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ZincAboutIt last won the day on September 3 2019

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About ZincAboutIt

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    Life is short, spike dessert first.
  • Birthday 01/25/1992

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    Washington, USA
  • Interests
    Writing, petting dogs, hemalurgy, drinking warm drinks, picking flowers, blood sorcery, fuzzy scarves, tea, making book playlists, eating cucumbers, skipping, salt and vinegar chips, wordplay

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  1. Lita kept her expression relaxed, still smiling, but allowed herself to tilt her head and observe Laurelai. She was smart - quite smart, though that wasn't all too rare in a city this large and cosmopolitan. She was ambitious too, Lita could see it in her eyes, in the slightly hungry way she leaned towards her looking for that secret which Lita was beginning to dangle before her. It had been a while since they'd taken on anyone at the DoCI - in fact, Lita might have been the most recent recruit, at least into the inner echelons of the organization. We already considered her father. Clearly the family is talented. Lita mused, taking a measured sip of her port. She had nearly finished it, and was debating a second glass, when she reached into a pocket for her Alleycant pen. Lita drew it out, along with a small notepad, and was halfway through a transmission to Mac before she realized what she was doing. He's gone, Lita, she told herself, feeling her mouth slip into a small line. She was the Department Head now. It was up to her to evaluate Laurelai. This is what you wanted, she told herself, setting down the pen. Power, influence. All the strings in her hands now. All the cards in her deck. "Truths and superstition," Lita said, looking back at Laurelai and smiling again. A colder, sharper smile this time. "Elusive things to chase. More often than not, they have a way of finding you instead, do they not?"
  2. I’m not sure why the DA would need to buy spikes as they are more than capable of making their own - indeed likely more capable than anyone who isn’t part of the guild. Also, someone wanting to sell spikes to the DA would be like someone from our society wanting to sell something to the cabal of lizard humans secretly running our world. It would make someone sound pretty crazy to openly look for them. More than likely you’d need to have someone from the DA reach out to your character instead.
  3. Kit smiled. "I've worked in lots of taverns, on and off. Never had a full-time job, but I helped out a lot down in Alleyharbor. Took over the bar for a whole summer at The High Tide when the innkeeper's wife had her baby." She watched the woman interact with her few customers, thinking. "If you'd want help housekeeping, I'd be willing, though I'd prefer room and board here if I'd be expected at all hours."
  4. Kit wended her way down a side street, brushing past a group of teenagers heading in the opposite direction. Their bright, cheaply-made costumes flashed in the low light, and they giggled amongst themselves, surreptitiously passing a little bottle of something between them. They looked somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen, about four years younger than Kit herself. One of the taller, braver boys in the group gave her a wink as he passed; Kit humored him with a giggle, then continued on. She had been told on more than one occasion that she looked like a barmaid. Kit imagined that it could have bothered her, if it weren't so true. A riot of bouncy golden curls spilled down her shoulders, framing lightly-freckled apple cheeks that were often rounded with a smile. Her eyes were blue shot through with green, upturned slightly at the corners thanks to someone in her family that was probably Rosharan. Kit wasn't sure; her mother hadn't had much discretion in her personal life, and Kit's father was a mystery. No one really cared about her mother's penchant for lovers, though. They just cared about the oysters that she brought up from the Alleyharbor. They had been the best in the city, and Kit had always assumed that she'd inherit the trade from her mother one day. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case. Illness and unforeseen debts had buried her mother and Kit's expectations alike. Now, she was on her own, and it was up to her to find a new life for herself. Which was why she found herself walking up to a cozy-looking brownstone building on Festival night, instead of sharing a bottle of cheap rum with Jarem, the grocer's oldest son. Kit idly wondered if Jarem would wait for her, or if he'd find someone else to share the night with. She stood for a moment on the step, then decided that it didn't matter. It was time to put her looks to good use. She pushed open the door, and walked in. The front room of Mac's Boarding House was homey and pleasant, the sort of place that immediately felt familiar, that beckoned a person to sit down, order a drink, and stay a while. Something was cooking in the back, a meaty, hearty smell that might have been stew or a roast, and one other customer hung about in the entry. Kit moved past them, stepping up to the bar and rapping her knuckles on the warmly-colored wood. "Word is you're looking for hired help," she called into the back. "Is that still the case?" @Sorana
  5. More than happy to help you run with that idea @Sorana
  6. "Sareshe is indeed worth her weight in gold," Lita conceded, an approving smile touching the corners of her mouth. This woman knew what she was about, hiring a real seamstress for the Festival instead of buying a costume off the rack for cheap. And fashion advice from an Elantrian? Immortals of all stripes had notoriously expensive taste. The young woman didn't strike Lita as fabulously wealthy, though she was clearly familiar with and comfortable in luxury. A comfortable living, then, with purchases such as that dress reserved for a special occasion. "But if we're sharing trade secrets then I have to ask for one in return." The woman said, eyes fixed on Lita's headdress. "That's a lovely piece, it can be difficult to find someone who can pull off the necessary blend of boldness and subtlety at this time of year." "Indeed it can," Lita answered, reaching a finger up to lightly brush one of the bronze spokes. "I did some business with a Rosharan Lighteyes a year or so back; he owed me a favor. Got in touch with an artifabrian down in the Rosharan quarter. It's soulcast - a single piece of bronze, if you'll believe it. Heavy as hell, to tell it true, but sometimes these sacrifices must be made." A lie, though a plausible one. It was soulcast, though she'd had one of the more artistic R&D members dream it up, not an artifabrian. The payment had been... memorable. Lita forced down a little shudder when she recalled how 'artistic' he had been with the elderly vagrant she'd procured for his experimentation. She took another sip of port, ridding her mouth of the taste of that memory. "Oh, and I'm Laurelai," the woman said after a moment. "Laurelai Esserethel." Esserethel. The name sounded somewhat familiar, and Lita immediately began flicking through one of her Copperminds to see if she had anything on that name. It wasn't nearly as thorough as her records back in the DoCI, but she always made a point of keeping a rudimentary index with her at any time. "A pleasure," Lita said, taking another small sip from her glass as she finally came across the name. Esserethel, the professor. He'd actually been considered for recruitment at one time, apparently - that was before she'd taken over the Department. Lita wasn't sure what had caused them to drop him as a potential addition. Morals, probably, she thought. "I'm Lita." No last name; Laurelai would surely notice, if she was halfway as clever as Lita guessed. The woman's hand darted up towards her neckline for a moment as if to grab something before flitting to the side. An unconscious movement, but a conscious diversion. Lita caught the tiniest glimpse of a slender cord beneath the neckline of Laurelai's dress. It was wholly unsuited to her outfit - something worn always, then. A sentimental token, most likely. "So, how long did it take you to Forge your hair black?" Lita said, taking a calculated risk. She couldn't be completely sure, but she'd have put decent money on Laurelai being a Forger. The Arelish tailor, the generally Sellish appearance, the watchful, calculating gaze. With any luck, it would startle Laurelai enough to cause her to fiddle with whatever she had around her neck, unconscious need for comfort overcoming her natural wariness. Lita smiled, allowing a flash of white teeth.
  7. Alright, well we should start encouraging people to go to them then, and encouraging the people running the thread to make sure to keep up with them, or ask for help if they can't. I've seen people continuously asking how they can introduce new characters, so clearly we need a more hospitable environment to place them than in the middle of an ongoing plot.
  8. Technically they are in Era 5, but no one has been around to maintain them. What I really care about here is giving new members a soft place to stage/introduce their new characters, learn about the world, find a plot line, etc. In addition to giving established members a place to meet. I don't care about making something new if the older threads will actually be maintained. I'd be willing to help with this because this is important to me
  9. Hi all! We’ve yet to get an Era 5 tavern thread up and running. I’d be willing to make and maintain a thread of this nature for anyone who wants to introduce characters, have a meeting place, or something else. Would people be interested in this?
  10. In this Era there’s at least one secret guild that could work against this group if you want. Also, technically this era can be re-written as needed so all the guilds could topple and be re-formed after the timeline is righted in Era 6. Also it’s rather ironic that an anarchist is creating a corporation
  11. Lita set down her glass and ran her finger around the rim, giving a rueful little laugh. "I'll admit that Fritz has me trained well enough that I order this of my own volition now. I'm afraid nothing else tastes quite good enough anymore. But, isn't that the way of it?" She looked back up at the other woman, meeting her eyes. They were a light, crystalline blue, like two faceted shards of glacial ice. For a moment, Lita thought she could see a luminous glow reflecting out of those eyes, like light thrown off of water. Water, pouring in a single, unbroken stream into a silent pool. She smelled the damp chalkiness of wet stone, felt the pull of... something. Lita blinked, the odd feeling fading as quickly as it came. The smile hadn't quite left her lips yet, and she pulled her momentary confusion backwards into a small corner of her mind, siphoning that strange vision into a coppermind for later perusal. She turned the smile into a little grin. Pull yourself together, Lita, she thought, lifting the glass to her lips and taking another sip of port. The rich, juicy taste brought her more fully into reality, and a little flare of Tin did the rest. "Once you taste the best this world has to offer, you think you'll be satisfied," she mused, lifting the glass so that the deep red liquid caught the light of one of the hanging lanterns. "But it only leaves you hungry for more." Lita set down her glass, then nudged the chair opposite her out from beneath the little table with one foot. She tapped one laquered fingernail on the tabletop and then spread her hand, indicating that the woman was welcome to join her. "It's a terrible shame to drink such fine port alone, don't you think? Perhaps you can tell me where you got that most excellent dress."
  12. Lita slid her pen back into her sleeve when the young woman entered the Windlass, noticing her slight confusion at the odd - if pleasing - interior design. A new customer, then. She wasn't surprised. On a night like tonight, people were apt to wander far afield of their typical haunts, driven by a desire to explore - or perhaps just driven by a desire for alcohol. Either way, this was an excellent night for observing new faces. The young woman in question cut a striking image, with her red dress and all that dark hair contrasting with her pale skin. Lita allowed herself a clear look while her back was turned, head bent towards two bottles of wine. Definitely not natural black hair, Lita decided, turning back to her own glass of port and swirling the liquid around in a lazy circle. She'd have called it a lazy disguise on any other night, but this was the Festival of Rebirth. Pretty much any disguise would be incapable of standing up to intense scrutiny. After all, it was a party, not a deep cover mission. Lita stoked her light burn of Tin to catch the last bits of the woman's conversation, mouth quirking a bit when Fritz got her to fork over the chrysts for a glass of Elariel Estate. The woman moved closer to Lita, perching on a stool just a few feet away and eyeing the crowd in the bar with a look that Lita found familiar. She wasn't just looking, she was watching. For the second time this evening, Lita found herself uncharacteristically fascinated. Well, no point doubting my intuition now. "Fritz is shameless, isn't he?" Lita said, voice quiet but amused, taking a sip from her glass but not yet looking at the woman. "You're the fourth person he's tempted with that Elariel Estate - it's the dress I'm afraid. You look like you can afford it. To his credit though," she finally looked up, raising her glass to the light and looking at the young woman before taking a sip, "it is delicious."
  13. @Sorana In case this sneaks past! ^^
  14. In the future, make sure to tag a mod with your proposed character so the request doesn't get lost! @Sorana @Voidus