Carlisle grins toothily and pushes off the dome with his shoulder. “Good. There’s nothing wrong with going to see one of the counselors later, don’t get me wrong on that point, but I personally favor a clean break in the beginning.”
“So, first things first,” the orc begins, starting to walk and motioning for you to fall in. “Our settlement is called Ionuin. You, me, every person you see here, died. Close as we can tell, we’re all people who died with ambitions unfulfilled. Not like ghost unfinished business where it’s something specific, more like we all had somebody we were trying to be and we all got iced before we could make it there. Every one of us washed up on the shore, was met by the Watcher, and told to get over to that well. Every other rule in this place we’ve had to figure out for ourselves, or near enough.”
Carlisle raises a finger. “Rule 1. You are, functionally, immortal. You will not age. The memories you had in life will not fade, but any new memories you make will. This is particularly a bitch if one of the last things you heard is a pop song that’s been getting stuck in your head off and on for the last two centuries. You do not need to eat, drink, sleep, or take a dump, but I recommend doing all of the above on a schedule -- particularly for your first couple years. It helps ease the transition.”
The orc reaches the edge of the roundabout centered on the well chamber and stops, waving expansively at all the buildings that border the dome. “No one actually lives in these buildings. We built new ones specifically so we didn’t have to live so damn close to the well. If you’re scared and don’t know where to go, come here. This area is mouseholed together underground, and all the buildings are internally reinforced and able to be barricaded. While this place is primarily for administrative, judicial, and punitive functions, the buildings themselves, plus the underground, is enough to house everyone who lives here in the case of emergency, which brings me to my next point.” Carlisle raises a second finger. “While you are immune to death by natural causes, you can still be killed by pretty much anything that would have killed you before.”
“Remember, immortality is NOT invincibility. Getting killed here is, arguably, worse than dying in ‘real life’. In ‘real life’ most people who die get to go give Jesus a firm handshake and go play pelvic pinochle with an angel, or at least I damn well hope so. Here, you come back when you die.” Carlisle grimaces and starts walking again, taking you beyond the settlement’s inner block. “There is no way that I can make you understand this, so I imagine you’re going to have to experience it at some point, but do not take the knowledge that you will come back as an excuse to not struggle against death and under absolutely no fucking circumstance should you use it as a method to get back to town quickly. When you die your body will discorporate into saltwater and you will reincorporate at that well, or whichever well you gave your name to last if you happen to find another. Each time you return you will lose a part of yourself, some of your original memories, and you can’t get those back. Happens enough times and you’ll be left with nothing but a driving hunger, a need you can’t quench but can’t even remember, and a dire certainty that everyone around you knows what’s going on but won’t tell you.” The orc stops, pausing to look you in the eyes. “You’re an elf, so there’s not as much adjusting to the lifespan, but you need to realize that, eventually, this is going to happen to you. You can’t keep yourself completely safe at all times, and if you could, you’d go mad. Most of your days here will be spent balancing your safety against a fervent desire to just let everything end.”
“When you can no longer balance the two yourself, when you’ve either died so many times that you’re having difficulty remembering who are, or when the ennui of life has brought you to a point you no longer want to remember who you are, come here,” Carlisle says, pointing towards a long, two-story building. It’s covered in painted murals, semi-abstract patterns that fade into desert vistas. In front of the structure is a raised plinth with a statue of carefully bent and bright-polished scrap metal strips, depicting a lean human woman in a jacket and jeans, hair drawn into a pony-tail, reaching down with an outstretched hand. At the base of that statue is a symbol of that same outstretched hand, and a single word ‘Amystis’. “This place, and most of the surrounding buildings, is our asylum ward, and we mean that in the old sense of the word. When you can no longer stand the world, you can find sanctuary here, and counselors who can help you find your way to a happier life again. There’s no shame in it, I’ve been in and out here before.” He shrugs and starts walking again. “My kind don’t adjust as well to having our lifespans stretched to infinity. Anyway, if you’re found by others and unable to remember who you are, you’ll be taken there as well. With time, they may be able to bring you back to something approaching normal. They can’t give you back your memories, but they can help you focus on what’s left. ”
As the two of you walk away from the asylum the orc’s mood visibly lightens. He takes a turn, guiding you towards the southern edge of the city, and you can immediately see more people on the street. You still feel very watched, but now most people will actually look you in the eye and give you a nod or a wave. One, who you recognize as the elf you surprised earlier, actually tosses a flower at you. It’s a pale lilac color, and not one you’re familiar with. Not that you have much in the way of flower expertise. Being and elf did not, as some expected, immediately make one a friend of all nature.
Carlisle grins with one side of his mouth as he looks down at you and the flower, the expression almost a leer. “Subpoint I missed about the immortality. You can’t have kids, and you aren’t susceptible to disease as far as we know. So…” The orc wiggles bushy eyebrows and makes a lewd gesture with his hands. “Go nuts. Just don’t break hearts. Everybody is just trying to stay happy here, get some of the paradise they missed out on. Personal contact is a part of that, but I’d strongly advise keeping yourself entirely honest about what you want out of a relationship. People here will respect that -- and, being new, you’ll probably find no shortage of people looking to ‘personally contact’ you.” The orc gestures expansively. “This ward we try and keep for social activities, our limited selection of restaurants, bars, dens, and we even have a couple of small courts for various games. It’s a place to be among people again. If you’re the social type, you’ll probably find yourself here a lot. If you’re less than social, you’ll probably avoid this place like the plague.” The orc shrugs, a ‘take it or leave it’ kind of gesture. “Important thing here is that we don’t really do the money thing anymore. We tried, but what people value are novel experiences and pleasant interactions, which is difficult to quantify. People do things because they want to, which can make even something relatively simple, like, say the process of getting a beer, damn complicated.”
You get the strong sense that example was not drawn from thin air, but your guide keeps walking and talking before you can inquire further.
“Food here is pretty limited. Mammalian life is rare, and we don’t dare hunt or kill it as it appears to behave the same way we do with regards to rebirth. Sea life, including sea birds, however, that dies, stays dead, and gets eaten just how you expect. Baked seagull and crab on dried seaweed is an unfortunately frequent staple. Basically, if you can’t pull it out of the ocean, you have to scavenge it or make it, and the latter is what our next ward is about.” Carlisle points to one of the largest buildings you’ve seen so far, a three story, almost towerlike, construction with two attached wings with the low, long, squat profile of warehouses. “That’s our outfitter. Man who runs it is a bit of asshole about driving bargains, but it’s what keeps him sane. He buys most of what salvagers going into the city bring back, and he keeps a list of high-value items people have brought back or are interested in. Most of the other places here are either workshops where people work with scap materials, or dedicated specific shops where you can try and pick up some of the nice things people make. Again, given that we don’t actually have money, this can be tricky. Some people want to see their stuff used, others want to feel that the things they make are valuable, so you can sometimes get a nice shirt for less than a carved cucumber.”
“When you want to make something yourself, don’t be afraid to ask around to borrow someone else’s shop. As long as you let them watch and can prove you won’t break their things, most folk here are happy to learn a new trick or two and let you borrow their tools.”
Carlisle keeps walking, pointing out various specific shops or buildings currently abandoned. The sun’s starting to get close to the gigapolis skyline, and you get the sense that night will be swift when the sun hits that line.
“Our next ward is a place you’ll almost certainly be spending time. We refer to it as the academy ward, but it’s a helluva lot less stuffy than that. You want to learn how to wrestle? You’ll find a place to do that. You want to teach someone how to blow glass? You can do that here. You have a long life ahead, and I’ve found that gaining and teaching new skills is one of the better ways to stay motivated.” The orc punches his knuckles into the palm of his other hand. “If you’re looking for me, and I’m not in the central buildings or making the rounds, I’m probably around here.”
“The Academy ward is also where we do our experimentation into the finer points of how this world works. Our Mnemesmicists -- that’s what our particular brand of magic science eggheads call themselves -- can explain it better than I can, but, and this is point three about the world, essentially everything in this world is made of memories. Using that is something you can, and should, learn from them. I don’t use their arts that much, haven’t had much call to, but knowing how to do something and not doing it is a choice, while remaining ignorant of how to do something useful is just being a dumbshit.”
Finally, having completed a long crescent walk that’s let you end up on the northern edge of town, Carlisle points to a tall metal broadcast tower to the west, closer to the megalopolis and just at the edge of town. A number of much smaller buildings cluster around the tower, and even from here you can see cables strung between them like fairy lights. “That down there is our technical ward. It’s mostly internal stuff, but it’s where we’ll need to go eventually to get you set up with a network ID. It’s hardly a SIN, we don’t have that kind of tech, but we do have an intranet set up in the settlement to keep people together, send announcements, and, importantly, track time. It’s not a lot, but it’s a helluva lot more than any other settlement I know of having.”
Carlisle looks up at the sky and squints. “I know I’ve been running my jaw for most of this, and I promised to answer your questions, but we’ve probably got enough time left in the day for you to meet one of our movers and shakers in person. Since you’re new, you’ll be flattering them by paying them your first visit to anyone, and making somebody feel nice is the closest thing we have to currency, so keep that in mind.”
“I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can along the way, but your options for the ‘high and mighty’ to talk to are; Bult, who runs the outfitter; Sirrin, our chief Mnesmesmicist; Kraham, our current head counselor; Nathan, current curator for academy courses; and Layli, who runs our intranet, social network systems, and most of technical.”
You can ask questions mostly freely, but you should decide on a single person to visit.
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Topic: [SG] Arisen (Read 5633 times)