Avaritia Arrival Log

[cancrymods]

AVARITIA

It's Vegas, baby! Oh wait, I already made that joke on the location page... With Esme's iron-fisted reign brought to an end and the Executors given time to take a very well-earned break, it finally comes down to descend to the next layer of Purgatory. Thankfully, with this being the group as a whole's second descent, things are a little less nerve-wracking this time around... maybe. Hopefully. ... Probably. Welcome to Avaritia. Feel free to use this arrival log to chronicle your initial misadventures in the Greed Layer of Purgatory. As noted in the location page, several locations will require further investigation if you'd like to get some information on them, so get investigating! Drop a comment down to the Investigation Request subheader if you'd like to explore. Get out there and have fun!

Comments

[schardynfreude]

[Once Chiron procures himself an umbrella from above, he's happy as a clam in the streets. Humming along, taking in the sights, slowly twirling the monstrosity in hand. He stops at a street corner where something jazzy pours out of a door left ajar to let people in and out, and he dances along, a little jig, tapping in puddles and kicking up water. He's a nuisance, but he's having fun! The fog plays with the lights and the patter of rain and it seems just fine. These people are having a good time, and he would love to snatch a margarita as big as his head, but--

--but money is apparently an issue on this level. He tries a few different things:
-First he tries gathering some assortment of bullshit from Limbo and setting up in a stand. It's already up, just unoccupied for the moment! His now. Hocking some wares for some paltry coinage. It isn't...much but he gets the occasional scrap?
-Second he tries, once he gets a feel for this city and what it's all about, is making absurd bets with people. Ranging from popping up behind someone with a bag of some ultra mega hot hot hot ghost pepper chips from the conbini and going "bet you can't eat three chips without begging for a drink" or "I can make it up to that balcony without even entering the building or breaking a sweat, oh you think I can't, want to bet on it?" or...dumb shit like that. He gets more takers than he thinks he ought to, really.
-Third he tries actually playing games. It isn't that he's bad at them, but there's a lot more actual luck than cheesing it, so he'd rather not, but he also manages to have fun with some of the more sociable games. You won't catch him pulling too many slot machine arms when he can schmooze with someone at the poker table to get a reaction, or squeeze in close with people throwing dice.

And yes, he keeps trying for the theater, but he does keep getting booted out (whether by the floor just. shitting him out or by Lion of all people), but he certainly plans to make his way inside whether by crook or by...actual money! He's huffy about it, but determined.]

thnks fr th mmrs

[schardynfreude]

[There is just one small trivial matter, after several...let's call them "days", here in the afterlife. The rain gets a bit old when it's all the time, even with some protection, with a slight chill permeating the air. It hadn't hit him until now, just now, what about a dark city shrouded in rain feels so terribly familiar. He stops where he is, feet alight on the railing of a balcony where he has shown off to some unsuspecting better that he can in fact move faster than the blink of an eye, quicker than lightning and five times as beautiful. Not everyone has gotten wise to his stupid parlor trick yet.

And then he sees it. All of it, all at once.

The man with the metal arm. The shining city by the sea. The whirlwind of destruction from a sleeping serpent. The clash of titans and the remnants of civilization under siege. The woman. The woman shining bright. The woman growing dim. The woman shrouded in white and gold and then red. The woman. The two lone figures holding vigil over two more. The failed disguise. The unconscious boy. The power. The offer. The ring. The scars. The pitiful attempt at a fight.

When he comes to, he wonders why the air is rushing past and how he got halfway to the ground like this.

Impulse takes over. He redirects himself in a flash, crouched atop a lightpost. Pushes himself further still, atop a gaudy neon sign. He aches. He hurts. One more to take him away.

Chiron becomes sparse for a time. It might be possible to run across him, under an awning or crouched in an alley, or even inside in a corner, seeming smaller, huddled, hunched. Small. Might even see him outside of Avaritia, where it's dry, where it's safer, saner, where he might be able to clear his head. He does not answer texts or discordia pings, does not show up at either the Limbo house or Esme's mansion, not to eat or to sleep. The only thing that might get his attention is someone needing medical attention, but even still...

Later. Later he gives existing a go again, but he's different. Tries to put on a face. Tries to be as he was. There's something behind his eyes. He might not understand, but he understands more.]

even though they weren't so great

[discutio]

[Elsewhere back in Limbo, Phoenix had become scarce and radio silent himself for a time.]

[It wasn't something he could avoid--wasn't something he truly wanted to avoid, all things considered.]

Chiron.

Can you return to Limbo for a time?

[schardynfreude]

[Nope nope antelope he does not want to do this. He has questions, but...it would hardly be fair, would it?]

might be better if I don't

[discutio]

And what makes you say that?

[Unless...no. What were the odds of that?]

[schardynfreude]

not a good time I'm afraid

[IF HE KEEPS IT VAGUE SURELY THAT'S NOT SUSPICIOUS AT ALL RIGHT]

[discutio]

Chiron, please.

I'm asking you, in earnest, to come speak to me in person.

[schardynfreude]

[oh no. Oh No. When does that ever truly happen? But also, he hates this?]

Are you hurt?

[discutio]

No.

[Not physically.]

It isn't your abilities I require. I only wish to speak to you.

[schardynfreude]

What did I do?

[Neutral enough. It could very much be a 'what did I do now, it wasn't me it was Ruin' kind of text.

but also what did he DO]

comment IN THE RIGHT PLACE THIS TIME

[mementomoritz]

[There's the sound of soft footsteps, slowly approaching where Chiron's huddled in an alley, and the faint sloshing sound of water on glass.]

Oh!

[Abruptly, the rain cuts off as Medic leans over him, peering curiously at him for any sign of injury. Her umbrella covers them both.]

Are you... enjoying the weather? [She's not sure, but that doesn't seem quite right.]

[schardynfreude]

[Where some times during his previous memory he could be jumpy and hurried and startled, now he is slow to come to. Slow to look up. He's filled with the sense that she should not be here, and yet a sardonic tone still seeps out of him.]

Give it another few hours and I may yet float away with all the flotsam and-- [His teeth clack together as he sucks in a breath.]

Ah...forgive me, I don't seem to... [He knows where he is and yet he also finds he doesn't, slipping between worlds of here and of memory.]

[mementomoritz]

Hmm, would a whole person be flotsam or jetsam? I can never remember the difference...

[She tilts her head, looking curious and mildly concerned, but not hurt or frightened. Any bitterness in his tone has flown largely over her head.]

Are you not feeling well? [She's a healer, after all. Priorities.]

[schardynfreude]

...No. No, I'm afraid my mind is rather afflicted with troubled memories. I am feeling...

[He coughs out something that seems like it should be a laugh.] I am most certainly feeling.

[mementomoritz]

Ohhhh. [She pauses for a moment. Rapidly flips through her mental filing cabinet for anything helpful or appropriate to this situation, and only comes up with one response.]

...Do you want to talk about it?

[Third time's the charm, hopefully.]

[schardynfreude]

Ah. Er. Now may not be a good time. [She's really very dear, but he's also dissociating into a few dimensions over. He shakes his head and at least seems a little more present than when she first found him.]

Actually. Could you do the talking? I think it...is helping.

[urge to kill...lowering...]

[mementomoritz]

[Some people might have questions about that request. Then there's Medic.] Okay!

[She holds up a medium-sized glass jar for him to see. It's about two-thirds full of rain and has a label reading Avaritia precip. sample 03, which has been heavily covered by clear plastic sticky tape for waterproofing purposes.]

Today I'm doing chemical analysis on the water supply for the three layers we have unlocked. Did you know each one of them has a slightly different mineral content? The drinking water here comes out exactly like I'd expect for this rainwater if you ran in through a standard home filter, but it's noticeably different from the tap water in Invidia, and they're both different from the water in Limbo!

All three of them are safe to drink, but it's a big enough difference that I can tell which layer an unlabeled sample came from just by testing it!

[alcahest]

[ Mona is very fond of being able to message her friends, now; with several recovered memories of a house filled with friends she cared a great deal about, she's become a social creature. she likes to be around people. she likes that she can talk to them even when they're far away. photos of things she sees, idle thoughts she has throughout the day — some of it she saves to talk about when she gets home, of course, but there are often little things she shares, whether with the group chat or more directly.

Chiron is on the receiving end of plenty of these messages. so she knows when she stops seeing him around that she's not simply missing him by bad luck. he doesn't come back home, either, and she suddenly knows how he felt when she disappeared.

there are many possibilities. he may have vanished entirely, like Kingslayer. he might be hurt or in trouble somewhere. he could be avoiding them all for any of a dozen reasons.

it's not important at all. whatever the explanation for why he's gone, Mona spends days looking for him everywhere. even if he doesn't want to be found, that's fine, but she isn't going to let him just slip out of the picture. not until he knows it will matter. she didn't believe that about herself until he found her, so she needs to return the favour.

she finds him in an alley in Avaritia, shielded from the rain by the eaves of a building, and without a second thought she goes to him at a jog. ]

Chiron!

[schardynfreude]

[For a moment, he does not know his name. Does not react as such to said name. And then there is a woman, and he blinks, looking at her, not entirely...present. Surely she isn't here for him, right?

A blink, two, and his vision seems to clear, the recognition apparent.

And he looks away. She should not be here. Not with him.]

[alcahest]

[ so his avoidance was deliberate, then. Mona feels a sting of hurt that is nevertheless easy to let go of — she doesn't know his reasons or what he's feeling, and she won't judge him for this. it would be absurd to take it personally when he's been avoiding all of them, though she would have hoped he might have said something to her before he did. she knows she didn't, when she pulled away from everyone, but then he was the one who spoke to her and reassured her, and...

well. she's not going to call it hypocrisy. the least she can do is offer the same hand to him, now. ]

You haven't come home... I was worried.

[ she reaches for his sleeve, but it's a slow, cautious motion. she's not going to push him if he feels that he needs space, or he simply doesn't want her to touch him. he can back away all he needs to, and she won't blame him; it's a familiar feeling for her, too, one she still can't explain. ]

[schardynfreude]

Ah...

[He's hesitant, at the reach. Flexes his hand, stiffens, but...but it's Mona. He'll not hurt her by pushing her away.

At least, not yet.]

Has it...been long? I've been...

[Here. There. Wandering. Aimless. Heedless of the passing of time, which is familiar, too familiar now, not that it matters, what does it matter-]

fun with socialising

[curiositydies]

[ Frost occasionally toys with the slot machines, but he's more interested in people. People are where the money is, after all, and if he can skim a few of those coins off the top for his trouble, so much the better.

Finding one of his fellow Executors at the poker tables is intriguing enough to draw his attention, and he's never been one to deny his own curiosity. So off he goes, to see Chiron. ]

Do you actually know how to play, or are you here for other purposes? [ He's watching the game with avid interest, himself. He likes things with rules. Rules mean people expect them to be followed - an expectation he can bend or break. ]

[schardynfreude]

Mm, bit of both. [Bit of memory that seems inherent somehow, bit of picking it up from watching and learning.] One must, apparently, make money somehow in this particular world. And there are such interesting skills involved.

[He is finding himself particularly fond of the whole bluffing routine, and trying to find tells.] Look- [He ushers Frost closer and, shielded, shows him his hand. It's pretty shit, actually, but he smiles in a pseudo-conspiratorial way before laying them flat again. Someone stares at him across the table for a long, long moment, sniffs, and folds.] It's quite fascinating.

[From a psychological perspective.]

[curiositydies]

[ Frost waves a hand, casually, dismissive. ] Making money is one way to put it. Talking people out of theirs is more accurate. [ And more interesting! He leans over with interest, watching Chiron and simply nodding and smiling when he does, to play along. And as someone folds, that smile turns into a grin. ]

It's a fascinating little game, isn't it? The more I watch, the more it seems to me that it's far less about the cards and far more about fooling everyone else at the table. [ He is genuinely enthusiastic about it, in his own way. ]

[schardynfreude]

[Chiron props his elbows up on the lip of the table, resting his chin lightly on threaded fingers and eyeballing the few competitors left on this round at the table.]

It's a shockingly social game, even if some here are rather reticent to chat with one another. Perhaps you'd like to try? Far more interesting than one of those silly slots. You can't stare down a machine and figure out what makes it tick.