Rushu42

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512 King's Wit

About Rushu42

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  • Birthday January 15

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    Female
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    The Twilight Zone
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    Reading, writing, D&D, amateur astronomy, Quizbowl, Anglo-Saxon History, and making self-referential lists.

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  1. Acacia strolled into the tavern. She was bored. Work had been slow lately, strangely so. Most of her colleagues were still on leave for the festival week, and there had been no communication from the Scholar's Guild in days. Usually that Guild woman stopped by every day to pick up the latest reports (Acacia enjoyed finding new ways to misfile her paperwork each time). Probably she and that fellow with the jewelry had just gotten distracted with some new research project; the pair of them could be practically oblivious to the passage of time when they got into something. Acacia tripped over a barstool and staggered, off-balance, a hand flailing through the air. Somehow her elbow found a bowl of peanuts and sent it clattering onto the floor, the nuts rolling haphazardly in every direction. Acacia regained her balance and chased after the bowl as it came to a stop beneath Vis's seat. She grabbed it, stepping on Vis's foot in the process, and collapsed triumphantly into the adjacent chair. Turning, she smiled brightly at the other patron. "What brings you to such a seedy establishment on such a lovely morning?" @Tani
  2. Aln watched Ben carefully, looking for any signs of change. Were his eyelids moving? Probably just blinking. Still, any movement was it good sign - it seemed to indicate that Ben was at least conscious within the bubble. Aln didn't want to think about what would happen if he were trapped in this state while unconscious. She looked around the room, considering her next move.
  3. The receptionist let a hint of quizzicality creep over her bored expression. "We don't really sell medical supplies here; you'd be best looking in a shop for that. Are you injured?"
  4. Aln's eyebrows raised. The time bubble didn't extend as far as his clothing, but it didn't seem to be localized to the surface of his skin, either; making contact with the edge of a speed bubble should have resulted in a number of disturbances, but instead she hadn't been affected at all. Could the bubble somehow be contained within him? She'd read a paper suggesting that sufficient cohesion of a Cognitive aspect could allow such an effect to occur, but seeing it in practice was an entirely different matter. Whatever the case, his savantism was clearly far more advanced than she had originally assumed. Leaving him in this state was doubtless very dangerous. Aln didn't have many options for reviving him, though. She could, she supposed, summon Pel as a Shardblade and stab him with it, which would likely provide enough of a shock to the system to get him to temporarily drop his bubble. With quick enough application of Progression, she might be able to pull it off without any lasting harm. It was an inordinately risky move, though, and one that was unlikely to win his favor, so she dismissed the idea. She hadn't enough time to run and get aluminum, either. A hospital of this size might have a chromium Misting on staff, but requesting their assistance would alert any watching DA agents of her presence. Aln leaned towards him slightly, listening for sounds of breathing. He was almost certainly moving too slowly to be aware of his surroundings, but there were enough anomalies in the situation that Aln only felt slightly foolish as she spoke. "Ben? Ben, if this message is reaching you in any way, listen: you need to stop flaring cadmium. You're currently doing potentially irreparable damage to your Spirit Web." That was probably futile, she told Pel, but possibly some part of his subconscious will register that message and at some point he'll awaken. Aside from that, I'm not sure what more we can do to help.
  5. Aln waited, perfectly still, beside the back door of the Hospital. She was good at holding herself motionless; as a child, she had practiced for hours in the garden beside the ardentia, sitting so unmoving that the skittish grass forgot her presence and unfurled around her. She had been even smaller then, and the tall grass had hidden her completely from searching eyes. Even many years later, the habit returned easily. Eventually, the door opened, and a tired looking man stepped out, wheeling a cart of black plastic bags. She slipped inside as it swung closed, trusting that Zaria would follow in her own time. The plain white corridor and harsh fluorescent lights did not afford her many shadows in which to conceal herself, so she dropped the camouflage, replacing it with a facsimile of the man she had just passed. The dumpster he was likely heading to was across the square, so she'd hopefully have time to get out of sight before he returned. Her heart pounded, adrenaline surging under the combined influence of stormlight and nerves. She forced herself into a measured, if somewhat hurried, walk, and rounded a corner. As she'd hoped, a desk sat at the junction, guarding a somewhat busier hallway, lined with patients' doors and harried staff. Behind the desk, an older Selish woman sat filling out reports, exchanging the occasional word with passerby. Pel, she sent to him, go see if you can read those papers. She should be keeping track of patient arrivals and maladies. He broadcast his agreement, and the little patch of light drifted from her pocket and slid along the floor. She watched him go for a moment, then turned her attention to the attendant, squinting in an attempt to make out the words she was exchanging with a nurse. "...113's still out," the nurse was saying. "Coma?" asked the Selish woman, reaching for a pen. The nurse shook his head. "Never seen anything-" A pair of doctors walked past, obscuring her view. When they were gone, the Selish woman was talking again. "...Alleyverse, what do you expect?" The nurse chuckled. "That's the truth." The two exchanged a few more pleasantries, then the nurse walked off to check on another patient. No one appeared to have noticed her yet, so she twisted to look down the hallway in the other direction. There were more people, walking back and forth, their conversations swirling around their heads like personal thunderclouds. Are hospitals normally this busy? Aln hadn't had much experience with those modelled on the Earth system, and it was a far cry from the clinics of her homeland, or even from the famed hospitals of Kharbranth. If there were Dark Alley agents monitoring the building, they'd have no difficulty concealing themselves amidst the bustle of bureaucracy. Not for the first time, Aln wished for the powers of A-Bronze or the ability to peer into the Cognitive Realm, some way to detect out-of-place Investiture. "I'm back." Pel spoke quietly into her mind, but Aln couldn't prevent herself from jumping slightly. I'm not very good at espionage, am I? "You are not," Pel agreed. Have you found anything? "I have discovered the location of the Cognitive Ward; it lies to the south. I have also discovered that 11 new people have been admitted to the Cognitive Ward over the past week, and 8 of those were reported to be suffering from nightmares, hallucinations, or memory loss." Aln felt a surge of excitement. That'll be what we're looking for, then. She exhaled another breath of stormlight, transforming her clothing into the same white lab coat and trousers that she'd seen the doctors wearing. After a moment's thought, she conjured another illusion, of a mobile phone, and held it to her face. She then stepped out of hiding and strode purposely down the southern hallway, talking to herself in Alethi and nodding occasionally to people she passed. At each step she expected someone to stop her, to call out that they didn't recognize her, but no one did. As she walked, heart pounding, a room number caught her eye. 113, the same that the nurse had mentioned. She made a quick decision and turned into it, knowing that hesitation would only raise suspicion. The room was thankfully empty of orderlies, and she looked quickly toward the bed, wondering what had been strange enough to remark upon. Her eyes widened. Is that Ben? The festival seemed like months ago, with everything that had happened in between, but really it had only been a few days since she had met the young Cadmium savant. How had he ended up in the hospital? She took a step forward. He was asleep - no, not asleep; there was no sign of breathing. He's in a time bubble, she realized quickly, an incredibly slow one. And he's managed to localize it entirely within himself, rather than affecting the sphere in his immediate vicinity. Incredible. From there, though, she wasn't sure what to do. She didn't feel right just leaving him in this state, but she hadn't brought any equipment capable of dispelling allomancy. She wasn't sure what would happen if she touched him - would she be included in the time distortion? None of the phenomena usually present at the border of a bubble seemed apparent, but with nothing but her two eyes it was difficult to be positive. It wasn't as if she had many options, though. Keep an eye out, she said to Pel, then hesitantly reached out a hand and touched Ben on the shoulder. @Ashbringer
  6. Aln waited for several tense moments as the other group left, then gestured for Zaria to stand near. She took a deep breath of light, allowing the surging storm to reinvigorate her, then carefully began to breathe it out into a Lightweaving. It was a complex illusion, one that she'd only pulled off a few times before, but she was pleased to discover that it came somewhat easier, this time. Remind me to make a note of what else changed after the 3rd Oath, she thought to Pel as she worked. Eventually, the stream of stormlight ceased, and Aln took in her handiwork. It wasn't true invisibility, of course; that was incredibly difficult to manage, if not impossible. Nevertheless, the shifting cloak of illusion was a sophisticated enough camouflage that it should satisfy casual observers, provided they stick to the shadows. "Try to stay near walls and corners," Aln said to Zaria. "I should be able to maintain this for long enough to get us into the building, at least." So saying, Aln slipped from their street corner and began her slow creep towards the back entrance of the Hospital. @Random Bystander
  7. Well, that's an issue. There're in charge of running your game, so if you have questions they'd be the person to ask. I'd recommend trying to get their email or something as soon as you can.
  8. If it's not a mechanical thing, then it's just a character choice and it should be fine? If you're concerned ask your DM.
  9. Hey everyone! So, I couldn't help but notice that the Alleyverse isn't super active right now. In particular, the people who were going to be running the main plot of the Era haven't really been around. @MacThorstenson and I may have an idea to essentially commandeer the running this plot and move it to a conclusion, in the hopes of keeping the RP going. Would there be any thoughts/objections to us doing so? In particular, if any of the people who were previously writing the main plot see this and want to let us know what they were planning, that would be welcome.
  10. I don't think this RP is still happening, sorry. Often if a thread hasn't been posted in for a while, that means it's dead, and reviving dead threads is generally frowned upon.
  11. Aln shook her head at herself. "I'm sorry, Folorian, I forgot. We'll follow in a moment; it might be better to stagger our arrivals, anyway." She looked at her friend for a moment, suddenly aware of the risk he was taking on the basis of her theory. "Good luck. I don't know how dangerous this might be, but... just try to stay safe." Aln looked back at the spren so she didn't have to watch the other group leave. "You'll probably be best suited accompanying us. Depending on the strength of your bond, physical proximity to one another may be a requirement to avoid Cognitive drift. If you're worried about being harmed, you need not; few things can directly damage a spren." @Random Bystander @Ashbringer