I think I am here.

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Everything posted by I think I am here.

  1. Everyone around Reval paused, their gaits as if playing in slo-motion, and suddenly everything was normal again, and Vivi next to him, ready to fight, and the man far too close to drawing his gun than Reval would’ve liked, especially when his sister was near. As skilled as she was with a rapier, this man - cultist, he gave off the wrong feeling. Like a caged animal, waiting for an excuse to let loose. Reval shifted his feet and placed a foot behind him defensively. He tried to surpass the faint worry something bad could happen, tried to block out the ambient celebrations, took a moment to look at the situation as if he was a hawk, sailing far above the bright stalls and flourishing markets, analysing with cold, impartial logic. The man reeked of battle experience, from his little scars to his obviously large gun. But what irritated Reval most was the bandolier, a wide array of Allomantic vials displayed boldly, arrogantly. The glasses betrayed some problem with sight, and the guns seemed to suggest close-quarters would be the ideal way to fight, if to fight at all. Turning his body and gently gliding a hand behind his side, he located his long dagger, so carefully hidden in its sheath. And not two inches below that, the painrial knife. “Everyone says that,” he said to the man instead of committing to an attack. Too many variables to do anything flawlessly. Too many people, too many parts of the environment he wasn’t familiar with, and too little he knew about the man. A little more information on his opponent wouldn’t hurt before jumping into things. “Everyone says ‘all will be well’, as long we worship their deity. The Almighty, The Lonely God, your... Isarok. But it’s all just empty words and no truth.”
  2. “A few of them,” Reval said distractedly, treading through the main square, the crowd still dense with masked celebrators, but thinning with every step away from the centre of the celebrations. He made sure to keep an eye on his sister. Hopefully she heard where the meeting point was if she got lost - but Reval doubted it. He was always the one to remember everything, keep track of times and rules and homework and who’s turn it was to water the plants and everything else. And that made sense. He was the oldest, so he had to. He turned to her. In any normal setting, her bright costume would be easily visible. But this was the Day of Rebirth (!), and so everyone was exactly as eye-catching as everyone else, and no one really stood out, except for the people out of a costume. And they were the ones who deserved to stand out. If you weren’t wearing a costume, then what were you doing here? “But only for a while. Then, we’ll go out and explore what else we can do.” As they walked, his eyes left Vivi and rested on numerous masked street performers, a hat or empty guitar case in front of them, money resting inside. They danced and they did little tricks, lightweaving an illusion or using Feruchemical steel to juggle superhuman levels of bowling pins. As he walked past, Reval could feel their prying eyes on him, their fake smiles and parlour tricks begging for his money. It wouldn’t be surprising if they had a Soother or two among the crowd, to ‘help’ with the donations. He stayed close to Vivi and when he passed a beggar who was simply playing on a broken ukulele, who was hopelessly outcompeted by the other buskers with Investiture, Reval leaned forward and dropped a few chrysts. Non-invested already made up a disproportionate amount of the homeless, not fair for Invested people to beat them at busking, too. Not fair, but the truth. As he walked, Reval spotted a man moving through the crowd, yelling about heresy or heathens or some other religious thing. He nudged Vivi and nodded towards the man. “Fail school and you’ll end up like him,” he joked. “Crazy and trying to recruit people into a cult, while calling them heretics at the same time.” ——- Max watched Reval and Vivacia leave, waving and standing still until they were out of sight and lost among the sea of symbolic masks and mythological characters. He smiled warmly, clasping his hands behind his back. Althea would be pleased. He’d allowed Reval a little independence, had allowed Vivi to have some fun with her older brother. And he knew that as long as they were together, Reval wouldn’t try going anywhere too dangerous. Which gave Max some calm. Still, he wouldn’t have minded someone watch over them, just in case. But while Sethramir could do many things, he wasn’t a spren like Brashen was, couldn’t remotely observe the two kids. So Max would have to trust them. And if anything went wrong... no. Nothing would happen. Max needed to keep that paranoia in check. A cheer caught his attention and he glanced to the side, seeing a stall selling Scadrian whiskey. He smiled. Yes, keep that paranoia in check, and have a little fun of his own.
  3. “Deal.” Reval shook her hand and wondered how his sister felt, thinking he’d actually make her do all of his chores. Knowing her, she’d probably try her best to actually keep her word. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Vivi was unpredictable, even to Reval, who prided himself in being able to win board games by trying to calculate statistics with the dice. But he hadn’t played a board game in a while. Too busy with schoolwork and research and everything else. “Spoken like a true businesswoman” he said, drawing his gaze back to Vivi and smiling. Idly, he rubbed the hand he shook with over his trousers, trying to remove that slightly sticky feeling, and he glanced up at his father. “We’ll keep safe.” He assured him and began walking a little backwards, bringing an arm up and sliding the smooth, black, Lonely God mask over his face, obscuring his features and tinting everything in a bluish-grey tone to him. He looked to Vivi and jerked a thumb over his shoulder for them to go. “We should be going. I think they’re going to fire another batch of fireworks soon.”
  4. Reval looked from his sister to his father to his sister again, hoping in the slightest for some event or word or situation where his father would actually need Vivi to come with him and Reval could leave alone. But there was no such event, and he knew he’d feel guilty about it later if he rejected Vivi straight off the bat, because no matter how annoying she sometimes was, she was genuine and real and that was more than he could say about anyone else. Already making up his mind, he toyed with his little sister a bit, placing a hand on his chin, pretending to be in deep thought when she offered him the cotton candy. He made a few ‘hmms’ and ‘huhs’ for dramatics and stretched out the thinking as long as he realistically could, before smiling and leaning down a bit so he was almost at Vivi’s height. “I’ll let you come with me,” he said, grinning. “And you can keep your cotton candy. If you promise to do all my chores for a week.” He stopped, gave her time to deliberate. It was an empty dilemma, even if she said yes he wouldn’t have her do all of his chores, just maybe one or two extra. She was far too short for some things and according to Reval, only he could wash the dishes exactly right. But he still found a little entertainment in knowing the childish turmoil his sister would now face in making a choice. ——— Max was too caught up in the moment of Vivacia getting cotton candy on her face and laughing to pay attention to anything else. He wished he’d had a video camera or something to record it for Althea, it was amazing and it suffused him with warmth to hear her happy and laughing. He held onto that moment for a while. One day, Vivacia would be an adult and have her own life and all he’d have would be these memories, but he pushed that thought back. He was here, now. In the present. And in the present, his daughter was a cute little kid who laughed at getting cotton candy on her face.
  5. Max looked down when he felt a small hand grab at his, grinned when saw Vivacia peering back up at him through a golden mask. Though the night was loud and bright and it sent every part of Max into defensive-mode, the face of sheer excitement he saw on his daughter’s face more than made up for it. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he could do his part to make the festival best he could for the ones he cared about. “You heard the girl. A stick of cotton candy. Actually get one for me too.” He looked down and widened his eyes mischievously at Vivacia for a second. “We can have matching sweets. Reval, you want one too?” Max looked to his other side, where the boy was looking up and down a sign while the store worker got busy making the cotton candy. “No, I’ll have... a bar of chocolate,” Reval said, and smiled on earnest when Max nodded. “Chocolate it is,” Max said, and placed a few chrysts on the countertop. The storekeeper snatched them up greedily and stretched out two sticks of cotton candy and one bar of chocolate. Max took the two sticks and handed one to Vivacia, allowing Reval to grab the bar. “Um, I might leave soon,” Reval said after a moment, and looked around, then at Max. “To meet up with friends, you know. I’ll be back soon. An hour or two. No dark alleys, I promise.” Max nodded absentmindedly. Did Reval think he could fool him? If the kid wanted to go out alone, have some time exploring the festival without his father watching over him - he only had to ask. Didn’t need this excuse about ‘friends‘ and meeting them. Internally, Max sighed, and showing none of his tiredness he looked down at his side with a smile, taking a bite of his cotton candy. Very sweet, but sort of nice. Definitely high quality. “Vivi, what do you say? You want to go with Reval or stay with me? I’m probably just going to stay in this little area, buying things and maybe meeting up with some other adults.”
  6. As the celebrations of the night began to sound off in earnest, golden fireworks and resounding cheers competing over each other for sound, Max walked the streets. “We’re going to stay around the main festival area. I don’t want you or Vivacia going anywhere outside of the lamplight. Especially not in any alleys. Clear?” Reval, beside him, nodded solemnly. Max softened his gaze and smiled. “Hey, the costume looks good.” “Thanks,” Reval said, and quirked a grin. The teenager wore the classic Lonely God costume, the smooth, black mask tilting up to reveal his features. Elaborate, a stark contrast to Max’s own simple red masks and patterned scarf. “Yours too.” “Ha ha. But the point still stands. If you or Vivacia get lost, we’ll meet over there, by the swords salesman. He seems unique enough to remember.” “Got it.” Max nodded and looked back to in front of him, unable to suppress the slight paranoia tugging at his mind. There was something different about the annual festival nowadays, now that he was a parent, with responsibilities. Now, every masked person wasn’t a crazy character, they were just a reminder that anything could happen out here, in total anonymity. Loud sounds, bright lights, and massive, masked crowds. If there was ever a perfect time of the year for crimes to take place, it was right now. A man could disappear on a night like this and never return. Indeed, Max was sure more than a couple of his associates would be working tonight, getting assigned targets through hushed meetings in half-lit alleyways from whatever leadership operated the mysterious Ghostbloods. Max wasn’t high enough in the hierarchy to know things like that, and he hadn’t really sought out promotions since Reval and Vivacia. He smiled, stopping at a small shop, looking to Reval. “Want anything to eat?”
  7. wedding

    Nowhere to go. Lusk stared at the snack table, hovering his eyes over the white polka-dot pattern of the tablecloth. He moved his hands behind his back, didn’t nod or grunt in understanding when she spoke, but listened all the same. I don’t think I’m going anywhere. A thought that he’d encountered once, too, in all his years. If he wanted to, he wagered, he could de-age precisely back to when he’d felt like that, but he didn’t feel the inclination right now. When she stopped, he glanced at her and crossed his arms. Behind her, more and more people were leaving the party, the bride and groom probably already long gone. “There’s not really a ‘point’ to life, when you think of it,” Lusk said distantly, and darted his eyes to her immediately. “That’s not nihilism. But the truth is that we don’t come with a list of directions stamped onto us when we’re born. We have no inherent purpose, no magical reason we were brought into this world, and certainly no ‘destiny’, as some would have you believe.” His gaze softened and he uncrossed his arms. “We’re brought up in a world where the heroes defeat the dragons, where all around us is a buzz of activity, a hub of different people all wrapped up in their own conflicts and situations of epic proportions. It’s easy to think that’s the meaning of life, there. That everyone has to be the young underdog who beat the big bad wolf, or the resourceful scholar who cracked an impossible code. “The ‘point’ to life is to be,” Lusk said, and by now it seemed like the young Ferring wasn’t even there, that he wasn’t speaking to a kid in an emptying wedding hall but that he was talking to himself. All of himself. From the scared child to the stuttering teen to the grief-stricken failure, to the temperamental warrior who knew no peace in his soul. All of the different Lusks, the fractured aspects that made the man who stood now. All striving to find their places in this sprawling universe. “It’s to live, to make goals to entertain yourself, to occupy yourself with something you like and not care about anything else. Maybe you want to escape your home planet. Maybe you want to be popular, or want to get fit, or want to kill your father, get promoted, form a heritage of atium Ferrings, start a farm, or whatever.“ At this, he turned to the young Ferring. The young Ferring, with so much of her life ahead of her. He clasped a hand on her shoulder. “You say you’re not going anywhere. But don’t have to go somewhere. You don’t have to go... well, anywhere! You don’t have to have a plan, a massive mission to save the universe, or run a guild, or anything. All you have to do is live. All you have to do is exist, and maybe, just maybe, if you want, you can find something you like, and do that. And storm the ardents who say you need to ‘do something’ with your life, because the only person who matters in your life, is you. Freedom. And nothing can change that.” He opened his mouth to say more, but coughed instead and crossed his arms again, his face frowning again and his age returning to normal. What he’d said was enough for the young Ferring, hopefully. Nothing more needed to be lectured to her. He looked around the hall. “Meanwhile, this party seems to be coming to a close. Looks like the fun part‘s over, and some people are dimming the lights, over there. I guess that’s our cue to leave, huh?”
  8. I’ve got a character that doesn’t like large events. I could have him meet Tyrian in a tavern. Beware, he might have a demon spiked into his soul, though.
  9. Sure! With scholarship, the index lists ‘analysis’ as an option, and I’m not really sure what that entails, but I’ll pick that one since I don’t have a specific field of study in mind. With handiwork, I’d say a specialisation in fabrials (and on that note, I’ll add a painrial as a weapon he has). @Sorana
  10. Era 5 Characters Alask, Max and Wes have the same abilities and weaknesses as before, just personality and backstory changes to fit into Era 5 (as well as changes to the Forge, which are in Alask’s bio and I’ll add it to the Forge thread as well). If one of you could take a look at Reval, that would be great . @Sorana @Voidus Max: Alask: Wes: Reval:
  11. Looks good! I’ll add it to the list
  12. Nnimm @SingingMosaic Hello! So, the original character sheet was 125 points. From what it seems, the only thing accounted for are the average knife-throwing skills (which are 45 points) and the weaknesses of being more magically sensitive than normal and not blending well with their alternate singer forms (for which I deducted 10 points, since singer forms are a large part about what it means to be a singer). That still leaves Nnimm with being 10 points over the limit. I admit, I’d like a little more detail on the ‘magically sensitive’ part to see how much to deduct for that weakness. Maybe then Nnimm would be within point limits. I always like it when people have non-human characters. :). Crow Johnson @Ark1002 I like the character! 30 (skilled scholarship) + 15 (average handiwork) + 20 (pulp soulcaster) = 65 I’ll add it to the list Liam @Shard of Reading Hi :). With the steel compounding (140) and Shardblade (30) that gives him a total of 170, just 20 points above the limit. I like the weaknesses you’ve placed on him, but I think a little more would help balance him out, specifically regarding combat, which might be a little unbalanced with super-speed and a Shardblade. And don’t worry about him being contradictory – interesting characters are always awesome to RP with! Byron @Ashbringer Ooh, a cadmium savant. Very awesome indeed :D. I particularly like the creative weaknesses. I’ll add it to the list. Silas @bees? Amberite Aether (50) + Night Aether (55) = 95. You also mentioned incredible combat prowess with his aethers which I accounted for, but with his weaknesses, he’s well within point limits. And a very nice theme song indeed. :). Approved. Nuemark @Elend Venture Approved. A 4th Ideal Radiant is a lot, but “too trusting” is a huge weakness when you’re in the Alleyverse, I’d say :). His devotion to the rules and sticking to the Ghostblood rules as well as his oath to seek out oathbreakers to kill also detract from the points (like what if one of his friends break an oath? Ooh). Approved. I also really like the little habits you’ve put in his Backstory section, like washing his hands after each fight. Really adds to the character.
  13. Says it all in the title. As a pilot on Detritus, what would your callsign be? Think of whatever awesome names you’d want to be known as!
  14. Rob waved to Aya, watching her leave the house. She’d fit in well with the rest of the Radiants. Maybe she’d be more comfortable next time if there was someone other than Rob to greet her. But that was besides the point. Drifting his eyes from the door, he found them resting on the small cat that lay where Ayalin had placed it, sitting and observing the house. Taking a measured look around to make sure no one could see him, Rob quietly shuffled over to the cat and picked it up. It mewed and he held it up, then close to him. It was even softer than it looked, and he thought about sneaking in a smile, but decided against it, content with the warmth in his heart for now. He pet the cat and walked up the stairs to his room, hoping no one would see him. “You’re a good cat, aren’t you? Yes, you’re a good cat...” he whispered, taking the cat into his room and shutting the door.
  15. horror

    Lusk watched as the wedding slowed, most of the major events already done. Now, it would just be small talk between everyone, which didn’t interest Lusk. But it wasn’t like he’d come for the people at this wedding. He’d come for the wedding, the food, and maybe another meeting with the young Atium Ferring he had the pleasure of training. He glanced back at her and took in her words about weapons, storing some atium. He had so much feruchemical charge built up in his atiumminds over the years he hardly needed to store to get more age, but for once the lines of old age that overcame his face were welcomed. As much as he used to dislike it, the old age made him calmer, more thoughtful. A little smarter, too, thanks to his body’s extrapolation of the extra years of experience. “Your life and mine are very different,” he said, then raised an eyebrow as if it was obvious. “You’re young, I’ve got a few years left to go. I can afford to be flippant with mine. And you should use your life while you’ve got it — believe me, if I train you only to have you die on me, I’ll bring you back alive just to yell at you.”
  16. “Sure,” Alask replied, crossing his arms. “Makes you think what else is out there, you know. Where they come from. Must be a hell of a place, for the amount of weapons they pack.” He turned to Eve, looking towards the teenage girl, though his instincts screamed for him to keep staring at the Marine. Despite the situation, he found himself cracking a grin. “Hey, maybe you should give the guy one of your pamphlets. I’m sure he’d love those.”
  17. Hello! This is a really good story. You wrote the dynamic between the main character and the vigilante really well, and I liked how the background between them was explained organically through the dialogue. I’ve just got a few small comments Other than that, I couldn’t find much else to critique. It’s really well written, so good job!
  18. “A battle?” Alask asked, his worries not going away but still keeping pace as Lena strolled towards a Marine. He cast a single glance at Eve, some sort of call for help, but it was too late and Lena addressed the Marine. Any moment now, the technological juggernaut would have his eyes on her, and then Alask, and then Eve. As Alask stared at the Marine, he found it hard to think of anything other than the colossal crater that now shaped AlleyCity, and what had caused it. Somewhere within his spikes, he could hear Shez growling. He took a single step back and crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the Marine but tilting his head towards Eve. “You ever seen one of these before?” He asked quietly to her. “No Investiture. Apparently all of their weaponare is strictly technological. Kind of crazy, when you think of it like that, huh?” @Silva
  19. “Not altered. Swapped,” I say with an intentional vagueness as I slip on my shirt, shoulder scar disappearing under a layer of black as I go through the usual movements. My gun lays rests holstered against my leg, my black coat settling over me like a shadow. I leave the too-clean white clothes by the floor in a half-heartedly folded manner, flicking my gaze to the figure that stands by the mirror, checking himself. A thought strikes me, and I pull out my revolver, and I hold it out, look at my own reflection on the cold, dirty steel. The reflection of my face distorts over the chrome barrel, and I stuff the piece back where it belongs. A slight itching of my fingers told me I needed another cigarette, and like I was a machine on autopilot, I had one lit and in my mouth before I could think once, let alone twice about it. I draw in a deep breath, and tilt my head back, exhaling thin wisps of smoke barley visible in the harsh medical light. “This body was never my own. And the one I was born in was never altered, either. Unless you count a bullet hole in the head as altered. Which, I guess I would, thinking about it.” I draw on the cigarette again, thoughtfully.
  20. horror

    “Any time works, as long as it’s not too early in the morning, or too late. There’ll usually always be someone here to welcome you here. Even if all of us are out at school or something else, there’ll be Doc.” He turned to Aya. He remembered a time where he’d been as nervous as her, alone in a confusing house, new to a confusing world of surges and power. He thought that at a moment like this, a comforting smile or a gentle voice would have helped make her feel less nervous, but Rob had none of those things. So he had to play to his strengths. “I’m sure it’s okay,” Rob said bluntly. “And I’m not someone to change my opinions, well, ever.”
  21. horror

    Mess with people’s emotions. Rob clenched his jaw, hardened his expressions. He wasn’t sure to what degree Aya could affect emotions, but he didn’t want to find out. She must have been like those others that had come into the house, with their varied abilities. Except... Aya seemed to have a lot of them. “A little more than a year and a half, now,” Rob said idly, his mind still on her powers. How many unknown powers were there in the world if it wasn’t limited to just surgebinding? A small part of him felt worried at that. A smaller, darker part felt threatened. The odd, dark, voidbringer sphere in his pocket, the one he’d almost forgot about, pulsed. He turned to Aya. “Have you sparred with someone in here, yet? If you enjoy combat, we’ve got plenty of space and training weapons, if you know how to use them.”
  22. Hi! So, I wrote a little sci-fi short story, under a few limitations such as it needing to have to a character arc in under 1500 words. Which was... tougher than I expected . Feel free to read and if you have feedback or any suggestions, I'd greatly appreciate it. Alright, enough rambling, here it is: Maya:
  23. Thanks a lot, Sorana! I wasn’t sure if all the emotion would be boring or a drag, so I’m glad you think it worked I’ll definitely retouch on in the character actions, I appreciate the feedback I appreciate the specific feedback, it’s not too literal at all. Thanks, Ene! You’re right with leaving in ‘around me’ as a transition. It definitely works better than cutting it out altogether, I think
  24. horror

    Family she’s staying with? So, not her real family? No use prying into personal matters, Rob thought, so he just nodded. When she laughed and offered him the cat he froze for a moment, suppressed the urge to say yes and pet the little cat, tried to hide his feelings underneath an impassive mask again. His father’s words were clear and resounding in his head: Emotion is weakness. “Oh, it’s not my cat,” Rob said. “It’s all of ours, I guess. I don’t overly like cats, anyway.”