Voidus

Moderators
  • Content count

    14,787
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    56

Voidus last won the day on March 15

Voidus had the most liked content!

Community Reputation

13,686 God Beyond

About Voidus

  • Rank
    The First Lurker of the Dark Alley
  • Birthday 06/19/1992

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Other
  • Location
    Australia
  • Interests
    Creating Epics and creating more Epics.
  1. Humming gently to himself as he walked, Professor Esserethel had stopped to read the headlines at a paper kiosk when he noticed Bennington streak into a nearby side street, leaving a momentary flash of purple in his passing. The Professor gave the vendor an apology and a slightly too-wide smile before following after his many-limbed friend into one of the darker corners of the city. Curious as to what had drawn Bennington here, Lucien followed after and found him slowly circling over a young man slumped against the cracked bricks of a boarded up old shopfront. A quick glance over both shop and the raggedly-clothed individual revealed no clues to explain Bennington's behaviour. Perhaps he was simply bored? Or hungry? Or perhaps he'd noticed the telltale hollow cheeks, vacant expression and trembling limbs of a Streetspice addict and gotten curious. "Come on." The Professor said. "I'll tell you about it on the way." He turned to go but something about the addict kept his attention, the Professor found his gaze lingering on the fragile young man as he tried to determine what exactly it was that was drawing him so. Perhaps some sign of undiagnosed illness? An addict would quite possibly have a number of those. Maybe he should take the young man back to the university to see? A simple medical examination was not beneath his capabilities even if medicine was not one of the fields he held an official doctorate in. He could find the problem, quite possibly some early stage liver failure and then it would be a simple enough process to find some anaesthetics and antiseptics. Failing all else he could cut into his abdominal cavity and perform some exploratory surgery to find the problem. Benningtons circles slowed as the Professor thought the problem over, finally bobbing in what could only be satisfaction before slipping his way towards a nearby alleyway. In a flash the Professor realised that the alley could offer an even faster solution. He could simply help the lad into one of those strange alleyways he'd stumbled into a week prior and with the solitude that was then assured he would be able to test a few hypotheses. He was stepping forwards, hand already stretching to offer assistance when his eyes locked onto the darkness in that alley. He saw more than a simple lack of light there, he saw the space between spaces that the alleys occupied. He saw a dark cavern filled with gentle water and the promise of relief from all worries. He saw a pair of merciless eyes staring through his being in expectation, filled with horrible secrets that would extinguish his sanity like the tiny flickering candle that it was. The Professor's humming stopped immediately. His hand, half extended towards the young man, began to shake. At first just a twitch of the fingertips but quickly he pulled it back to his chest as it felt that every muscle fiber twitched in primal reaction to that darkness and its promises. Through that hand he felt his heart thundering inside his ribs, pushing crimson fear through his body. His breathing accelerated as he twisted on the spot and hastily stepped back to the safety of the main street. "Shop's this way Bennington." He muttered weakly, his wide eyes fixed on the ground in front of him lest he accidentally spot another portal into that dark nightmare. @ZincAboutIt
  2. Laurelai was lost staring at the shelves, her interest flittered from one to the other in an endless, glorious loop. There was no signage to help her identify what shelf held what information but that knowledge barely fazed her. Laurelai had picked up many skills and trades to varying levels of proficiency over her life, she was quite used to casting a wide net when it came to research and learning. Perhaps she should simply pick a shelf and see what it held? “Well met, Laurelai Esserethel.” A voice nearby said, eventually drawing her attention back at the sound of her name. She stared at the slender finger, taking a little longer than usual to recognize a Singer in Scholarform, perhaps due to the ardent robes, though likely it had more to do with the endless wells of knowledge that kept threatening to steal her focus once more. Giving her head a slight shake she tried to smile and nod politely at the Ardent before Lita's words finally caught up to her mind and her eyes snapped back to her redheaded mentor. "Herald of Records?" She said, voice lowering habitually in a library. "Is that the same as a department head? Or a Rosharan title?" Mentally she flicked through every book she'd read on Rosharan history but unfortunately that of the Singers was still frustratingly under recorded. While some of their oral traditions had been transcribed it was far too few for her liking. It had also not been a particular area of focus of hers beyond the tiny handful of times she'd needed to help a Singer patient at the hospital. "And what does 'All the way' mean?" She pressed, the rising tide of her curiosity pushing past her natural inclination for polite, measured speech. "How far back do these records go?" Actually that one she could likely guess at herself, legends said that the Alleys predated the city, which had always seemed to be a bit of a contradiction to her. How did one have alleys without a city? But having walked through them now she could believe it. And this room certainly seemed older than anything else she'd seen. But then how much older? What did older even mean in this context? The Alleyverse was separated from most other worlds' time streams, a day here could mean a hundred years on Scadrial and simultaneously only a minute on Earth. So many questions and so few answers, and those answers came far too slowly to satisfy her itch. Absently she noticed Azim leave, presumably to begin collating the documents that Lita had requested. But she could not simply sit idly about while those were gathered. Surely there had to be something else here, one of these documents must be able to answer her questions. "Is there an index here?" She said, voice steadily accelerating. "Somewhere to note what's collected where? Or a categorization system at the least. Chronological? Topical would be preferred, easier to find related subjects that way. But then I suppose if citations are listed correctly with some kind of reference number then that would simplify things and assuming this includes historical records as well as experimental then chronological organisation would make sense as well, perhaps some kind of hybrid model or duplication of records across both, or collations of similar records into volumes." She felt herself growing dizzy at the thoughts as her mind spiderwebbed into different possibilities, chasing down each string as she came across it into an endless web that she couldn't quite make sense of. But if she just concentrated harder she would understand. No, that wasn't it. Her attention was here, she was focussed correctly even as she felt another migraine begin to build. The problem was the resources she had available, as things stood now this hall of records couldn't serve her needs. She needed something faster, more immediately able to answer her questions as they arrived. Still stationary at the desk her eyes hunted around the room, looking for something before finally arriving at Lita again. She was the head of a department wasn't she? The leader of all the spies in the Alleys. Surely she must have accumulated a wealth of information from her position. Perhaps not as much as the department of records in quantity but infinitely more easily searchable. She'd answered so many of Laurelai's questions already and helped her find her own answers to several more. And after all, she had been drawn to Lita that night, not to this library. That meant her initial decision, to become an acolyte under the spymistress of the Dark Alleys must have been the correct one and Lita would surely be able to- Breathe. She heard her own voice say, dimly in the back of her mind. She'd realised that she was getting tunnel vision as she stared into Lita's eyes, hoping to mentally wrest the secrets from them. But perhaps that tunnel vision had less to do with her focus and more to do with impending asphyxiation. "Sorry." Laurelai said as she drew in fresh air to clear her mind. "I suppose that was my inner scholar coming out a bit." Laurelai was usually very practised at arranging her expression, whether a deliberately patronising smile to an irritating peer or a polite refusal to somebody in a dance hall. But why was it that as the day went on she was finding it harder and harder to force her face back to some semblance of polite calm? She prayed to whatever gods dwelt in the Alleys that Lita didn't take her stiff smile personally. If she decided that she'd had enough of Laurelai and deposited her back into the city, with no way to answer these questions anymore, then Laurelai was not entirely sure of what she might do in order to seek the answers out for herself. The simplest solution was simply to make sure to do whatever was needed to keep her new employer happy.
  3. He's an old DA experiment, pretty small-time stuff really. Basically stopped after his first bargain and ended up in an eternal nightmare of his own creation as punishment. We resurrect him again every now and then when he gets killed by adventurous sorts.
  4. "Hmm?" Professor Esserethel asked as he saw Benningtons drifting movement. "What have you found there?" Wiping his hands off on his coat, then frowning at the stains that caused, the Professor walked to the cupboard and pulled a bottle that Bennington seemed interested in. A bottle of food colouring? The recipe didn't mention any colouring agents, would it still be fine to use? He supposed that the whole point of these kinds of additives was to not change the taste or chemical process of the food so it should be fine. And as he looked at the bottle the deep colouration did seem appealing. Red. The simple label drew his attention for some reason. The word printed on the side seemed somehow larger than the entire bottle was, bloated with importance and meaning. He smiled as he read the word over and over before opening the bottle and pouring a little of the liquid on his finger. He watched as a deep red droplet balanced precariously on a fingertip before slowly draining into the recesses and whorls of his fingerprint. In moments he was left with only stained skin, and an empty feeling. This red was nice, but perhaps a little bit off? He wanted a deeper shade. When it was in the bottle it seemed nice but as it spread the colour had thinned out into something far too pale. "Do we have any others?" He asked, half to himself and half to Bennington who was looping enhusiastically around the bottle still. "Something a little darker maybe?" After pulling every bottle he could find from the cupboard, Lucien determined that his foresight for food colouring purchases had been limited to one each of Red, Blue and Yellow. Perhaps assuming that with primary colours he could blend something else if needed. But there was no way to get the shade he wanted with those. He tried adding it to some melted chocolate and that was closer. He felt a thrill of excitement as he watched them combine in the saucepan, a thick consistency and slow dripping red colouration that seemed absolutely perfect but then as it cooled it just looked... wrong. Again. "Maybe we should go shopping." He said, looking over to Bennington. "We're almost out of coffee too so I'd need to pick some things up soon anyway." Maybe the walk would help keep his mind clear. Following the recipe had helped but as he'd gotten lost in his search for the perfect red he'd moved back towards experimentation, his mind flowing freely as he searched for that elusive colour that would make everything better. But thinking too freely would be dangerous, if his thoughts were flowing freely instead of guided then they could drift anywhere, they could drift back to a quiet corner of the hospital where a young, bright woman shone with radiant joy at every conversation. Stop that! He chided, nearly yelling in his mind to cut himself off. He pulled his attention back to Bennington and tried to change topic, anything to guide his thoughts elsewhere. What had he just been talking about? Going shopping and needing something else? Coffee! "But don't get your hopes up." He scolded, waggling a finger at Bennington even as he smiled. "I know you don't do well with coffee. You're always getting into trouble aren't you?" The words echoed as they left his mouth, he could half hear them spoken as if by someone else. Someone very familiar but also somehow distant. Had she ever said those words to him before? There was a brief flash of the two of them in a small kitchen, talking over a coffee machine and Vivica waggling a finger into the air as she scolded Bennington with a gentle but teasing expression. But no, that was ridiculous. Vivica hadn't been allowed near a kitchen, most of the time she hadn't even been allowed hot coffee out of fear that she'd use it to burn someone. "Hallucinations and now false memories." Nox said with a chuckle. "I must be going quite mad indeed." Still chuckling to himself he picked up his keys and headed to the door, holding it open long enough for his violet friend to float out before they both hit the city streets. @ZincAboutIt
  5. Was it Laurelai's imagination? Or had the room actually increased in temperature a little as the two women exchanged predatory grins? Either way Mister Darsen was certainly in for an interesting afternoon. Hopefully he appreciated how fortunate he was to have the attention of two such lovely ladies and provided them with the information that they needed. But if not.. As she stood, Laurelai's expression sharpened again, molten hunger cooled and was forged into a blade of desperate need. If they couldn't find what they needed by asking Mister Darsen kindly then she would need to see if pain could unpick what pleasantries could not. Despite only moments ago feeling briefly queasy at the mention of torture, Laurelai was also quite certain that if that was what she needed to do to pull the secrets from this man she was more than willing. She would pull everything he knew from him, leaving broken shell of a body behind as she left to find someone who knew more. More and more and more until she consumed all the secrets there were to know, until she was once again flooded by that omnipotent feeling of- "And here we are." Lita said, interrupting Laurelai's somewhat sadistic and horrifying thought process. With a start Laurelai realized that they had already arrived at the Department of Records, though she could barely even remember leaving Lita's office, let alone travelling through the Alleys between there and here. She'd been distracted by thoughts of something. What was it? Some idea or memory that slipped from her grasp faster the more she tried to grab at it. When Lita opened the door even that faint trace of a memory faded from her as Laurelai looked into the room beyond. Dozens upon dozens of identical desks filled the central space, most waited empty with a single sheet of paper on their surface and a golden pen perfectly positioned to the paper's side. Other desks seated denizens, not so strange to look at as the denizens of R&D but perhaps even more single-mindedly focussed on their task as the room filled with the quiet sounds of paper being turned and the scratching of pen against page. But while that central space was what immediately drew the eye it was dwarfed by what surrounded it. Enormous shelves that stretched from the floor to an impossibly high ceiling, ranging from simple wall cubbies where rolled sheets of parchment could be kept to steel drawers with manila files to some kind of rack that seemed designed to hold stone tablets of all things. The sheer number of documents in this space must exceed that of every library Laurelai had ever seen or heard of prior to this moment. I have been lost in the desert, dying of thirst. Laurelai realised. And here is my salvation. My Oasis. How foolish she had been to think that the toys that the R&D department held had built were the temptation of the Alleys, the power that she could gain. Compared to what was stored in these halls even the most powerful of spikes seemed like little more than a consolation prize. This was the true treasure. This was surely what had called to her and led her to Lita the night of the festival. "Where do we start?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly as she stared into the room with a desperate, unquenchable thirst. @ZincAboutIt
  6. “But don’t worry, R&D are always looking for assistants. I’m sure I could put in a good word if you’d like a transfer.” Lita said with a sharp smile. A jolt of anxiety hit her stomach as Laurelai met Lita's gaze. Her spine straightened as she felt herself instinctively make use of her full height and came very close to fixing her new boss with an icy stare of retaliation at the barb. Surely Lita knew that Laurelai hadn't actually meant... Lita winked before continuing on. God damnit Lita. Laurelai growled internally as she forced her posture to soften slightly. I am far too exhausted to deal with that Rusting wicked sense of humour right now. “But perhaps the most interesting thing about dear Mister Darsen" Lita continued as Laurelai firmly pushed her attention back to the conversation. "is that he works for us, that is to say, the DA.” Laurelai stiffened at that, she pulled her cup away from parched, waiting lips and placed it back on the table to stare more fully at Lita as she absorbed the impact of that sentence. Someone else in the DA was also investigating the hospital? But rather than approach the mistress of spies and information they'd either got the accountant to do it for them or else Mister Darsen himself was the one initiating the investigation. Lita quickly dismissed the idea of this being a formal investigation by one of the other departments before pulling out a sheet of paper and idly mentioning how she had acquired it. Laurelai was quite sure that the story was designed to intimidate her a little and test her response to such blatant discussion of violence. She was equally sure that it was quite effective as her face grew even paler than usual for a moment and she took another sip of tea to warm herself. "So we're preparing for fact finding and an interesting afternoon potentially?" Laurelai said, her eagerness at finding more answers quickly stamping out her momentary distaste at how some of them had been acquired. "Why Lita you do know how to spoil a girl." Her grin echoed Lita's own and the icy chill that her eyes had held since leaving her house that morning was taken over by a smouldering hunger for more hidden secrets. The intensity of the emotion almost startled Laurelai herself, who had always been curious, but this felt somehow different. Perhaps her fateful encounter with the DA had only stoked her hunger even as they fed a part of it, but whatever the reason she was more than happy to take the opportunity to satiate the rising need.
  7. "I take it you haven't?" Lita replied to Laurelai's question. Her energy had dimmed slightly but it still felt insufferable for someone to be that bright this morning. Laurelai gave a small shake of her head but didn't elaborate further, she wasn't truly sure what had caused her to have slept so poorly. Perhaps just some unseasonable warmth that she wasn't accustomed to, perhaps some forgotten nightmare. Whatever it was felt like it was going to drag her down all day if she let it, so rather than feel annoyed at Lita for her better fortune, Laurelai attempted to simply accept some of the light and warmth the other woman radiated and hope it lifted her day to something a little better. "Thanks." She said, smile a little more genuine this time as she accepted the tea. Sugar felt like a bit much but she did add a splash of cream to cup before taking a cautious sip. Blessedly the liquid did not scald her mouth, and almost instantly she felt some of the edge taken off of her headache. It wasn't a miraculous healing and did very little for the tension she couldn't seem to shake the feeling of, but it did help. It let her mind sharpen enough to actually catch Lita's next words as she explained their next steps before asking Laurelai about the department of records. "Heard of it." She replied truthfully. "But I haven't yet had a chance to drop by, though I'd hoped to once the immediate problem was solved. It does seem a useful place for one to try to orient herself here." She had considered visiting the department, they were responsible for much of the information that she'd gleaned so far to help her understand the Alleys and what happened there. But when the options were a library of records or the actual research department that created the things described in those records it was easy to guess which way curiosity would lead. She doubted any of the departments in the Alleys could truly be considered 'boring' by her normal standards, but going to something as mundane as a records room when visiting a magical secret society had seemed... wasteful. "Has something interesting happened there?" She asked with a wry smile. "Or are we on another fact-finding mission?" But from what she'd read about the Department of Records they only recorded events and experiments that had to do with the Alleys themselves. Information about the wider city was much more in keeping with Lita's department. What information on the well-dressed man could Records have that Lita didn't? @ZincAboutIt
  8. ”Ah, Laurelai,” Lita said, greeting her at the door. "Good, you’re just in time for tea.” Lita stood at the door, smiling with some hidden radiance. Dressed in a stylish purple dress and with a red-hot poker in one hand, she looked to be energetic and happy. She looked, at the least, to have had a rather splendid morning. She looked precisely the opposite of how Laurelai felt. "Morning Lita." Laurelai said, forcing a smile herself. "Tea sounds lovely." She didn't try too hard to conceal her tiredness or irritability, there was little chance of actually hiding it from Lita's keen senses. And on top of that there was some kind of unholy wail of the damned echoing inside the office that had given her a migraine the second the door had opened. Perhaps she had enough energy and skill to keep herself polite and professional, but she stood no chance at all of pretending to match the redhead's energy levels. Turning to close the door behind her she used the chance as her body shielded her from Lita's direct view to wince in pain and close her eyes. She stayed at the door for a fraction too long to be natural, briefly fighting the impulse to simply lean against the cool wood and collapse rather than work for the day. But her sense of duty propelled her back, helped her to turn around and gratefully take a seat at Lita's gesture. A copper pot in the center of the room revealed itself to be the source of the wailing as steam escaped from its spout. Laurelai found herself incredibly grateful for the Aonic kettle her father had given her which was both quick to use and much quieter. Laurelai stared at the pot with deep hatred until the noise slowly began to quiet, allowing her to actually hear again. She was glad once again that she had remembered to take that copper ring off back at R&D, if she hadn't she might very well have hurled it across the room now due simply to the shared metallic coloration with this infernal kettle. "You're looking good today." She commented, wishing that there was some professional way for her to rub at her temples and ease her headache. "Slept well?" @ZincAboutIt
  9. Happy birthday, Voidus!

    1. Not an Ookla

      Not an Ookla

      Happy birthday!

  10. I don't think we're in a position for a city-wide sideplot to start up, but that being said if someone wanted to do this in just a section of the city then sure. I would probably suggest thinking it through a bit more than just 'lol boars' to create some kind of actual plot and make sure that there are at least some players happy to be involved. We've often had problems with that kind of plot in the past so I'm usually cautious of plots that are basically just chaos for chaos' sake. Also if you want to use an existing thread make sure that the people currently active there are okay with it, not fun to be mid-serious-scene and then have a rampage of absurdity crash through the walls.
  11. "Thirteen more grams of that." Professor Esserethel said, making careful notation of the required measurement and speaking to his assistant off to one side. "And then it will need to be mixed thoroughly and incubated correctly." That was important, 90% of scientific work was about precision and careful methodology. Though of course the other 10% of spontaneous inspiration often completely ruined both precision and any amount of care that the Professor half-heartedly implemented. But today was not some mad flash of genius that prompted him to drink a metallic alloy with toxic components or test an Aon with unknown modifiers without protective gear. Today was a simple experiment. "Bennington?" The Professor repeated. "Did you hear? Thirteen more grams of flour before we mix it up and put it in the oven. I miscalculated earlier and if we don't add it now then the whole cake will be ruined." He wasn't sure what precisely had inspired him to make a cake, only that it seemed to be a convenient distraction. He had a recipe book to follow, that meant he didn't need to think, didn't need to remember. He could just allow himself to work monotonously and follow instructions. "Then next up.." he said, finger tracing a line of the book as he read ahead. "Frosting." The word sent a small shiver along his back, some unknown sense of excitement. A flash of fond memories, of all the times he'd sat down to have afternoon tea in the hospital. Vivica had always complained that they got the frosting wrong, maybe he could make something that she'd like. Bennington would probably know. "Seventy five grams of cooking chocolate, butter, icing sugar..." As he read the ingredients Lucien frowned. Following the recipe had been nice, simple. A distraction from thoughts. But now those thoughts were intruding again. Telling him on an instinctual level that this was wrong. That this was not how one should make icing. "You're neither a chef nor a baker." He reminded himself. His brow creased in a frown and he forced his hands to pick out the listed ingredients. "Bennington you can taste it after I make the first batch. Or actually I guess I will. How does that work exactly, do hallucinations know what I taste?" @ZincAboutIt
  12. It was sometimes strange how familiar the Alleys felt to Laurelai, how comfortable they were to walk through even knowing their dangers. In a sense, she supposed, she had been walking through them her whole life, the very periphery of them at least. The sections where the strange eldritch dimensions of the deeper alleys melded into mundanity until they touched upon the city proper. I wonder how many people have wondered in by accident. She thought, tracing one hand along a brick wall. How many citizens of the city took a wrong turn one day taking that step over the border between the ordinary streets and the unknowable horrors and never came home? At the very least she hoped that it was not so many that she bumped into one today, she wasn't even sure what the protocol would be if she found someone in the Alleys who didn't belong here. And given that she'd been sorely tempted to murder someone simply for blocking her path that morning, it was quite possible that she'd act first and question protocol second. Enraged murder would probably be less of a problem here than it was in her other job but it was still not a good impression to be setting. And that simply wouldn't do. We need to make sure that we're accepted here. Finally we have what we've been looking for within arms reach, don't go and ruin it now Laurelai. For a moment Laurelai felt a disquieting sensation that the voice she heard was not her own, or not entirely anyway. But she quashed the feeling and proceeded down the next Alley, doing her best to maintain regular breaths. She could feel her irritation still there, below the surface, but at least for now she should be able to remove all traces of it from her face and expression. After all, she'd made arrangements to stop by one of the other departments this morning and familiarize herself with them to better acclimate herself to her new role. Lita had mention what seemed like a dozen departments since Laurelai's recruitment, but as of yet R&D was the only one she'd been able to actually find. "Good morning." She said with a smile as she wondered in through a doorway which she was very concerned to discover wide open given that it was made of a half-foot of solid steel. "I hope you're all doing well." She was greeted with varying levels of enthusiasm by a number of individuals of even more varied appearance. From a 12 foot tall Koloss wearing glasses to what could perhaps best be described as some sort of higher-dimensional crystalline prism that seemed sharp enough to cut through that steel door like butter. It hummed in what she hoped was a friendly manner when she greeted it but made no moves of its own to greet her beyond that. Several of the denizens however were more than happy to return her greeting, discuss their research and prototypes and make requests for her to act as a test subject for new research. All of those requests she declined as politely as she could manage, though when someone asked her for the fourth time in a row she could feel herself growing increasingly harsher in response. Others were happy to simply bask in her astonishment of projects which had already been tested, or to offer her an array of tools and spikes that dwarfed what any university she'd ever heard of had access to. If she'd taken all of them up on their offer she felt like she probably could have given the Ascendant Warrior a run for her money in a fight, but personally Laurelai hoped to do as little fighting as possible. So she listened to descriptions and held weapons, and put on and tested so many unkeyed metalminds that she was tempted to keep the Zincmind just to prevent her brain from overheating. But after a heady rush of power, and a few introductions made that she hoped to leverage if she ever needed anything, Laurelai made her excuses to leave. After fending off a couple more requests to test something experimental the researchers all lost interest and returned to their own work with a singlemindedness that made her wonder if they would even notice if she stole something from under their noses. But she gathered she did not want to experience the consequences of that particular piece of idiocy, so she left the experimental chambers, moving to close the large steel door behind her. A simple copper band still gleamed on her finger, she didn't remember putting it on but given the nature of copperminds that was quite possibly the point. It was certainly not one of her own, Laurelai hadn't worn copper since she'd had a bracelet when she was twelve that stained her wrist green. She felt her heart seize for a moment when she realized that she had indeed almost stolen something. But as she stepped quietly back into the room, nobody seemed alarmed or made note of anything as she gently placed it back into the tray of metalminds that waited to be sorted back into storage or distribution. "Thank you again for your time." She said, finally closing the door behind her and feeling some of the stress leave her, even if that lingering feeling of irritation remained. The pen twitching in her pocket nearly gave her a second heart attack before she translated the message from Lita. “Good morning, Laurelai. Are you ready for your first interrogation?” Well she seems in a good mood today. Laurelai noted mentally, trying not to grow jealous of the woman's fortune in contrast with her own morning of stress and irritation. "Absolutely." She sent in reply, hoping that her annoyance did not show through the message. "I'll be at your office in two minutes." Squaring her shoulders, she set off once more down the strangely familiar alleyways. @ZincAboutIt
  13. Is where we keep track of new characters and approval for them, the first page will have an Index with specifics on how much is allowable but as a general rule a moderately skilled Knight Radiant at 1st Oath is about the standard power level for characters. If you have an idea post it there and we can discuss, if you have any questions about the RP and how it's run or the setting you can ask them here.
  14. The days passed far too quickly for Sudiov, there was one problem after another. First Voidus had nearly travelled to his old well of power, which surely would have been a disaster. Then when Sudiov had tried to avoid that he had been redirected to a well of infinite knowledge that the Stranger had sealed away. Sudiov had felt that brief instant where his rival had regained his memories before recoiling from what the chapel offered. Thankfully Voidus had not visited the Chapel again, but that girl had remained. Subsisting off of the tiny trickle of Stormlight she had harvested. He had no ability to know her thoughts, but he doubted she was planning anything good. Still, as long as she was in the Chapel she was harmless. She had fallen for the trap and would eventually starve or die of thirst. But the Forgery still weakened, more and more people had regained snippets of memory. It was only a matter of time before enough broke free that it would cause a collapse, uhim to tnless that is they could all be tracked down and restored in time. But at this rate the Forgery was hardly acting as a preferable alternative to what had been before. Peace maintained on an ocean of blood was no true peace. But now, one of the most problematic and persistent individuals had passed away. It was only a drop in the bucket, but the girls death had been enough of a relief on resources that Sudiov had some hope that things may indeed be recovered. Or he had, right up until five seconds ago when what remained of his connection to Voidus alerted him to something happening that terrified him. He felt the patchwork Forgery that concealed Voidus' soul be torn through. A vicious tearing of spiritual matter that only Hemalurgy could explain. But one spike would not be enough to break the Forgery would it? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Professor Esserethel felt a jolt of something pass through him as the copper pierced through his ear. Something more than cold metal. Like a key turning in a lock, or the final pieces of a design falling into place. Like... "Like a well-iced dessert." He mused, somehow managing to smile again at the thought. A flash of purple caught his eye as something circled slowly from behind him to the front, swimming elegantly through the air until it turned to stare at him. It glowed with a violet light and waved its multitude of appendages at him in a sight that should be terrifying, but somehow Lucien found it oddly comforting. He gave the figure a wry smile, looking it over before looking down at the picture in his hands. "Bennington?" He asked, identifying the creature from Vivica's drawing. "This must have hit me harder than I thought if I'm hallucinating."
  15. Lucien Esserethel walked the streets one arduous step at a time. He recalled only a few days prior when he had sprinted along the cobblestone to the hospital, fearful that something had happened to Laurelai. Now, he couldn't even bring himself to reply to the concerned messages that she'd left him, even if he summoned up the energy his tone would probably only leave her more worried or upset than before. "Excuse me." He muttered as he brushed past a Nalthian woman with a Lifeless servant in tow. The woman seemed startled to realize he existed, giving off even less of a presence than the servant. He felt trapped. He'd occasionally had bouts such as this before, but on most of those occasions he'd managed to overcome the listlessness with the glee and excitement he found at the hospital. So what could he do now to overcome this feeling? A dim cavern flashed through his mind, the gentle falling of water into a silent and peaceful pool. It was almost an attractive prospect, but along with the peace and the rain he saw a horrifying figure in that cavern. A monster in the shape of a young girl who smiled sweetly at him as she showed him horrifying visions. Was this what he had seen in those waters? Or were there somehow even worse horrors that awaited him in the future? The vision in his mind gave him no answers now, only that terrifying smile and those knowing eyes. He almost stopped as that memory led to others, to the hospital where he had been told what had happened. Where they had handed him the letter that she had written him, the letter he still hadn't read. It seemed to drag at him now, weighing him down and rooting him to the spot. But agonizingly he moved another step forwards, climbing the steps up to his front door. Then he just needed to raise his leaden arm, pull out his keys, open the door. Finally inside, he barely managed to stumble into the sitting room and collapse into a chair. He wasn't sure how many hours it took, sitting there and willing himself to reach into his coat, pull out the letter and read the final words she would ever say to him. Dimly he felt his body aching from holding the same awkward position that entire time, but moving himself felt more painful than enduring. The room was dark by the time he finally moved, trembling, his hand pulled the thin paper from his pocket and almost froze again upon trying to open it. But if he stopped now, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to start again. "Get it over with." Lucien muttered to himself, voice a raspy growl. Carefully opening the letter, he felt something heavy drop out. It slipped from his numb fingers and into his lap, glinting with a dull sheen in what little light remained in the room. He recognized the warm colour as copper, though he wasn't sure where Vivical could have retrieved something so thin and made out of copper like this. The sheen was broken due to something covering some of the surface of the metal. Thoughts moving with glacial speed eventually identified it as blood. Her blood. He braced himself for another stab of pain, but in its place he felt a small trickle of warmth and his lips curled for the briefest of instants into a smile. It was so very like her to give him a piece of blood-soaked jewelry that she'd made herself. He tried to keep the smile, used what energy he retained to try to keep his muscles in position. He wanted to be happy with her, even if it would be for the last time. But as he flipped the paper open to see the picture inside he felt himself lose the battle, the smile slipped and he didn't know how to make the expression again. With a resigned sigh he looked at Vivica's last gift, a drawing of the two of them together. Just over their shoulders a small purplish orb with tentacles hovered with a happy smile. Bennington, her imaginary friend who kept her company. "I hope that wherever she went you're still there Bennington." Lucien whispered. "She could use a friend." At least one of us should still have one. He thought to himself bitterly. Beneath the picture was a short note from Vivica, it had none of the usual hallmarks of a suicide note. Dearest Nox, This earring is for you. You have to remember. For me. I’m sorry I missed our coffee. I know I would have loved it. Always, Vivica He had to remember? Did she think so little of him that she thought he would forget her just because she was gone? Much as forgetting might be easier, Lucien knew that he would remember the cheerful young woman and her always enjoyable conversations for the rest of his life. Every time he made a coffee, drew a sketch, walked into an alleyway. He would remember. It seemed that the small, bloodied piece of bent copper was meant to be an earring. It was so crudely made that it was far from obvious, Vivica's enthusiasm for handiwork had often outstripped the simple resources she had available. The earring was covered in her blood still, and who knew where she'd found it? It would almost certainly cause an infection if he actually wore it. At the very least he should wash it, maybe he could find some kind of case to keep it in, as a reminder. Numb fingers picked the bloodied piece of metal from his lap, and with a smooth motion, faster than any other time he'd moved since the hospital, he felt the dull pain of metal piercing skin. @ZincAboutIt