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The Vigil (E6T2)


MacThorstenson

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This thread starts about a week after the end of the forgery, during a vigil put together by the city to honor those who died or were lost when the forgery stopped. 

Please make sure to start your post by listing where your character is, and which character you are writing for.

 

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Tena had been confused for the past week. Everyone she met was disoriented, trying to sort their life out after something had happened. The world had changed massively, supposedly Forged to make itself happier for all the people who lived on the Alleyplanet. That had gone wrong at some point, and she still wasn’t sure how. She was both glad that she had been on vacation at the time, and very upset that she didn’t understand what was going on around her.

Once she'd returned, it had taken her some time to find her house, which had been situated wrong on the cliff she’d had it built on. Instead of being built with most of the rooms sticking out above the canyon and close to the base, it was now most of the way up the cliff and sunken much further into the rock. She’d had to Steelpush to get up to the balcony, and she’d been half-convinced that she wouldn’t be able to Steelpush anymore after the months she’d spent on the ground. Her body felt light as wind after her pregnancy, but she knew her muscles had atrophied and she wouldn’t do herself any good working out excessively while her body was still hormonally unbalanced and recovering from her ordeal.

That ordeal, though… It had been worth it. The previous times, all she’d felt at the end had been grief and it had taken all she had to keep herself alive afterwards. She’d been fueled by irrational rage and deep sadness, she’d torn up everything around her while her mind tore itself up. This time was different. When the baby had been born, she had had a small, squealing face and hands that had tried to grab at Tena’s face and skin once she’d been washed. The child was alive and had her father’s violet eyes, beautiful eyes.

Something had tightened in Tena’s chest when the baby had been given to her. Alive, warm, whining. A vice snapped closed in her mind. This baby was hers, and she would care for her. A name had entered her mind in that moment, not one of those she’d been considering before the child’s birth. Idokai. She had offered it, and her husband had agreed.

Now, two months later, that protectiveness remained, but if Tena had to listen to any more crying, she was certain she’d go insane. Ani handled it much better than she did, thankfully, so she didn’t have to be around the child all the time. Not that she had the time for such indulgence anyway, apparently. She’d received a letter from her friend of many years, Althea, that made her the Ghostbloods’ new leader. Most of the others had fled immediately following the Forgery’s breaking, and now she was, once again, in charge. Not of many people, with how the Forgery had thinned her guild’s numbers, but in charge nonetheless.

She walked the Alleycity’s streets, passing by the wandering flows of people who were still remembering themselves. A surprising number of the people she walked by recognised her, even though the Alleycity had a population in the hundreds of thousands. She’d been here for a long time, she supposed, and she had been important, in some ways.

The city was quiet today, much quieter than usual. The government had decided to hold a vigil for the people who had been lost to the Forgery, whether by death or disappearance. She found herself standing at the base of the spire the Canton of Combat was mounted atop, looking up. She could Steelpush herself up there, if she wanted, but she didn’t need a stroll down memory lane, not now. What she needed was some time to think.

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Valeria - The old World, The Void, Alley City

 

Laughter, Music, Joyful conversation. These were sounds that had had not been heard in the tidy home of Valeria and Lucien in recent months.

Try as she had, Valeria feared that she had somehow failed to shield her little daughter from the dour and brooding moods of her father when they became more and more frequent. He had seemed at times a different man from the one she had met five years before. But, she supposed, this version of the man was all that the girl knew.

And now as she was wrist deep in warm, soapy water, with cream chiffon sleeves folded neatly to her elbows, she scrubbed the last stains from the night's dinnerware and the gentle peal of laughter came emanating from the dining room. It gave her some small hope that maybe it had been a blip after all, and took comfort in the knowledge that at least she could feel secure here, in this night.

It would be good for Lucien to hear their guests' stories again. See that she was doing better.

Their friend Laurelai had, after all improved much in the last couple of years as their families grew along side each other; despite what Voidus had done to her.

Poor woman.

 

 After she had been cast aside, she and Valeria had become closer than ever before. Their bellies swelled with their children and their time sharing excitement and planning had helped their homes slowly recover from that dreadfully strange, empty feeling that clung to them. Voidus had been a strange man, and an overbearing one. And it was no secret to any of them that it was better for Laurelai's son to be free from ever knowing him.

But still there was a sense of emptiness which always hung in the air at their dinners together, changed as they were from four to three. And so, to hear Lucien and her chatting and laughing was a comfort to Valeria, as she hoped that her husband might begin to forgive himself for introducing them to that man in the first place. That was, after all, around the time his moods had truly begun to turn sour. Though there was no doubt that he loved his family still, Valeria had grown tired of helping him.

Gently waking him from his desk after he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning; reminding him to go out and spend time with their daughter; even eating had become something that Lucien had failed to provide for himself more and more. In her professional opinion, he was clinically depressed.

But he could not be her client, and, Valeria thought to herself as she drained the sink and looked to the draw for a drying cloth, he would likely not talk to her about it anyway.

And there is was. That distance. The loneliness. Did he know about her magic? She didn't see how he could. She barely knew about her magic. But if it wasn't that, what was he hiding? 

 

With a start Valeria paused in her work at an abrupt bang and the resulting hushed voices emanating from the other room. Laurelai, Lucien, and then the addition of an out of breath man. 

She hurried with dishcloth in hand, only to stand dumbfounded under the partition archway and stare in disbelief at the tall man who faced them all down. Drenched in rain and with a determined gleam in his eye, Voidus had barrelled into the space and neglected to even close the front door behind him.

For a moment, or a minute, there was no sound but the confused question in the children's voices, and the thundering rain outside. Laurelai had not moved from her chair, and sat frozen, like a wounded animal too afraid to risk further harm as he stepped toward her with arms outreached. 

He uttered not a word, nor slowed in his place as he came toward her and just as Valeria found her voice to demand his departure, Laurelai and her darling boy were gone. 

 

The wooden chair was now as empty as the silence that followed, broken only by another chair clattering to the floor. And then the little stuffed lion that had been held only moments before by equally little chubby hands flopped to the ground beside their little Laurelai. 

Another moment passed, and Valeria's golden haired daughter was in her arms screaming. Or crying. It was hard to understand what was happening in that moment, but one thing above all others was clear. A dangerous man had come into her home and would not falter at murder. Her child, her baby needed to be protected.

Her dear, brilliant husband faced him now, inches from his face, and as the sweat drew on his brow over an invisible struggle and she raised her fingers to her daughter's hair it became clear that her secret and his were the same. The ancient magics had come to them both despite all odds, and now they both fought with understanding that only one thing mattered in the whole world. Their little Laurelai had to be saved.

Valeria could see very little through the black sphere that filled the whole room in a miasma of destruction but as it enveloped the two men, Lucien fought still. But it was not long before he dropped his head in defeat. 

Valeria faltered only a moment as she weaved her fingers around the curled ringlets, and let her will and hope and intent flow with what she knew could be the very last beats of her heart.

 

"Protect", woven first.

"My baby", came second, and then as she watched Lucien's form all but collapse on the disintegrating, cracked floor.

The interloper had vanished with the dark black cloud and she came to her husbands side and held the three together after weaving the final sigil; "Love". 

There was an absence of emotion in her voice now, too exhausted and stunned to cry; despite needing to scream to be heard over the world tearing apart while she spoke the last words she would ever speak in this world to her husband and child. 

"Her! You know what to do, we talked about this."

 

The dark magic that had filled their home moments before came again around Lucien's hand as he held it to Laurelai's forehead. 

"I'm sorry." He said to her in a wavering, soft voice, as his green eyes closed in defeat and relief as their girl faded away.

At least the loneliness will end. At least he will find an end to his burden, Valeria thought. 

She leaned over him to kiss his forehead. Her golden curls grazed his brow as she whispered the same words they vowed on their wedding day and had engraved on the silver hair clasp he gave as his promise gift.

"Simul in aeternum, numquam obliviscar."

 

If he heard her she did not know it, for in the moments between now and never, she had one last wish and held it to herself as she faded. 

"Focus. Find Her. For All Time. Everywhere."

...

 

A million years passed. Or five. She did not know. She could not, would not think of anything but her mission, and her search had proven infinitely harder for the distinct lack of anywhere to look. But on and on she drifted, or perhaps did not move at all, until she felt it. 

A rip, or rather, a tugging. And from it came the un mistakeable, irreplaceable feeling that she felt when the surgeons pulled Laurelai from her body years ago. 

And then, the scent, the warmth, and the essence that was her daughter called to her. Pulling her closer to a place and a time that she had never known before. Directionless seeking and searching became a fierce race to swim through the nothingness of her mind and the Void itself as it relented its hold on her and she could at last feel the exact place she needed to be. And there she railed and waited and threw her will against the non-space, hoping to be as the scalpel had been to her own uterus on that glorious day. But it was to no avail. Here she remained for all time and none, until it changed, and out from the darkness she fell onto a crowded road. 

...

Light. 

Noise.

People?

These were the order the completely foreign senses returned to her as she sat on the cobbled road, with passers-by hardly sparing her a sidewards glance. She stood and shook the dust from her dress, though the wind did much of that for her as the thin fabric billowed in the breeze. It was colder here than at home, the change made all the sharper for the millennia of pitiless oblivion to buffer the two. 

"Salve?" She asked to the throng, as one by one they shook their heads and walked on in an odd array of joy and despair. 

How Strange, she thought. To have the people of this strange place mirror my own heart so neatly.

She tried again. "Num quis me potest invenire filiam meam?"

No again. 

Alone again.

And so she walked. Her will felt renewed and firm where the liberating pull had ended. And though she could feel her baby no longer, she could feel family, or blood or the fingerprint of something familiar in the layout of the streets and the chaotic bustle of the crowd which clamoured along the streets around her.

 Laurelai had not met her end, nor had Valeria Eserethel. And so her search would continue.

 

 

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~Laurelai; Laurelai's apartment, the Alleys~

"This." Laurelai muttered as she looked at the choices laid out before her. "Is a difficult decision."

She had wondered once, if she were offered the same options that Lita had been that night in the Alleystorm, would Laurelai have chosen subtlety? Or power? Subtlety she thought. But now, on deeper reflection the problem revealed its nuance. Laurelai might not need to wield open power, might prefer a subtle approach over brute force. But a clever application of force could solve many problems, and if substantially cleverly applied would be no more noticeable than had she wielded subtlety.

But subtlety certainly did have its place as well. Subtle did not mean weak after all. Subtlety meant the application of just enough force as was necessary. Subtlety meant precision. Meant achieving exactly what you sought to achieve without any unintended consequences. Subtlety was a carefully worded letter, not to the person you were trying to influence but to their spouse, or their friend. Perhaps their tailor. It was a thousand carefully laid plans that came together perfectly.

So which, in the end would Laurelai choose?

"Oh it'll have to be power." She said, nodding with finality. "I'm always opting for demure and subtle, it's nice to be a little bold every once in a while."

The dress was certainly that. It had been in her wardrobe for months without being worn, not even counting during the Forgery. She wasn't even sure what had driven her to purchase the thing except that it was made from some of the most delightful silk chiffon that she'd ever touched, dyed a slightly dusty lavender and draped absolutely perfect every time she'd tried it on. It also exposed her shoulders and half of chest as well as a long slit that ran up to the upper thigh.

"Hmm..." She considered, holding the dress to herself and examining a mirror. "Maybe it should be subtlety after all."

Fifteen minutes later she was finally dressed in the lavender wonder, and had just finished her hair, Forging it into position over one shoulder and kept in place with a delicate silver hairpin. Giving herself another look in the mirror she had given a final satisfied nod when she noticed her eyes. Leaning closer until they took up most of her vision she tutted gently as she looked at the area of skin underneath. It was well concealed but Lita at least would have no difficulty spotting the discoloration, the bags that had formed from a lack of sleep. She gave a wave in the direction of the mirror, the gesture was entirely unnecessary but it did add something to the aesthetic, Laurelai thought.

A trickle of Invesiture accompanied the wave, and a moment later she looked as bright eyed and refreshed as if she had awoken from a ten hour rest. She felt it too, in fact, Forgery was lovely and versatile like that. It had allowed her to spend most of the last week without sleeping at all. Which was quite helpful. Too many things haunted her at night now, too many things that Laurelai Esserethel preferred not to think about. There was her father for a start. Voidus, the man who had created the Alleys. She had still not had time to actually speak with him beyond a few hurried and public conversations immediately after the Forgery. Second, there was the Chapel, its glowing blue waters seemed to lurk in every fountain, reflected in every mirror, haunting her, calling her. Finally, there was the topic that she had thought long since buried, but the presence of the other two nightmares in her life had prompted a recurrence of the third. Laurelai's own history.

~Laurelai; Alleycity, 20 years ago~

Her hands slid over the person who was lying in front of her. Something sticky covered them underneath the strange hardened clothes they were wearing. She had thought it was paint, but it didn't seem quite the same, and the smoke was too thick for her to tell the colour. She coughed, choking as that smoke entered her lungs again, stifling her call. She had repeated it over and over again, shaking the figure until the paint dried on them and her throat hurt. By now she knew it wasn't her mother, wasn't her father. It was a stranger. A sleeping stranger who never awoke no matter how much she shook them.

Voices finally reached her, the ringing sensation and loud screeching sounds from nearby had been pulled away by the wind and she could hear a voice. Calling. It didn't sound like her parents but still, Laurelai pulled herself upright, using the sleeping figure to balance and then wiping the paint off onto her dress. She stumbled in the direction of the voices, her thin weary voice calling out in response.

"Salve?" Laurelai called weakly. "Salve? Matrem? Estne tu?"

"It's another kid." The voice called, speaking strange words that she couldn't quite understand. "Gav, give us a hand looking would you? Need to take her to one of the safe buildings, half this neighborhood is aflame."

Two figures finally stumbled into view, they were both men, covered in ash, dust, splinters, and the same black-red paint that she had seen before. They looked tired, but then Laurelai was tired too. She was tired, sore and confused. And she just wanted to be taken back home so that she could rest.

"There you are." One of the men said, he crouched down and pulled the brown-haired fringe out of his eyes to look at her. "Come here. Are you alright?"

"Paenitet nescio" Laurelai replied, shaking her head.

She wasn't sure what they were saying. They didn't use big words, but it sounded like nonsense. On another day she might have laughed, but today she nearly cried instead.

"What's that, Arelish?" The other man said, stomping up in enormous leather boots that covered half of his legs. "Speak common girl."

"That's not Arelish." The man with the fringe said. "Don't know what that is. Might just be nonsense, she looks bloodied enough for a concussion or two. Might not even be old enough to speak."

Laurelai just shook her head again, not understanding their speech.

"Meum nomen est Laurelai?" She said, half a question. "Nostin' matrem meam?"

"Yeah think you're right. Concussed." Said the man with the boots. He bent down and offered her a hand, wrapping her tiny pale arm in his large warm grip, and suprisingly gently began to lead her. "Can you walk?"

She saw him make a walking motion as he spoke, it took a little while for her to understand but she nodded, copying the motion. It was a good thing that her vision had cleared up, she could see a little ways through the smoke now, and make out the colour of the paint on her hands. But a series of strange lines kept crossing her vision. Like stray hairs that had gotten caught in her eyes only glowing. They made it a little difficult to see, but not so bad that she couldn't follow two men that were this big. They were both almost as tall as her father, and he was almost impossible to lose.

She followed in their footsteps carefully, trying not to trip over the mess of wood and stone on the ground. It was even messier than her room was, and her mother was never happy when she forgot to clean that up. Someone should really tell these two men's mothers what they had left lying about the place so that they would have to clean it. Laurelai might tell them herself, but they didn't seem to understand her anymore than she did them.

She also wished the one holding her hand smelled nicer. He smelled like ash. And metal. And sweaty people. It wasn't very nice, it would have been so much nicer if this morning when he'd woken up he would have had a bath instead. Then he could smell nice. Like flowers. Almost as soon as the thought crossed Laurelai's mind the lines changed, moving about in front of her eyes and making her trip on something. The man with the boots caught her, holding her carefully as she got her footing back. And it was at that moment that she tried to irritatedly wave the lines away, shoo them out of her eye.

Something... warm enveloped her. Like a lovely bath. She felt it flow through, over, and out from her towards the man with the boots. For a moment he paused, head tilted to the side. She smelled... flowers? Soap? It was the same rose-scented soap that Laurelai remembered from home. She clapped her hands delightedly, hoping that maybe he could take her to the shop where he bought it. Laurelai knew the way home from the shops after all. But then that warmth returned, three times as strong and much less gentle.

The man in boots was engulfed in a column of fire, the heat searing the floral scent into her nose before replacing it moments later with a horrifying smell of matches, burned hair and charred flesh. She staggered back a step, staring in wide eyed confusion at the fire and then at the ashes that remained when it went out seconds afterwards. A quiet wind blew down the street, pulling the ash free from the large leather boots that remained.

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~Lita; The Alleys~

"One more time, now," Lita murmured to herself, setting the funnel back into the neck of the wine bottle and pouring the two glasses of wine back into its dark green belly.

She first wiped each glass, then the bottle, with a white cloth, setting the funnel aside. Then, with a small intake of breath, she picked up the bottle, careful to hold it from the base - never the neck - in one hand. She was burning tin, as always these days, but she increased the burn beyond its minor heat so as to watch every single detail as she poured a perfect, steady stream of deep claret wine into one of the glasses. Lita filled it right to the widest part, where the glass swelled outward, before lifting the bottle again. At the last moment, she moved her wrist in an expert quarter-turn, cutting off the stream and avoiding spilling a single drop. 

Lita wanted to smile, but she held herself back. Now, she had to do it again. She repeated the process, once again executing a pristine quarter-turn of the wrist, and set the bottle down. Two perfectly-poured glasses of wine. Finally, Lita allowed herself a proud quirk of the lips. Still have it down.

A woman such as herself had many odd skills, little talents that she had learned in her years listening at keyholes and chatting at parties. But this was an old skill, one she learned long before she had ever left Elendel. Before she had met Forian, even. The memory hit her suddenly, the smell of wood varnish in her father's back room filling her nostrils as she knelt on unsanded planks and practiced pouring wine for customers. She'd started with two hands, shaky and nervous with her father's dark bottles, even though she was only using spent ones filled with water. That had been when she was eight. By ten, she'd mastered pouring one-handed - largely due simply to expanded anatomy and the ability to grip the bottle in a single hand. Father's patrons thought it a novelty for such a wee thing to be so adept at wine service, and they never had to worry about her "stealin' sips like them other barmaids." Nevermind that Conrad Attar would never be so cruel as to serve his daughter the same watered down half-vinegar he gave his Soothing patrons.

Lita let out a soft sigh and picked up one of the perfect glasses of wine, giving it a sip. She hummed, pleased, at the flavor - it ought to taste good, as she'd been aerating it for the last half hour pouring and refilling the glasses. Why am I doing this?

She'd been practicing every night, usually in the small hours when she couldn't sleep, when whatever she'd been drinking or whoever she'd been entertaining had faded into the night and Lita was left with the memories of what had happened a week before. She had expected the nightmares to all revolve around the Stranger, or the Shade, or the lightning and chaos of a battle between gods. And there were plenty of those. But something unexpected haunted her nights - the cool, overlapping echo of Whisper's voice as she stood under the water of the Chapel.

"Remembering your time serving wine in Elendel will help you with one task, for instance."

Every other memory mentioned had been born out within that last day. The ring, the bayonet, the memories of the Stranger. But that first one... had it simply been some sort of joke? It seemed out of place in that context. No, there was something that Whisper had seen, and now Lita was just waiting for it. It was driving her mad already. But at the very least, she could be prepared. And so, she practiced pouring wine.

It has its uses, she thought, taking another sip. The second glass would be for Laurelai - if she ever got here. Lita had been ready for the better part of an hour, and she didn't have the powers of instantaneous Forgery. It was enough time to start making her second-guess her outfit, which was never good. Lita moved from her sitting room back into her bedroom and looked in the mirror, chewing the edge of one lacquered nail.

She'd been very happy with the teal velvet dress when she'd slipped it on. It was growing cold in the city, and the fabric combined with the long sleeves would serve well to keep her warm - not that she actually required fabric to keep herself warm. But it was the principle of the thing. She turned, critiquing silently. Lita had picked something rather understated to avoid calling too much attention to herself - but was it too understated? The neckline certainly would catch a few eyes, and the buttons all down the back where it clung to her before ending in a slight flare. She'd braided her hair straight down her back today, tying the end off in gold, and slid on a pair of larger golden hoops to round out her bevvy of ear cuffs. But besides that, Lita had gone for little flash.

It was a somber day, wasn't it? Showing up in a gala frock might be a tad gauche, and certainly would be memorable. Probably more memorable than Lita wished to be. After all, she'd managed to retain her city cover after the Forgery broke. Plenty of her contacts still knew Lita LaPetit, the Scadrian socialite, and she even still had her hotel suite at the Grand. A few small mercies granted in his wreckage of a week.

Not to mention the rather large mercy - or perhaps not - of still running the Department of Counter Intelligence. Lita sighed, sipped some more wine, and went back out into the sitting room to wait for her friend. Work could wait for one day. It was a party - sort of. Enough of one, anyway. 

Edited by ZincAboutIt
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Temeria - Hall of Legends

It was suddenly quiet when she entered the hall, as if someone had muffled all sounds of the city outside. She slowed her steps unconsciously once she had walked through the high doors, her eyes moving over to the statues towering inside. Only then did she allow herself a deep, careful breath, pressure falling off her shoulders. She had procrastinated, pushed this visit back until the city had decided on a vigil to remember those that had been lost. Temeria only understood half of what had happened, but she knew that someone had tinkered with her live. The rest was for scholars.

Straightening her back she walked into the hall, looked for the one statue she remembered clearly. She passed a healer, the founder of the hospital who had died in a war years ago and then she saw him. Tall, bowler hat on his head, clothes immaculate. And his face, his face was the one she could picture so easily. Her fingers found the coin in her pocket and she lifted it, ensured that she wasn't wrong. It was him, the man who had handed his place over to her, when he had to leave. He had welcomed her, had taken her here on a quest of his and then he had left. She looked over to the entrance of the crypt and frowned slightly. There had been a skeleton down there. Her frown deepened when she realized that she wasn't entirely sure anymore what it had been. She had fought it and it had lost. That was the part that mattered. Although she was still wondering why he hadn't delt with it himself. Politeness? To make her feel needed and useful? She was sure that he could have destroyed it. Differently for sure, but he had to have been able to do it.

She turned back to Mac's statue and pocketed her coin again. Try to make a difference, to help the city. His request before he had left, his final words to her. She had tried, had kept the boarding house, even added a tavern. She had made contact with some of the guilds, although she wasn't entirely sure how many were around. She had taken his belongings into the Alleys so that his companions knew that he was gone. She had tried. But looking back she realized that she hadn't tried enough. At one point she had decided that running the boarding house was enough. Not a conscious decision, it somehow had happened.

Temeria pursed her lips and looked for Ember, before lifting her gaze to Mac's face again. She could blame the forgery, the false set of memories, or she could leave all that behind and finally really keep her word. She would try to change this city. Or at least a part of it. The idea alone felt huge, so huge that she could picture herself shying away from it. But no, she had to try. Gritting her teeth against the wave of loneliness that hit her when she realized that she had no real idea how to start, no plan, no one to refer to, she whirled around, leaving the statue behind. Try. She only had to give it a try. 

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~Vivica; Alley K-9- 1077~ 

"Today, we will continue our reading on the zoology of the various Earth iterations."

Vivica sat, cross-legged, on the floor of the K-9 Juvenile Training Laboratory, Special Division. She had a large encyclopedia cracked open on her lap, one finger set ready at the top of the page, and smiled at her audience. Arrayed around her were fifteen plump, warm Labrador puppies, each one sitting at attention, posture perfect, tails (mostly) still. One of them panted softly - that was Zeta-9. He had been rather late to gather in the Reading Room, likely due to overenthusiasm regarding his breakfast. The other fourteen members of the Zeta Class paid him no regard, other than perhaps a sidelong look of light disapproval. Vivica winked at him.

In the corner, Gamma-10 sat with all the grizzled, iron will of a seasoned field commander. His glossy chocolate coat was tinged with white at the muzzle, but he had lost none of his bearing. Gamma-10 was one of the Dark Alley's finest soldiers. He had once brought down an Edgedancer. An Edgedancer, all by himself! He gave a single, low "woof!", calling the puppies to stillness. Even Zeta-9 stopped panting.

"Thank you, Gamma-10," Vivica said, giving the large chocolate lab a respectful nod. "Now, this morning we will be learning about the Saltwater Crocodile. The Saltwater Crocodile, or Crocodylus porosus, is the largest living reptile on Earth. Males can grow up to a length of 6 meters (20 ft), though rarely exceeding 6.3 meters (21 ft), and a weight of 1,000–1,300 kg (2,200–2,900 lb). Females are much smaller and rarely surpass 3 meters (10 ft). The Saltwater Crocodile is a hypercarnivorous apex predator within its habitat, mainly living in saltwater habitats and brackish wetlands. They are ambush hunters, using their jaws to drag prey into the water and subsequently drown them before devouring them. Here's my favorite part - a Saltwater Crocodile has a bite force of 16,414 newtons! That's about 3,960 psi. Isn't that magnificent?"

One of the puppies, Vivica thought it might be Zeta-5, yipped in agreement. Her enthusiasm was tempered by a gentle growl from Gamma-10, who brooked no nonsense. Vivica gave him an indulgent smile. 

"Oh, come now Gamma-10, everyone loves a good bite force fact," she said. Gamma-10, for his part, said nothing, though he did make a low, rather concessionary whine. Vivica held out one hand, and Gamma-10 obligingly provided his chin for scratches. "For comparison, an average domestic dog produces around 250 psi. Of course, bite force isn't everything. I hardly think a pack of crocodiles would be well suited to patrolling the Alleys."

Vivica stopped to think. "As a matter of fact I believe that was tried. We lost a not-insignificant number of researchers, as I recall. Well," she shrugged. "Anyway. I believe Gamma-10 is going to take you all through some ambush drills. Then, we will learn a bit more about crocodilians and we can all have biscuits!"

The Zeta Class puppies broke out into excited yipping at this; Zeta-9 managed to catch his own tail, and was wagging it in his mouth. Vivica tried not to laugh; the Seekradors were such proud creatures. She did so dearly love visiting them, though. Nox encouraged it, something about keeping her safe. Vivica marked her page in the encyclopedia and set it aside, settling back against the wall as she watched the puppies march in an excruciatingly adorable line to the other side of the room. 

Nox. As always, when unoccupied her thoughts were drawn to him. He had been so busy since the Forgery broke, she had barely had a chance to speak with him. He came to check on her every other day or so; he was so attentive. Vivica knew that even these small attentions were more than she could ever merit on her own. But still, she yearned to see him more, speak with him for longer, feel the warm surety of his hand around her waist, pulling her close as he had when breaking through the Realms. Their short, quiet tea party in the University hall had been wonderful, and showing him all her gratitude when he was still in her mind had been the most glorious moment of her life.

But Vivica wished, selfishly, for more. More tea, more laughter, more warm, patient smiles. Perhaps a chance to bake together, maybe even to entertain a guest together!

"Wouldn't that be lovely, Bennington?" Vivica glanced upwards, smile widening at the sight of her oldest friend swimming a pleasant loop in the air, glowing with soft violet luminescence. "Just you, and me, and Nox. And frosting. Lots and lots of frosting."

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Rik Poot-- Alleycity

The Grand Magister of Magic was beginning to long for the sweet release of death.

He picked himself up from the street and brushed the dust from his robes of station-- his long leather trench coat, in this case. He glared at the back of his assailant, who was currently crashing into another man in a violent embrace. He could hear their sobbing even above the tumult of the vigil.

Insolent fools. Not one person in this city had showed Rik Poot the respect his station deserved, and they were all giants. He had yet to pass a single person his height. This was the third time some star-crossed lovers or grief-stricken mourners had knocked him flat in their unseemly haste to reunite. If only they could show some decorum or modesty, the blatant sentimentality could be tolerated. Instead, Rik despaired for his sanity.

The sea of people parted for a moment, and he caught sight of his target. Rik grasped his staff and forced his way into the streets. He only narrowly avoided another knockdown by sending a telekinetic pulse that left sweat beading on his face. But make it he did.

He stepped up behind the woman and cleared his throat. "Tenareo of Roshar," he said loudly. "I, Sorcerer of the Mississippi and Weaver of the Arcane Arts, have come to join the Ghostbloods."

@Sherlock Holmes

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~Laurelai; Laurelai's apartment, Lita's apartment~

"Perfect." Laurelai said to herself, turning a graceful circle in front of the mirror to examine herself from a number of angles. "Absolutely, irresistibly lovely."

A little minimalistic makeup, her hair done, dress draping perfectly over her tall figure. Finally she was ready, a vision identical to the one she had been picturing. It was always worth taking the time to achieve perfection, rather than settling for mediocrity. Or simply 'nice'. People might compliment her on looking nice, it tended to make conversations a little easier, particularly if you wanted something from someone. But people remembered when you were perfect.

Five minutes. She sent, picking up a slender silvery pen from a desk and twirling it through her hands. Promise I'll be there then.

Setting the pen back on the desk she gave a subtle sigh, turned it into an even larger breath in, and then out. She forced her satisfaction at her work down to a very dim burn. The faint, trickling sound of water called to her, tempting her to a nice cool shower to help her relax, but she put it out of mind. It was both easier and harder as time went on, but tonight at least she did not have time to entertain thoughts of the Chapel.

Nor did she have time to entertain thoughts about anything else. She needed to stay calm, collected, and poised. Tonight, Laurelai promised to herself, she would stay calm, no matter what. She would not let herself be distracted, would not let emotions show so easily on her face that they might as well come with a giant sign over her head advertising her feelings. 

By habit she began practicing expressions in the mirror, a polite smile, a subtle smirk, an arched eyebrow of interest. Over and over again she moved each muscle of her face with deliberation. Holding them all with an iron will that would brook no movement but those that she permitted. The movements relaxed her, loosening the tense muscles of her jaw and the familiar motions brought calm to her mind, allowing her to finally give another satisfied nod.

"Perfect." She said, picking the pen from the table and causing it to vanish with a flick of the wrist. Not magic, just a trick of sleight of hand she had picked up.

She stepped out into the quiet Alley, looking up only for a moment to the roiling clouds of darkness before back into the stone underfoot. A thought was all it took to rearrange the Alleys, the one Lita resided in only a short distance from her own. It took her only a minute to traverse through them, arriving at a familiar door, and her hand raised to knock before she realized something.

Shoes, idiot. A mental voice sighed, prompting her to look down and notice that she had, indeed, forgotten to replace her shoes. But she was already outside Lita's door, and the tineye had no doubt noticed her, she could not exactly leave without a word and then return. And she absolutely could not tell Lita that she had forgotten something after taking so long to prepare. Instead she sent another little surge of Investiture downwards, Forging herself into the pair she had picked out, a pale beige that blended in with her skintone.

She raised a hand and knocked gently on the door, merely a formality when the resident was a tineye, and had only just heard Lita's footsteps approach when the familiar backflow of Investiture surged through her. She controlled it down to a tight trickle, control learned over years and years of practice, but it would still be something unpredictable, they always were. Hopefully nothing too noticeable.

@ZincAboutIt

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Lita; Lita's Apartment

Footsteps outside the door. Lita sighed and set down her wine glass - nearly finished now - before rising and walking to the door just as Laurelai knocked.

"About time," Lita muttered, turning the knob and opening the door. "You had better look..."

Lita's voice trailed off into nothing as the door swung open to reveal Laurelai standing in her doorway.

"Incredible," she finished, quickly rearranging her surprise into a soft smile. "Well do come in, Laurelai, I would hate to keep you waiting."

She pushed the door the rest of the way open and moved quickly back to her little table, turning in time to watch Laurelai float through the doorway like a wicked fever dream. Lita was rather glad she'd already sold her soul, because she was half tempted to offer it right now for the privilege of sitting and looking at Laurelai a bit longer. Rather than feel underdressed, Lita was actually rather relieved. If she'd wished to compete with Laurelai on this, she'd have had to order a ballgown weeks ago. She and Laurelai were simply playing two different games. And Laurelai was winning. But then, Lita also rather felt like she was winning, if it meant getting to walk about the city drinking with her all day.

"I do hope you paid your tailor in blood sacrifice. Or Atium." Lita slid the second glass of wine towards Laurelai with a smirk, then cocked her head, noticing something incongruous for the first time.

"Rather unconventional choice of body modification," Lita said, circling closer to peer at Laurelai's ears. The tips, oddly, had grown longer, tapering into a fine point. It wasn't unpleasant; there was some synchronicity between the way her dress flowed along her tall, willowy frame and her silvery-blonde hair fell over her shoulder that gave an odd sense of rightness to the tapered ears. "Whatever gave you the idea of Forging yourself pointed ears?"

@Voidus

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~Laurelai; Lita's apartment~

A pleased smile crept across Laurelai's lips at Lita's immediate reaction to seeing her. Very well worth the time and effort of pulling everything together, of agonizing over her choices until everything blended seamlessly together into a single perfect aesthetic. It was doubly satisfying to receive such a reaction from Lita, Laurelai could all-too-well recall herself having a similar reaction, when she had seen Lita that first night.

During the Forgery. Her mind whispered to her. You remember the Forgery don't you Laurelai?

She held herself still, dismissing the thought with a mental shake rather than a physical one. Serene. Calm. Controlled. She was not going to let her emotions get the better of her today. No matter what happened. She could simply avoid thinking about the Forgery, focus on something else. Focus on...

Her eyes drifted down from Lita's face to the dress she was wearing, teal and all in velvet. It prompted a second pleased smile from Laurelai, as she gave in an appreciative look over. Velvet was, of course, always lovely, she had to make a point to hold her hands still to keep from touching it on instinct. And the colour... Lita had looked lovely in the gold, but the slightly cool tones of this dress set the rest of her off very nicely indeed, her hair was even more striking in colour than usual, and her skin seemed to practically glow. The cut was lovely as well, with the neckline...

Laurelai glanced away, pulling her gaze towards the table and the glasses that rested on it. Gods she could use a drink, she had been so busy getting ready she'd completely neglected to have a glass before arriving. Not usually a problem but... it would help her relax, stay calm. Laurelai smiled as Lita spoke, not forcing it but also not quite allowing herself a completely natural expression. It was a fine line to dance.

"I do hope you paid your tailor in blood sacrifice. Or Atium." Lita said, taking note of her gaze and sliding the glass over.

Laurelai had, in fact, found a tailor in the DA who did accept both methods of payment, but Mr. Renoux did not quite make clothes that suited her fashion preferences. His were more the type that incited instant madness in the eye of the one who beheld them. Which was hardly practical when one wished to be praised for an outfit, Laurelai had reasoned. It would be most impractical.

"Whatever gave you the idea of Forging yourself pointed ears?" Lita asked.

"Oh well you know." Laurelai began, nodding along politely. "It just seemed to... to..."

It took a moment for Lita's question to actually register, focused as Laurelai was on keeping her appearance straight. But as the words finally clicked in Laurelai's mind her hands instantly shot to each side of her head, finding the base of her ear and trailing the earlobe with an extended finger and then leading up the outside, for longer than should have been normal, until it reached a slight point.

"Oh for.." Laurelai huffed, very nearly swearing. "Of all the days. Cursed bane. Do you have a mirror I can borrow? I can set it right probably, just need a minute."

~Voidus; Voidus' office, the Alleys~

Voidus signed his name without any hint of a flourish, just practiced efficiency before he dragged the next paper across his desk from the now dwindling pile that needed his attention. Paying only half-attention as he read through it, he gave a weary sigh. The Alleys had needed a great deal more attention even than usual in the wake of the Forgery. Department heads vanished, entire departments that had been created in the Forgery were now in a dubious state of existence. Thousands of problems springing up, and nobody who wanted to deal with them. Denizens handed them up the chain to their heads of, and they in turn handed them on to Voidus.

And a meeting in the city to deal with. He recalled with a touch of bitterness. The other guilds wanting to discuss the Forgery no doubt.

He could have ignored the request, could have simply withdrawn into the Alleys and let everything eventually settle. Time had a way of balancing everything out. Enough time and the city would forget that the Forgery had ever happened. But time was not a luxury he could indulge in right now. Things moved too quickly, and for the first time in a literal age, Voidus had people in his life to consider. His daughter, Laurelai, was alive. Alive and with the DA. She was also far too mortal, in his opinion. But swooping into her life and spiking her with immortality would likely be considered overbearing. So instead he would need to simply protect her for now.

And Vivica... well, Voidus had not quite had a chance to discuss what Vivica was just yet. After the Forgery there had been so much that needed doing, so many fires to put out both metaphorical and literal. He had barely had time to check up on her in the days since, leaving her with one of the squads of Seekradors for protection and comfort. Perhaps, if she was not alone that would help in some degree at least. He hoped so.

Minutes ticked by as he worked through the pile, eyes scanning each page at blinding speed before signing, adding notes and addendums and a few stern replies. Gradually, blessedly, the pile shrunk until at last he signed one final page and set the pen to one side. He was, at last, finished. There would be more work soon enough, no doubt, there always was. But for now he could have some time for his own pursuits, he could...

The meeting. He recalled again. He was also much more tempted to ignore it now, but perhaps... perhaps he could simply make it a little more pleasant for himself. Less of a chore, and a little more sociable. After all if he didn't meet with them now then who knew what would happen, a month from now they might try something stupid like invading the Alleys.

With a single resolute nod, he stood from his desk and straightened his collar. He had a grip on the Alleys and was an instant from pulling himself through them before he recalled something. Reaching into one of the fine mahogany drawers, one that seemed strangely deeper than it should once opened, he pulled two boxes out. Both were long, thin and rectangular, dark black and with a simple ribbon on the top. Tucking both under an arm, he folded the Alleys around him and traveled to Alley K-9-1077.

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~Lita; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

It took a moment before Laurelai registered Lita's question, her face the picture of composed attention while her eyes took on a slightly more strained look. Then, the lovely smooth plane of her forehead wrinkled in confusion, and Lita actually had to bite her lip to keep from giggling as Laurelai ran two fingers up the outside edges of both ears, her blue eyes widening in shock.

"Oh for.." Laurelai huffed, very nearly swearing. "Of all the days. Cursed bane. Do you have a mirror I can borrow? I can set it right probably, just need a minute."

Lita grinned; she much preferred Laurelai this way, at ease enough to risk swearing and allowing negative emotion into her voice. Though perhaps "at ease" wasn't quite correct. Lita's grin deepened. She'd also take "off balance." So much more fun than the polished, perfect china doll Laurelai was to the rest of the world.

"Must you?" Lita said easily, moving one step closer to better inspect the newly-reshaped ears. "I rather like them - for an occasion, of course. But," she shrugged, feigning a slightly disappointed, nonchalant tone, "if you must, there's a mirror in the bedroom. And the washroom. And the hallway. I have quite a few mirrors, as you might imagine. Probably not as many as you do, though."

Lita flashed Laurelai a bit of teeth and winked. 

"I'm quite glad you took as long as you did, or I'd be completely sober to witness this as opposed to slightly tipsy. And that would be a terrible crime."

 ~Vivica; Alley K-9-1077~

"...and one for you, Zeta-15." Vivica set a round biscuit in front of the last fat Labrador puppy. They all sat at attention once again, eyes forward, though a few kept sneaking glances down at their biscuits. Vivica took two more from the glass jar on the counter and walked over to Gamma-10, setting them both down before the older Seekrador.

"And two for you, Gamma-10. It would be terribly rude of us to fail to recognize one of our finest, most valorous soldiers. And none of that gruff growling about how you don't deserve it and you're only doing your duty. I know how much you enjoy bone marrow biscuits."

Gamma-10 made a very feeble attempt at protest before giving a short "chuff" to the pups, who fell upon their biscuits with the savage euphoria only puppies are capable of. For his part, Gamma-10 ate his biscuits with much more stately grace, though Vivica noticed, happily, that the canine commander licked his chops with relish. 

Wonderful, I'm so glad I worked through the night on that recipe. It was so very lovely not to have to sleep again, not to worry about anyone coming into her room and forcing her to eat or take medicine or lay quietly and accept her IV drip. That world was gone, gone forever, and Vivica was here now. Here with the Seekradors, and the black Alley skies, and a brand new lab coat that had already acquired a few beautiful smears of red. Here with Nox, when he wasn't terribly busy. 

Gamma-10 let out another low growl suddenly, and the Zeta Class immediately turned their heads towards the Alley entrance. Vivica whipped her own head around, hand reaching instinctively for a long spike she kept in her coat pocket, when Gamma-10's growl turned into an exuberant bark of recognition. Instantly, the puppies began falling over one another in their attempts to both line up and jump at the same time. Vivica felt all her tense anticipation bloom into delight. There was only one person that could get the Zeta Class so very excited. He was here.

Vivica quickly brushed her hands off on her coat, seeking to rid them of biscuit crumbs, and ran her fingers through her hair. She'd remembered to comb it today, hadn't she? Yes, yes she had, right after she'd taken a nice long warm shower. Vivica had always preferred a bath to a shower, but these Alley quarters weren't built for long-term human resident comforts. So, a shower it was. At least she was nice and clean; it wouldn't do to meet Nox if she wasn't. 

"How do I look?" Vivica whispered to Bennington. Bennington, for his part, said nothing as always, though he did wiggle his tentacles encouragingly. "Flatterer," Vivica sighed fondly, then lifted up on tiptoe in excitement as her ears caught the reassuring cadence of Nox's long stride. He'd come to see her once more.

@Voidus

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 ~Ember; Hall of Legends~

The Spren swirled around the collar of a statue, a man it thought, though possibly a woman, with upraised arms. A tiny chip had formed at the back, a patch where the stone was rough instead of smooth, and pitted slightly. The spren swirled around this spot with great interest, examining the break from many different angles to better appreciate the damage. It was small, the type of destruction that would take decades or centuries to overtake something this large, but it was inexorable, unceasing destruction.

There is something beautiful in that too, is there not? Ember thought to themselves,  his mental voice crackling in perfectly identical fashion to when he spoke aloud. Ooh, another interesting thing I remember. A difference. Humans say that their voice sounds different when they hear it, but to a spren a voice is only ever what it is. Should I tell Temeria?

A flicker of sparks hovered up from behind the statue, figure dissipating into innumerable glowing points before pulling back together mid-air in the form of a person, a man with a straight back and glowing eyes and a tiny sword. Ember liked this appearance the most, lately. It felt more right. This was another form of desctruction, one not nearly as inexorable as pitted stone but far swifted and more exciting. It was one of Ember's favourite kinds.

He found Temeria three statues over, just now turning and striding towards the entrance, it was a nice stride. Purposeful. Important. Decisive. If only she could crack the stone under her feet, or throw lightning while she walked or... or any of the other numerous ways that she might open up her surroundings and show Ember what lay on the inside of things. Ember loved the inside of things just as much as he loved the change in things. And he never understood the other spren's aversion to them. Honorspren looked to the inside of people all the time didn't they? They were always talking about how disappointed they were in the hearts of men.

"Temeria." Ember said with a happy popping sound as he streaked to her shoulder and reformed, his sword now sheathed. "You look interesting right now. Important. Are we doing something important?"

@Sorana

 

 ~Laurelai; Lita's apartment~

Lita was grinning as Laurelai inspected herself. Of course she was grinning, no doubt she would be able to hold this over Laurelai forever if she cared to. The night Laurelai had spent so long looking over herself and getting ready only to not notice that her anatomy had been altered. But if there was some small comfort it was that Lita would not at least be overly malicious in doing so, only teasing.

Yes well you'd know all about that wouldn't you? A voice called to her. Her own voice. You remember during the Forgery there was another reason you were putting so much time into choosing outfits. You were trying so hard to tea-

Laurelai cut the voice off with the swiftness of an executioner's guillotine. Silencing the traitorous thoughts. It was best not to dwell on those thoughts. Lita was her friend now, which meant it would be entirely innocent and playful teasing. An extension of their usual banter, nothing more.

"Must you?" Lita said, moving a step closer with a subtle waft of perfumed skin. "I rather like them - for an occasion, of course."

Laurelai's fingers froze, the skin beneath them growing noticeably warmer to the touch. The cursed things were about three times as sensitive as they were before, alerting her very quickly to the increased bloodflow an heat that rose at Lita's words, entirely unexpected.

"But, if you must, there's a mirror in the bedroom. And the washroom. And the hallway. I have quite a few mirrors, as you might imagine. Probably not as many as you do, though." Lita continued, with a voice of light disappointment.

Laurelai chewed her lip for a full three seconds before remembering to stop, releasing the soft flesh from between her teeth and trying to restore a neutral expression. She was calm. She was collected. Her ears and cheeks might feel increasingly warm, but that would simply be due to the chill of the air that had just begun turning towards true cold. Laurelai was not exactly dressed the warmest she had ever been.

"I'm quite glad you took as long as you did, or I'd be completely sober to witness this as opposed to slightly tipsy. And that would be a terrible crime." Lita said, flashing brilliant white teeth in a grin that pinned Laurelai in place, followed by a wink that was all too familiar.

'Yes." Laurelai replied, voice trembling only for the first instant. "Well we wouldn't want to commit any terrible crimes would we?"

She gave a smirk and a raised brow, trying to recover the usual patter, the familiar back and forth of wit. Much easier then, to focus purely on being clever, rather than on how long Lita's lashes looked right now, or how very nicely that teal set off her much more strikingly green eyes.

"Goodness, warm today isn't it?" Laurelai said, somewhat more quickly and taking a quick sip of the wine to calm her nerves.

@ZincAboutIt

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~Lita; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

Lita hardly needed to burn tin to detect Laurelai's near-instantaneous blush; the tips of those ears turned a rather shocking pink as soon as Lita mentioned she liked them. Which, of course, only made Lita like them more. Laurelai had always been rather hard to read, harder than most, even for Lita. So incredibly polished and practiced, so unruffled and cool. There was something terribly satisfying about watching her lose her balance. Something familiar.

She had done this in the Forgery, not even what - two weeks ago? Less, probably. Granted, things had been much different. They hadn't known one another for very long, had hardly built up anything resembling friendship. And Laurelai had been tense as a strung bow because of her Chapel memories. And Lita had been fresh off a very vivid dream...

"Yes. Well we wouldn't want to commit any terrible crimes would we?"

Laurelai's voice shook ever-so-slightly as she spoke. It actually shook. Lita blinked, her attention drawn blessedly away from memories of dark curls and white teeth back to the present, where Laurelai stood, contemplating her ears and staring at Lita with a familiar heated fascination. Lita knew she should feel flattered, or perhaps feel awkward on behalf of her friend, caught in some strange refraction of Forged memories. But instead, Lita felt the acid stab of irritation as Laurelai cast about for her glass of wine, seeking to give her mouth something to do besides just ask for what she wanted.

Nobody knew how to simply ask. Before the Forgery, Lita had not particularly considered sleeping with Laurelai. Now, she considered it often. It sounded like a rather wonderful way to pass some time - she knew it for true, in fact, having done so already once. And that had been a version of Laurelai fresh off a life of relative normalcy, working at a hospital and living with family. Lita was more than certain this version had a rather larger cache of skills in that arena. So why deny themselves a new facet to their friendship? Hadn't they gone through enough rusting pain and sorrow and lying? And it was so painfully obvious that she wanted it. So why not just ask? And with such a level of obvious discomfort around the idea, Lita now also couldn't ask. 

Trapped by someone else's limited view of what to do with her. Did anyone, actually, know? Wouldn't it be so easy to just duck into the bedroom for a blissful half hour, head out, and spend the day easy and calm? Was Lita doomed to an existence of tense laughter, concealed blushes, and practiced neutral smiles? Lita watched Laurelai sip wine, her bright blue eyes filled with a mild panic and confusion, and gave the tiniest sigh. Laurelai would have to figure this out on her own, very likely. She would play this game with herself and with Lita until they both grew tired of it, or tired of one another. So Lita decided to let her play it. But she didn't have to make it easy

"Goodness," Laurelai said. "Warm today, isn't it?"

Lita raised an eyebrow, looking down at her long velvet sleeves and then allowing herself a very thorough inspection of Laurelai's, admittedly magnificent, lavender ensemble. It revealed quite a bit, and Lita was entirely certain she'd be freezing before day's end.

"Yes, positively sweltering." Lita smiled knowingly. "Whyever did you choose to wear so many layers?"

@Voidus

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~Voidus; Alley K-9-1077~

Voidus appeared outside the door, rather than inside. Knocking would be the polite thing to do, even if Vivica had very little concept of privacy around him. She had bared her mind to him after all, compared to that what was being caught at an unexpected moment? But it was still the polite thing. Voidus believed in extending courtesy even to the irritating citizens of the city when he had to, he could certainly extend it to Vivica.

He rapped gently on the door, smiling at the sound of exuberant yips and the sound of tiny furred bodies falling over themselves and each other. Likely forming themselves into a line, though the younger squads took a little time to do so effectively. He would need to remember to give them some praise over it, as a show of appreciation for them taking on a less than normal task. Usually Seekradors were tasked with tracking and retrieval, not protection.

"Vivica?" He called aloud, voice carrying through the hardwood door. "It is Nox. May I..."

He opened the door carefully, giving a respectable pause for her to refuse him entry though he was entirely uncertain of what circumstances could ever prompt her to do so. She was remarkably... cavalier sometimes. As expected no objections came and so he entered, folding his coat over an arm as he crossed the threshold and giving a passing glance over the room. As expected, the Seekrador pups had lined up, a few of them trembling with excitement and all except for the older Gamma 10 wagging their tails involuntarily. It was only as his gaze passed each of them that they held perfectly still, head lifted up proudly only to immediately tremble with even greater excitement as he moved on.

"Hello Viv." He said, eyes turning to Vivica with a slight smile. "I hope you're well. I brought some presents."

~Laurelai; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

Something flashed for just a moment behind Lita's eyes, too quickly to catch. Laurelai felt her own eyes sharpen in response, quick to trace each line of expression as Lita raised an eyebrow, glancing first at her own, and then Laurelai's outfits. Laurelai looked for any hint of a tell, but in a most unfair distribution of talent Lita had the ability both to see through most other people's deceptions as well as immaculately craft her own. It was rare that Laurelai managed to get an entirely complete read of the redhead, even after knowing her so well.

"Yes, positively sweltering." Lita agreed with a smile, though Laurelai wasn't quite sure that she would call it 'sweltering' even if her cheeks, ears and neck did feel rather warm.

"Whyever did you choose to wear so many layers?" Lita continued.

"Oh well you know." Laurelai began, her tongue buying time for her mind to finish processing body language and start with the question that she had been asked. "It's just part of... part of the..."

Layers? Her mind repeated with curiosity.

Laurelai looked down at the dress Lita had just examined. It was one of the bolder outfits that she had ever owned, and while there were very technically layers of fabric to the dress, they were not the kind that would cause any issues with heat. Quite the opposite in fact. And even with the thinness of the fabric disregarded, the amount of visible skin it showed would be enough for her to catch a chill in any season but summer.

"Mmm, perhaps the wine." She said, her face growing another degree warmer at the realization of just how much Lita could see of her. "I... well it's best to relax while picking an outfit so I suppose we both started a little early today."

She gave an easy, wry smile. Though it did require a little more deliberate effort than usual to produce. Internally however she bore through her own self-directed scowl of disapproval and berated her choice to go quite so bold. Showing up with an outfit like this and her ears altered on top of it? Laurelai had no doubt it would seem almost desperate, and that was something she always wanted to avoid. Particularly now.

Yes wouldn't want to look so desperate in front of Lita would we? The mocking voice returned. Wouldn't want to... collapse into a ball of stress so tense that you practically unraveled yourself at her touch.  

Partially to distract Lita, and partially to distract herself, Laurelai pulled a small box from within her bag and laid it onto the table. She let it sit just a moment before sliding the green velvet box across to Lita with a more natural smile.

"However speaking of which, the weather not the wine, I got you something." Laurelai said, eyes glinting with genuine enjoyment to give a gift to her friend. "Something of a 'welcome back' present. Or a 'congratulations on the promotion' I suppose."

@ZincAboutIt

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~Vivica; Alley K-9-1077~

"Vivica?" Nox's voice carried easily through the door. "It is Nox. May I..."

Vivica thrilled at the sound of that voice. So polite, always so polite. Even when the world itself was shaped by his hand, he always asked if he could enter whatever room she was in. Back in the Forgery he had been much the same. He had asked in the Cognitive Ward, too, always getting permission before stepping over the threshold of her room, as if to extend her the brief imagining of a life with real choices. Vivica smiled, about to call out that yes, of course he may come in, when he opened the door slowly, deliberately. Giving her a last moment to refuse.

As if she could ever refuse him anything.

He stepped in and immediately the Zeta Class pulled to the sharpest attention, little noses high in the air and tails twitching with excitement. Nox gave them all a look-over like a general inspecting his troops, face stern and cool but with the tiniest curve to the edges of his mouth. It was very difficult not to smile at the pups, especially when they were doing their best to be serious. As soon as his dark gaze passed over them, the pups resumed their wagging, shaking with excitement as they kept formation. Vivica understood this feeling; she, too, shook with excitement whenever he looked at her, though usually just on the inside. 

As if called by her thoughts, he did turn to look at her, lips forming a small, but true, smile. Vivica felt her own stretch wider.

"Hello Viv." He said. "I hope you're well. I brought some presents."

Vivica's initial delight at the idea of presents was immediately tempered with horror at the realization that she had gotten him nothing at all. Silently she cursed herself - so foolish. So rude of her not to think of something. She looked back to him with wide eyes, giving a shaky smile. 

"Hello, Nox, it's so wonderful to see you today. I'm afraid I've gotten nothing for you - please forgive me. I should have been more prepared."

She caught sight of two boxes under his arm. Two! Both her excitement and her guilt grew. "It's... alright if you don't want to give them to me anymore. I'd understand."

~Lita; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

"However speaking of which, the weather not the wine, I got you something. Something of a 'welcome back' present. Or a 'congratulations on the promotion' I suppose."

Whatever Lita had expected of Laurelai, this was not it. Her irritation, her small machinations and plans to spend the afternoon teasing Laurelai, were abruptly shattered at the appearance of the green velvet box. She looked up at her friend, meeting what felt like the first genuine smile of the day, and reflected it back before tilting her head and sliding it further towards herself.

She picked it up, weighing it in her hand, and her smile deepened as well as gained a hint of confusion. It was heavier than she'd have expected a piece of jewelry to be, and felt rather singular. Almost like a paperweight, though lighter than that.

"A present? Laurelai, you shouldn't have." Lita cracked the lid even as she spoke; the words were a formality. Lita loved presents, and would always open one as soon as look at it. She felt her mouth open a bit as she saw what lay inside, and then she heard herself let out a clear, true laugh. 

"Why whatever is this?" Inside the box, nestled in cream silk, was a slender bronze spike about half as long as her hand. She flicked green eyes up to meet Laurelai's, and for a moment it was as if the Forgery had never happened and everything was easy as breathing again between them. Lita wanted to hold onto that ease, but she could already feel it dissipate. Still, things felt better, simpler, for a moment.

"Power or subtlety, is it?" Lita joked, her voice only slightly cracking on the end. Silly girl, he's dead, and those are just words. "Or is this the mysterious third option I was not told about? The ability to never lose at cards? Being able to taste memories? Pulling mille feuille out of my pockets like Mac does?"

@Voidus

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Temeria - Hall of Legends

"I don't know." Temeria admitted with a grimace. She lifted a hand to Ember and sighed. "I mean, I know that I have to do something, but I don't know how." She fell silent, continued to head towards the huge doors and stepped outside. There were people outside, most walking or standing together in groups. Her hand touched the handle of her sword and she gave a slight shrug.

"I don't know the right people?" She amended her earlier statement. "I'm still lost in this city." another grimace. "And don't tell me, that I run a boarding house and know tons of people." She felt a smile creep on her face. "I know that I do. But I need the right ones. Like my sister maybe." Temeria fell silent, pondering her last statement. It bothered her. To know that her sister was here, to know where she could find her was one thing. To ask someone for help who'd despised her for years was something else entirely. They had talked, but still. It was probably better to start somewhere else. But where. Mac's associates, colleagues or whatever they exactly were? The prospect to face them again, to step into the strange place where they lived again was a daring one. So maybe somewhere else.

She looked at Ember and smiled at him. "Where would you start? We can try to find something to look inside." She offered mostly to see Ember brighten at the prospect. She liked when he was enjoying himself and it would be something easy to begin with. Unconciously she tapped her fingers on the hilt of her sword again and again. A sword. She liked to carry it around, but it felt more and more useless the more she learned about this place. She used to fight and now she found herself in a situation where she needed to learn and study, where she had to plot and plan. There was no use for a sword. A stale taste in her mouth made her purse her lips. It was so easy to solve a conflict with a sword, but that wasn't what she had to do. A better place. That sounded like something a hero would do, not like a task she could manage.

"I need to learn." She admitted quietly and shrugged again to cover her embarrassment. "I need to be more than just some random woman who leads a boarding house." Temeria walked down the stairs and stopped in front of the hall. "And now we're back at the how, or the where, or the who." She made a gesture with her hand, indicating that in the end it was all the same. Her eyes followed the people outside, with their different styles of clothes, everybody looking so differently from everybody else. "Any ideas?" she asked Ember again while she considered her options. She needed to grow, turn into something more. What she lacked was a place for her roots. 

@Voidus

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Tena was still looking up at the Canton of Combat, thinking, when she heard her name-- her full name, oddly-- spoken, and turned to meet the one who had said it. She was greeted by the sight of a small, mousy-looking man with a pompous air, a staff gripped in one hand, and a body draped in a trench coat. How odd, he didn't look like anyone from any planet she'd been to. A moment later, she registered his words. How had he known what planet she was from? She looked a fair deal like some people from Sel, if with darker skin, so had he done some research on her? Doubtless she'd told many people some vague details of her past, so she decided to not worry about it.

She opened her mouth to ask what Mississippi was, then closed it as she remembered some of the names she'd heard being used to refer to Earth. That was one of them. Then what were "the Arcane Arts"? She hadn't the faintest clue, but something about the small man and his attitude intrigued her. She was reminded, for a moment, of the man she'd spent her time on Scadrial with, but while Tashut had been flamboyant, he'd never presumed himself above her. This man was something entirely new, then.

"Hello, Sorcerer," Tena said, giving him a smile. She wasn't good at putting those on her face yet, even with all the time she'd spent trying to appease people throughout her life. "You say you want to join the Ghostbloods. We are a most particular organisation about who we recruit, I should have you know. I'll talk with you here to see if you meet my standards." She thought for a moment, then continued. "Answer a few questions for me. What's your name? How did you know to find me here? What are your skills?"

@Grey Knight

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~Laurelai; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

"Power or subtlety, is it?" Lita asked jokingly, though Laurelai did not miss the fraction of a second where her voice had cracked. "Or is this the mysterious third option I was not told about? The ability to never lose at cards? Being able to taste memories? Pulling mille feuille out of my pockets like Mac does?"

"I do believe that I've already never witnessed you lose at cards." Laurelai said, grinning in kind. "And unfortunately I have absolutely no idea how Mac does that, even R&D isn't entirely certain. Now there should also be..."

Laurelai reached out to pull the cream silk lining up, revealing a small glass vial beneath it which she set in front of Lita, still smiling subtly. Laurelai did love receiving gifts but she enjoyed giving them just as much. She savoured the smile and the laugh that Lita gave her at the present, felt it warm her own smile a little more. Whatever else had happened during the Forgery, at least this had not changed. They were still friends.

But would she stay that way? If she knew. That insufferable voice just refused to stay quiet. If you were really her friend Laurelai then you would actually be honest with her.

"You already have a zinctongue" Laurelai said, forcing a smile to carry through a slight shiver of discomfort. "I thought perhaps some brass to go with it?"

~Voidus; Alley K-9-1077~

"Hello, Nox, it's so wonderful to see you today." Vivica replied, her voice shaking slightly even as her eyes lit with delight.

Something wrong? Voidus thought, eyes quickly flicking back to Gamma-10, but the grizzled Seekrador seemed as at ease as he was ever likely to, and had not made any motion to report any unusual or noteworthy incidents. What then could have upset her? Or was it simply the lingering instability to her soul?

"I'm afraid I've gotten nothing for you - please forgive me. I should have been more prepared. It's... alright if you don't want to give them to me anymore. I'd understand." She continued.

Voidus gave a wry smile at her words, something he should have expected. Vivica, while remarkably unbothered by things that certainly did bother most, was also perpetually worried about appearing impolite or rude. He shook his head in a slight motion, his smile shifting to an attempt at being reassuring, and he set both the boxes on the table, the slightly squarer, smaller box on the bottom.

"You have given me plenty Viv." He objected. "You gave me back everything that I now have, and you gave me..."

Almost he said 'you', it had been clear enough after all when he had shared her mind for those few delightful moments. She had offered everything about herself to him, every corner of her mind, every joyous moment of delight. But they had still not precisely had a moment to discuss that, and so he shifted slightly at the last moment.

"You gave me the pleasure of your company." He said instead. "Both during the Forgery and after. But if you insist on giving me something in return, this first one is actually something of a present for myself as well. If you would care to, I would love to have your company tonight. There is a... meeting of some kind in the city. I would love some more pleasant company during it."

Pulling the top of the box he revealed the simple white dress inside of it, tailored to her size and with an additional chiffon skirt layered over the silk. He had tried to find something that was formal enough without veering too far from Vivica's normal style. And in white to better to show any red that she acquired whilst wearing it.

"I do hope you like it." Voidus said, dark eyes watching her interestedly for her reaction. "But if there's anything you would like to change..."

@ZincAboutIt

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~Lita; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

The moment Laurelai lifted the silk lining under the spike and removed a vial of metal, Lita understood. She would recognize that color anywhere, even shaved into little flakes and suspended in solution. It had been with her all her life, banded on her arms and her ears.

"You already have a zinctongue" Laurelai said, her tone easy and warm, though a dischordant flicker of unease went through her eyes for a moment. "I thought perhaps some brass to go with it?"

Lita decided to ignore that momentary unease and continue smiling, not wishing to lose the feeling before she had to. She picked up both the vial and the spike, lifting them so they caught the light. Compounding... that was a serious art. She'd never met a brass compounder, though she'd theorized what she might be capable of doing with something like that. Not to mention brass Allomancy...

Now that was an advantage Lita knew of first-hand, having watched her father use it all through her life. She'd never really needed it herself, making do with her wit and her charm and a few other things besides.

But think of what you could do with all of that and a little Soothing... 

Lita's eyes went immediately to Laurelai, tracing the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder, remembering how soft her skin had felt when Lita burned tin. A bad idea, that. It was all well and good to banter and tease, to win a game of wit or seduction on one's own merit. But there was something that felt inherently wrong about Soothing Laurelai - much as the woman could damn well use a Soothing. As a last resort, then. And Lita would need to practice before she was anywhere near subtle enough to Soothe Laurelai in any case.

"Well, I shall have to toddle myself down to R&D and get this set in place somewhere special," Lita said. "Did you have any particular bindpoint in mind? I'm rather unaccustomed to getting to choose my own spike placement. Generally the giver has overridden any sort of opinion of mine. Though I do trust your aesthetic a bit more than that of... others previous."

~Vivica; Alley K-9-1077~

"...But if you insist on giving me something in return, this first one is actually something of a present for myself as well. If you would care to, I would love to have your company tonight. There is a... meeting of some kind in the city. I would love some more pleasant company during it."

Vivica's heart beat faster at his invitation. He enjoyed her company enough to request more of it? At a meeting? Out in the... out in the city...

She did not often go out of the Alleys. The world out there was wide and unfamiliar, so many people, so many vast open spaces, possibly even fire. But, Nox was requesting her presence. He was asking her to accompany him. She couldn't deny him this, not after everything he had done for her. His long, clever fingers opened the lid on the first box, and Vivica stopped thinking for a moment. She just gazed at the lovely cloud of white fabric in the box, reaching out a tentative hand to touch it; it was so soft. With tender care, Vivica lifted the dress from the box and held it before her, not bothering to conceal the slight gasp that escaped her throat. It looked like it would fit her perfectly, and in a moment of girlish abandon she held it to herself and spun, laughing as the single layer of chiffon spun with her.

"Of course, of course," she heard herself say, her mouth much wiser than her silly mind. "Of course I shall go with you, Nox! Anywhere you want. And this dress... it needs no changes. It's perfect."

She draped it carefully over one arm and folded it softly, setting it back into its box. Half of her wanted to put it on right now, to shuck her lab coat and little shift and trade it for silk the color of cool starlight. But she still had her second gift, and Nox was looking towards it with an even greater anticipation. Vivica undid the simple ribbon with fingers that trembled only slightly. Lifting the lid felt like every Midwinter's Day she'd missed as a child rolled into one moment.

The sound that left her mouth may have actually been a cry as she set the lid down and raked her eyes over the contents of this second box. It was partitioned into four sections, two large on the top and two small on the bottom. In the top left was the most exquisite set of paintbrushes and fine paints that Vivica had ever seen, a full suite of palettes and two dozen shades of red. Two dozen... Vivica lifted one hand to her cheek absently, wiping away tears as she looked to the second compartment on the right. This one was separated into three rows, with the top holding sixteen small metal spikes - one for each metal. Spikes to take a power. The second and third rows also held spikes, but each one lay within a small vial of blood, each vial etched with the annotation for one allomantic or feruchemical metal. These ones granted a power.

The bottom left compartment held a cloth napkin. Vivica tilted her head, pulling it out to reveal that the napkin was wrapped around a set of metal cutlery, silvery and fine. She laughed softly; they had not usually allowed her metal cutlery in the Cognitive Ward, and certainly never a fork or knife. And in the last compartment lay a third box, small, covered in velvet. Vivica picked it up and looked into Nox's black, endless eyes, then opened it.

A flash of deepest red caught her eye, and Vivica was staring open-mouthed at a pair of silver earrings with small inlaid garnets. One of the earrings seemed a little different to the other, as though the piercing itself was larger but hollowed in the middle to allow for something else to pass through it as well. She reached a hand up to her right ear - her only ear - to touch the copper ring that had given her back her insanity. Perhaps an odd thing to want back, but Vivica would not have been herself without it. And of course, she would miss Bennington. This beautiful garnet wonder would fit over her copper earring. She would not have to choose.

"Nox, I..." She looked up at him again, met his eyes at a total loss for words. Tears blurred her vision; she scrubbed them away, not wishing to spend a moment viewing him with anything less than perfect sight. "This is all so wonderful. I don't know how I could ever thank you, I - I... I couldn't possibly deserve such beautiful things. Please, please let me give you something too. Anything you want. You know there is nothing I wouldn't give you, Nox, if I could make it so. I'd give you a whole world of people who love you like -"

Vivica stumbled on this last bit; was she being too forward? Too insistent? Was she being rude? She had already shown him every hidden corner of her mind, told him everything he could need to know, and he had not mentioned it. It would be better for her not to mention it either, then. Of course he knew she loved him - who could not? It was as easy as breathing, as right as the placement of each star. Someone as wondrous as he couldn't help but know that he was worthy of every drop of devotion in the universe, right? Right?

She looked at him, blue eyes drawn into those wells of beautiful darkness which seemed, just for a moment, to reflect a deep green. Vivica smiled at him. Surely, he must know that he was worth everything.

@Voidus

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Lord Everette Meeks;Oasis City;Burned Meeks Estate

 

Everette leaned on his cane before a smashed grand fountain looking up at the statues of his house's and the Ghostbloods founders, Rhazien and Yzabet Montegue. Their statues, and the statues of Solace First and Aurell Faine. Behind them, a smoldering ruin of an estate. Everette still had the money but ultimately useless compaired to the happiness he'd lost the night before. His family, parents, three younger siblings, and fiancee had been burned alive in what the police were calling a freak accident. Everette knew that the someone or a guild had been the ones to murder his family in the fire. The metalurgy company that fueled his familes wealth as well as other groups of interest and mistings and mistborns alike was rife with crooked, greedy and jealous employees. He'd have to look into the company at a later date, something required his foremost attention.

Jarvis Edmund Brandt stood behind him hands behind his back. Jeb, as Everette called him, was the family bulter, and the only other survior of the fire. Under other circumstances Everette would have found it suspicous, but Jeb was a loyal butler hired by the most prestigous housing staff accademy. On top of that Jeb was a pewterarm and a rare savant at that as Jeb's training required him to do everything a bulter would do while burning pewter. Jeb would almost be described as lanky if he wasn't built like a brick wall. Everette turned to face the man.

"The vault is unscathed I assume?" Everette inquired, before taking a hankerchief out and coughing blood into it.

"Yes, I've taken care of the assets. I've taken the liberty to move them to a secure location in Alleycity. Just in case our assassins came back for those valubles." Jeb responded, bring out a small leather bound book. "Everyhing but the book. I've also make several copies of this too. This is not the original"

The book was a detailed compendium on the Ghostbloods, history and list of members. The book was a family heirloom that was handed down by Rhazien through the Montegue family before the name changed into the Meeks. The latest entries stated that Ghostbloods had recently changed their names to Mirrorshades, and was currenly being led by a woman by the name of Tena. While Everette read through the last entry pages which was in his father's handwriting, a carriage pulled up beside them.

"Your carriage awaits my lord." Jeb said, pulling open the door. "I have a few thing to wrap up for you here before I meet you at Alleycity, sir."

Everette nodded and climbed in sitting opposite the chest that was place on the lush cushon seating. The chest was locked with a steel allomantic lock only a coinshot could open. He coughed up a little more blood before downing a vial of steel and unlocking the chest. Inside was aluminum and kelvar suit, on top was several gold bands and braclets Everette had stored his healing in as well a pouches of coins. Coughing up more blood, he stopped store health in his current metalmind, and braced the compartmen as the carriage lurched forward on its way to Alleycity.

As the carriage neared the gate, the window shattered and a bullet pierced his chest and heart. Everette flaired healing, repairing the damage to his heart, but leaving the rest of the alone. The assassinate attempt had to look real. He knocked over the chest and lay sprawled on the floor. Soon the door open and as it happen the driver stood in the light. He grabbed Everette's legs and in no gentle way dragged his body out of the carriage. Everette snagged a loop of a coin pouch as his body was dragged out. His head smashed against the pavement and he healed the most important head trauma, draining the metalmind he'd been storing for months, and like previous wound left some unrepaired. 

"Think he is dead?" a voice asked.

"Shardslayer always gets his kill." another responded.

"Always a first." the men froze as Everette rose to his feet blood running down his face.

He ripped open the bag of coins and tossing a few around the feet of his would be killers. The men surprise wearing off drew weapons, knives, and rushed him. Everette anchored himself to the ground with a coin and shot several others into the nearest man. Flesh and bone breaking as Everette transferred some of the force that would propel him into the air into the push of the coin and allowed the rest to flip over the fallen man. Everette easily downed the other men in a short death dance. Their blood mixing with his. Everette staggered, he hadn't heal all the damage to his body, the adrenaline compensating and keeping him alive. He turn to wards the carriage going for the metalminds on its floor. In the corner of his eye a new line emerged. He anchored himself with a push and with a second pushed against the new line, stopping a bullet that would've connected with his brain. he pushed the bullet back in the direction it came from, not expecting anything. Everette dove into the carriage, grabbing another metalmind healing the rest of the damage to his body.

He donned his armor and helmet, another relic and heirloom of his family, securing his metalminds under the protective gear, remaing coinpouches to his belt and stepped out of the carriage. Sudden movement to his left cause him to shoot a coin into the shadowy figure's shoulder. From them stepped out Jeb and Everette relaxed.

"Never let your guard down sir." the bulter reminded him. "All you know I could be a kandra assassin."

"The likelyhood of that is slim. You are burnig pewter as we speak." Everette pointed out.

"Yes sir but-"

"I'm not in the mood to repeat myself Jeb. I was nearly murdered twice within twenty-four hours." Everette said, taking a horse from the carriage. "Make sure all the assets are moved securely to the Alleycity and then clear all this up with first responders and the authorities. Tell them enough to not look for me, doubt that will work but nonetheless."

He nodded to the older gentleman and swung up onto the horse bareback. Without waiting with a response he urged the horse forward. Difficult as it was he guided the horse out of the gate and towards the Alleycity.

 

Several hours later

 

Everette shot himself over the walls of the Alleycity landing on the roofs of a building in a roll, cloak flowing out behind him. In a sprint he shot himself over alleys and building in search of guilds, information and hopefullly Tena.

Quote

At me of you want to interact with my character :) Everette had nobody to really RP with.

 

@Sherlock Holmes I dunno what you want to do with Tena/Everette interaction if you even want that. Let me know what you want to do. I can edit my post as well.

Subject to minor edits.

Edited by Lord Meeker
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~Ember; Hall of Legends~

Embers head tilted side to side as he listened to Temeria. These were not the Words, but they were still important words, he felt. But it was somewhat difficult for him to grasp the train of logic, of deliberate reasoning. Temeria wanted to make the city better? Why didn't she just do that?

She doesn't know how. He realized eventually, body brightening from yellow to white with excitement that he had understood. Like I don't know how to do some things yet. She needs time to grow.

He remembered that there were things that he needed to learn as well, he hated the waiting that was involved, but the growing was interesting. The breaking and healing and breaking again that formed a change. But Temeria didn't seem to know how to grow just yet, she didn't know what to break and what to heal. That was certainly an interesting question, though Ember of course wanted everything to do both. Break open so that he could see it and then heal so it changed, so that he could break it open and see it again.

"You are special Temeria." Ember began, voice uncharacteristically and deliberately slow. "Special because you do things. Other people want to grow so they wait, or they let things break them and then they heal. Or... I think they do anyway. Hard to remember. But you do things. So now it's hard because you don't know how to do things?"

He paused crackling quietly in thought as he mused on the question. He did not like this, musing and thinking instead of acting. But sometimes it had to be done.

"You're trying to... fix things?" He asked, dimming a little with uncertainty. "Then you should break them. You can't fix things that aren't broken."

@Sorana

~Laurelai; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

Laurelai took a slow breath in as Lita looked over the spike and vial, not so deep as to be noticeable but enough to calm her. Now she just needed something to calm her down. Her mind turned inwards, focussing on lines of light that fell into familiar patterns.

She grinned as Lita's eyes immediately looked towards her after realising the nature of the spike. Laurelai let one of her eyebrows lift slightly as she looked back first at Lita and then to the small vial. Amusement deepening her grin with a little tilt at the corners of her lips.

"Looking for your first victim already? I don't mind if you want to practice a bit." Laurelai said. "Not like you've ever needed brass to talk me into bad ideas before. And I've yet to meet a Soother whose influence I didn't notice anyway."

She had met a few in fact, some terribly obvious and others much less so. But Forgers had enough sense of self to be abnormally aware of other influences on them, and as an occasional spy Laurelai was doubly aware of such. But then, Lita was already a practiced Allomancer even if it was a different metal, and much more subtle conversationally than most of those Soothers had been so perhaps she would surprise Laurelai.

"And if you don't mind I can place the spike, clean up any blood that's leftover." She continued. "For placement... hmm, feruchemical mental metals are... your back I suppose if you want to be discreet? Would be through the ribs though, which is not entirely pleasant. Or... about the hips I suppose."

@ZincAboutIt

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~Lita; Lita’s Apartment, the Alleys~
 

“Offering yourself up to what will doubtless be my first artless bludgeoning of your emotions, are you?”

Lita smiled and shook her head a bit. She was not the only one in the room who knew how to gently tease someone, and the idea of Laurelai watching her fumble about with Allomancy was both mortifying and intriguing. They had both met at the height of their respective talents, and while the blonde had watched her - quite literally watched - receive her pewter abilities this was different.

Training with a physical metal was practical and rather boring to be honest. But to have her first attempts at emotional Allomancy be on someone she both knew and who had a very excellent memory for mistakes… Lita wrinkled her nose. Not particularly compelling. But also, there was no one she trusted more to tell her the truth. About most things, anyway.

Her smile hooked upwards into a slight smirk as Laurelai requested to place the spike herself.

”You’d clean up the blood? My goodness, what a gent. And as for the placement… yes discreet is obviously preferred. I could hardly go about the city with a spike in my eye.”

Lita winced a bit at that, her teeth fretting at her lip for a moment before she recovered her train of thought.

”A spike in the back is always a risk to be seen when one wears the cuts of dresses I occasionally do. Hips seem most appropriate… I don’t suppose you want to do this now? Or later? I’d need to take this off obviously,” she gestured to her velvet dress. “It’s much too nice to go poking holes in.”

@Voidus 

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~Voidus; Alley K-9-1077~

"Nox, I...This is all so wonderful. I don't know how I could ever thank you, I - I... I couldn't possibly deserve such beautiful things." Vivica began, wiping tears from her eyes. "Please, please let me give you something too. Anything you want. You know there is nothing I wouldn't give you, Nox, if I could make it so. I'd give you a whole world of people who love you like -"

Voidus' gaze traced the lines of her face, the lips curved into a smile, the scarring on one side of long-healed burns, and finally into the blues of her eyes. They were unchanged from the Forgery, and even from before that. A strange purity about them that was so very rare in the Alleys, a sincerity of expression that one did not expect amongst scientists and spies.

"Like you do?" He supplied, voice quiet and even. "I don't wish to... I had not intended on examining your mind quite so closely. But when you opened yourself it was somewhat difficult not to notice."

He gave a gentle smile, not quite apologetic but instead reassuring. Lifting a hand to her cheek he dabbed at the slight trail of tears with a handkerchief, moving slightly closer as he did so.

"I regret that there hasn't been more time to discuss this until now." He said. "All that mess afterwards, needed quite some cleaning up. And I didn't wish to rush you, or overburden. You went through quite a trial there."

~Lita; Lita’s Apartment, the Alleys~

"Well the lovely ladies and gentlemen of R&D are not precisely the most concerned with post operative care." Laurelai said with a momentary rolling of her eyes. "Absolutely no respect for clothing there. No qualms whatsoever about staining a dress with blood."

Laurelai herself had simply forged the garment clean afterwards, but not everybody was so fortunate. Aside from which if they took a detour to R&D there's no telling how long it would delay them. Some researchers there were simply efficient but there were a not insignificant number who simply loved to brag about their work and show it off to every set of available ears.

”A spike in the back is always a risk to be seen when one wears the cuts of dresses I occasionally do." Lita continued. "Hips seem most appropriate… I don’t suppose you want to do this now? Or later? I’d need to take this off obviously. It’s much too nice to go poking holes in.”

Laurelai gave an admiring glance over the dress, going so far as to reach a hand out to brush along Lita's sleeve. She absolutely adored velvet. True there were many fabrics she adored, but it had such a unique texture to it and was so eminently soft and touchable. It was a very rare occasion when she entered a Tailors and did not come out with at least a little velvet.

"Mmm, far far too nice." Laurelai hummed in agreement. "I could fix it of course but the thought of even momentary damage might be too painful for me."

Her smile grew to a smirk at the claim, somewhat exaggerated though it was. But they would need something else, something less tragic to be damaged or stained for the moment it would take before Laurelai could repair such damage.

"Do you have something to change into?" Laurelai asked. "Just for the moment. And then I can just... can..."

Her brow furrowed slightly as she followed the chain of thoughts from Lita switching outfits to what Laurelai would need to do next. The moment of calm she had regained was shattered in an instant as she felt a blush creeping up once more, along with a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

Then you can just pull up her hem and stab your friend. In the hips. Can't possibly see anything awkward occurring.

@ZincAboutIt

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~Vivica; Alley K-9-1077~

"Yes," Vivica said, smile widening with joy at the reassuring tone of his voice. "Yes, like I do. Of course I do, Nox."

The closeness of him, how the skin of his hand so very nearly brushed her cheek as he wiped her tears, was intoxicating. Vivica felt herself tremble slightly, both in excitement and something else. Blood rushed to her cheeks, eager to press itself closer to the surface of her skin and closer to his fingers. How fitting, that even her blood wished to be near him.

"I regret that there hasn't been more time to discuss this until now." He said. "All that mess afterwards, needed quite some cleaning up. And I didn't wish to rush you, or overburden. You went through quite a trial there."

She tilted her head at his words, and as she did so, pressed her cheek into his hand. The contact drew the breath from her in a soft gasp, leaving her train of thought muddled and warm.

"It was not... not so terrible," Vivica murmured, wishing she could fall into his eyes; they beckoned with even more dark allure than the skies of the Alleys. Black upon deeper black, on and on forever. "I never worried. I always knew you would fix everything, Nox. I just had to do my part; just had to help."

Her hand, traitorous in its presumption, rose to touch the back of his. "Please, don't regret anything. You're so important - of course you had things to do. But you could never rush me. Your timing is the perfect timing. However fast, or however slow."

The warmth in her cheeks intensified as a drop of shame worked its way through her. Vivica would wait forever, but she did not wish to. Selfishly, she did not wish to wait another moment.

~Lita; Lita's Apartment, the Alleys~

"I'll just be a moment," Lita said, deciding to take pity on her friend and give her some time to compose herself. Much as she enjoyed riling her up, Lita would rather prefer it if Laurelai was in a calm, even state of mind while she performed impromptu hemalurgy. There was a lot that could go wrong at the best of times.

She swept from the room and closed her bedroom door, swiftly unzipping the hidden zipper on the side of the velvet dress and stepping out of it, setting it gently on her bed for easy retrieval later. Her silk dressing gown - that would do fine. She could just part it at the hip, no need for any indignity - real or perceived on Laurelai's part - that could arise from the lifting of a hem or lowering of a waistband. Nevermind that Lita had never felt much in the way of shame over being undressed in front of others. But again, the risks of distracted hemalurgy definitely outweighed the amusement of a flustered Forger.

Lita slipped on the dressing gown and re-entered the sitting room.

"Right, well. Where should I lie down? I'm afraid I converted the lab in this place into another lounge room. Much more useful most of the time."

@Voidus

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