or do something.

Just do something.

She can't keep laying here.

She has to move.

She has to get up.

Do something, god damn it.

She looks around, remembering the party she forced herself to go to once, until she sees Persephone on the floor. Utena stiffens and stares at her, before forcing herself to speak.

"Are you..."

Are you okay, she's about to ask, until she realizes what a stupid question it is. Of course she's not okay. So, Utena sighs and walks over to Persephone, crouching low and offering her a hand.

She cracks an eye to look at Utena, but then rolls onto her back putting an arm over her face.

"Nope."

Is she saying, "Nope, I'm not okay" or is she saying, "Nope, I'm not getting off the floor"? Utena considers it for a moment, decides that she doesn't really care, and steps forward to grab Perspephone's arm.

"Come on," she says, pulling her up as much as she can. "You can't just - oof! - lie here forever."

Woden delighted in watching his pantheon -- his creations -- spread gospel to the world. They were so ready and willing to sing, and who didn't like singing, using their powers? Woden knew it was addicting, he'd seen it so many times, how easy and ready one could be to sing and make the music that their soul reached out with.

He was here, because he'd wanted to see just how she took it. What her words would sound like, and while he couldn't feel it -- there were no songs that Woden had found that affected him -- he could observe it, document it. He'd even recorded notes, although only when the speakers on his helmet were off.

"I thought it was extraordinary," he mentioned, his tone appropriately approving. After all, he was the patron of this new pantheon. He knew what his word meant. "How did it feel -- their adulation?"

Aion beamed when she heard the praise, and while he couldn't see the way her eyes lit up, her shades couldn't cover up her smile. However, when he mentioned adulation and worship, she just shook her head and reached for her bottle of water.

"It's more than just that," she said. "It's more like... it's like I felt like I really connected to them, you know? That I was really bringing something good into their lives."

That's not to say that the praise didn't feel good, but there was something deeper here. At least, that's what Aion would say.

Woden was so fucking good at mimicking the powers of the gods, but he could never touch it, never experience that pure bliss, the feeling of being one with something so vast, and so great. He'd never been affected by a song, and there was only one god who he hadn't heard -- the one with no true ability to sing, thanks to Woden.

"Yes, of course," he said, a pause, he stared at her. Did she know? Sometimes, he thought his paranoia was too high, but there was no way for her to know the truth. No way for her to actually come up with a reason that he wouldn't.

It was conversational, and nothing more. He relaxed, and leaned against the wall. "And did you get a sense for it? What you were bringing? Were you able to pick all of the pieces out?"

She hummed to herself and tapped her finger against her bottle, recreating the rhythm that accompanied her song. Aion tilted her head and said, "I guess it's like... have you ever just lost track of time? Like, really lost track of time. Like when you're having a good time, or you're talking all night to someone you really like."

Aion leaned back, and continued, "It's sort of like that, except time never runs out. That one moment can last forever-"

She stopped herself, suddenly sheepish.

"Or at least, until the song ends."

"Mm," he said, as if he knew precisely what that was like. What it was like to sit, and talk to someone without time pressing on. No, no Woden hadn't felt that in some time. He wishes he could, he wishes his conversations felt like that, but he hardly cared what the other said, half the time. Even in this, it was automatic, to respond, but he...never really cared.

"An eternity, and yet limited time, all in one," he tried to quantify it. "A moment that lingers, and then it's too short, when it's over."

"Yeah..."

She trails off, looking down at the table, her enthusiasm dimmed. Aion bites the bottom of her lip, hesitating for a moment before continuing.

"There's some moments that I wish could last longer," she says, "But others... stretching them out just seems cruel."

And she's seen them. Those painful, banal moments between normalcy and tragedy, where people are caught in limbo, waiting for news that their entire world is about to end. Aion has become as intimate with those memories as much as the good ones.

They weren't enough to stop the song.

"Yes, I...can imagine there are moments like that," says Woden, a man who has had many moments in that sense. Many more of the first, and yet...

"Do you like it? The power to let that ebb and flow in and around you?" he asked, as if he already knew what it felt like. Woden had only observed the power, had only been able to watch. But that was fine, he liked watching.

It ebbs and flows around her, threatening to overwhelm her and carry her off to oblivion. But she's still here, isn't she? It doesn't just flow around her. It flows through her. It is her.

Aion breathes out, her eyelids fluttering, and says, "There's nothing like it. It's like being caught in a fire - it's scary. Terrifying, even. Except you're not trapped in the fire, not really. It's more like... it's like you are the fire."

He wants to know what it's like.

A part of him still wants that, desperately, even if he knows it will never happen. It's a reality that he cannot shirk, but it's one that a part of him still wishes for. He'd cut his own son's head off for a taste of it, just a crumb, but he would have done more, if he could have even more. He wonders if Ananke could have given it to him, of course, but he knows that it doesn't matter. He was a keen subject for manipulation.

It's a shame she missed the fact that he could have a spine, in his inaction.

"Do you think... do you think people recognize that? Do you think they think of you as a fire, something that burns, and can burn them, but still... they can't help but move ever-closer?"

She shakes her head, and says, "I don't think they do, no. Or if they do, they don't really care. I think it's more like... how do I put this... it's more like there's two kinds of people. There's the people who can stay outside of the fire. They like how warm it is, they like the light it gives, but they aren't a part of it. Not really. But others..."

Aion looks back at the crowd, and continues, "Others are like... well, they're like me. They aren't the firewood. They're the fire, and fire can't get burned."

Darin really hadn't been to Maurtia Falls. Considering it was the epicenter of so many imPort related disasters, Darin felt that maybe his blue hair would make him stand out in the worst way possible.

But rumors and murmurs and rumblings of a 'new god' had caught his attention, and he couldn't help but investigate. Yato had given him hope that not all gods were terrible...that some were actually good and kind.

But in a powder keg like Maurtia Falls? A holier than thou attitude would lead to problems, and those problems could undermine all of the work he was starting to help improve imPort and civilian relations.

The concert was weird, but otherwise uneventful. And as he leaves, he catches the disturbance. With a swear under his breath, Darin forces his way into the center and holds his arms out to either side.

"Okay, everyone here needs to calm down. There's no need for this."

Darin's attempts at making peace are noble, well-intended, and are completely ineffectual. All he earns for his trouble is a punch to the face from the same man who started this ruckus. The good news: he has more anger than skill, and his poor attempt at haymaker misses Darin completely. The bad news: it hits another civilian, sending him reeling back into the crowd.

His friends aren't too happy about that, and without another word they jump the attacker, ready to deliver their own brand of justice. Congratulations, Darin and Aion, you have the start of a very small riot on your hands.

"Oh for the love of--"

Darin sighs heavily and rolls his eyes, leaping into the quickly-forming fray. He takes several hard shots to the head and torso, but despite the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and from a glancing wound on his temple, he's taking them like a champ.

Finally, he plants his feet and throws his arms out wide, sending both groups sprawling backwards over and on top of one another with two mighty shoves.

"I said knock it off! There's no reason to fight! But if any of you just can't seem to scratch that stupid itch, then feel free to spend those punches on me! I promise I won't even fight back!"

But the grin on his face, wild and somewhat dangerous looking, implies that no amount of normal punches would be enough to lay him low. In fact, the small cut on his temple is already starting to close up.

That show of force is enough to make most of the people hit by it scurry off. Key word being most. The man who started this fight scrambles to his feet, as bloody and wild as Darin, and he's just itching to call his bluff.

That's when Aion begins to sing.

It's the same song she played her concert. If it didn't touch Darin back then, there's little chance that it will affect him now. However, this crowd came for her and whatever message they could find in her music. Most of them stop in their tracks, grasping for any vision of eternity they can find.

Baal doesn't like this at all.

Not Aoin's show in particular-- that, to be honest, he didn't see or listen to, but mostly because he didn't want to. This whole Woden situation has gone totally off the rails in a number of ways, and Baal barely even knows how to start dealing with it. At least when they're charging at him on the attack, he knows exactly what to do. With this?

"Not too bad," he says anyway, with a smile as if he's teasing with an understatement. Really, though, he's testing how she reacts to him; he doesn't think she's noticed who he is yet, assuming she even still knows. "What do they call you again?"

She perks up when she hears Baal, but once she actually sees him, her smile vanishes.

"Aion," she says, keeping her voice cool. "I guess you missed the beginning of the show, huh?"

She has nothing against Baal, really. He seems like a pretty good guy, and he has some good ideas about this place. However, he's still part of the other Pantheon, and she knows that he wouldn't approve of everything that Woden's done for them.

Even with her rebirth, Pachamama is not overly fond of Maurtia Falls; the seediness of the city, the standoffish attitudes... those are enough to put her off from visiting as often as she should. The violence is something she can't stand though and as she watches strangers beginning to tussle with one another, she steps forward as well.

"That's enough," she says firmly, recognizing the pink haired one as none other than Aion from the Pantheon meeting. Pachamama is quick to join her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She relaxes when she sees Pachama arrive on the scene, comforted by the presence of another Pantheon member. Aion sighs, and says, "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm not sure about-"

Aion is interrupted by a yell from the crowd. A few concertgoers and club patrons formed a wall to block off the trouble maker, but he tried to push on through, like a human battering ram. She raised her hands, preparing herself for a fight.

Her defenses grow as the man continues making a scene, even trying to physically bully his way through the crowd. Pachamama squares her shoulders, but doesn't make an attempt to strike back herself. She merely looks on worriedly, glancing back at Aion.

"What is going on?"

"I have no idea," she says. "He just-"

Before she can say anything he breaks through the crowd and lunges himself at her. Moving on instinct, she jumps out of the way, just barely avoiding his punch.

Pachamama immediately jumps to the defense, stepping closer to Aion to shield her from any impending attacks. She glowers back at Aion's assailant, shoulders taut.

"That will be enough," she says quietly.

The ground seems to tremble, but it's not entirely noticeable. Not yet anyway.

Pachama's presence startles him, and he pauses just long enough to sneer at her.

"And who the hell do you think you are?!," he screams, staring at her with a wild look in his eyes. "You...you're all the same! All of you!"

He's getting in their space again, and Aion steps forward, standing at Pachama's side.

"We're not going to warn you again," she says, her voice as hard as steel. "Back off, now!"

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Why are you looking for a harmony

an untag????

a few days later...

more like a few days HATE HER am i right

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