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People you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley


Voidus

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Laurelai smiled, looking over at Lita. The response was almost identical to the one that she had given when Laurelai spoke to her the previous night.

"You've come to the right place then." She said. "We might need to get you something to wear as well though, the blood might put some people off."

Laurelai nodded to the blood splatters across Okame's chest, likely produced when the nearby bodies had been slammed into the wall.

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24 minutes ago, Voidus said:

"But before that, you seem to have recovered nicely from our training." A smile still tugged at the corner of Voidus' mouth, but the rest of his expression settled back into a business-like mask. "Are you ready for the next steps?"

Mac paused at the door.

His training.

His one hardship.

It was the one thing that could incapacitate him, the one thing that could hurt him in the alleys, and it couldn't hurt him unless he used it.

Did he want to push through? Could he push through? His face hardened with determination.

Yes.

Mac turned around to address Voidus, his face displaying no indication of the internal struggle

"I think I am." I hope I am.

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Just now, Voidus said:

"You've come to the right place then." She said. "We might need to get you something to wear as well though, the blood might put some people off."

Okame smiles drily, removing the outer layer of his robe, revealing an identical robe underneath. "This is all I need."

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Ahhhhh I shouldn't have had her get dressed already, now she'll be jealous. Though there's no way Lita can look Alethi, so perhaps it's better this way.

"I can help!" Lita said to Laurelai, voice betraying her excitement, despite her attempts to play it cool. She looked over at Okame.

Well, there's no way he can blend in with anyone, she thought. All Rosharans were rather large but Okame was immense. Still, whether or not he was a fighter, people would think twice about bothering them. 

"You'll get quite a lesson today, there's bound to be all sorts of interesting 'fabrials' about. I remember my first days in the Alleyverse - I thought I'd walked into a miracle with all the indoor toilets..."

@Godhunter

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I enjoy the fact that every just accepts that Okame is wearing multiple versions of the same robe.

3 minutes ago, ZincAboutIt said:

"You'll get quite a lesson today, there's bound to be all sorts of interesting 'fabrials' about. I remember my first days in the Alleyverse - I thought I'd walked into a miracle with all the indoor toilets..."

"Indoor toilets? Latrines? Indoors? Do the Soulcasters do their work immediately, or is the smell muted somehow?"

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The real question is, how big is he really, or is it just layers and layers of robes hiding a scrawny Horneater beneath?

3 minutes ago, Godhunter said:

"Indoor toilets? Latrines? Indoors? Do the Soulcasters do their work immediately, or is the smell muted somehow?"

Lita smirked. "I'm going to enjoy this, I think."

She turned to Laurelai. "Do you have any makeup I could borrow? I'm nearly sure that I look as exhausted as I feel, and if that's the case I look like Ruin itself." A quick glance at the invitation quickened her pulse. "And we should probably get this done sooner rather than later, because I'm pretty sure the event is starting soon..." 

She looked up at the shifting grey sky briefly, then shrugged. "Soonish."

@Voidus

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Just now, ZincAboutIt said:
Quote

The real question is, how big is he really, or is it just layers and layers of robes hiding a scrawny Horneater beneath?

9 minutes ago, Godhunter said:
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Oh, no, he's actually a big guy, he just believes in being prepared and is wearing three of the same robes, shelled like a nesting doll.

Also I feel like Soonish could be made into a TenSoon joke. "Is Ten Soon enough for you?"

 

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Just now, Godhunter said:

Oh, no, he's actually a big guy, he just believes in being prepared and is wearing three of the same robes, shelled like a nesting doll.

Also I feel like Soonish could be made into a TenSoon joke. "Is Ten Soon enough for you?"

 

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We should get to the party TenSoon-er rather than later. 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...
On 3/29/2019 at 1:54 PM, MacThorstenson said:

Mac paused at the door.

His training.

His one hardship.

It was the one thing that could incapacitate him, the one thing that could hurt him in the alleys, and it couldn't hurt him unless he used it.

Did he want to push through? Could he push through? His face hardened with determination.

Yes.

Mac turned around to address Voidus, his face displaying no indication of the internal struggle

"I think I am." I hope I am.

Voidus watched Mac silently for a few heartbeats more before finally nodding. 

"I suppose we'll find out." He said gravely, the small trace of a smile no longer present on his face. "Let's continue then, moving on to Investiture."

There was only one way to find out if Mac was ready for more, and that way was to walk the tightrope once more to see if he fell.

"We'll start with something simple, Stormlight." He said simply, moving over towards his desk and retrieving a pouch of spheres. "This may seem easier in some ways than what we practiced before, but don't underestimate the complexity of what you need to do."

Voidmaking something physical took a lot more power than Investiture did, but Investiture was also a lot more abstract, difficult to focus on specifically. Mac's previous experience with Alleymatics would likely prove useful, but Voidmaking posed a far larger risk to its user than Alleymatics did.

"Now." He said, pulling an infused Diamond mark from the pouch. "Think back to what you did before, the drive, the desire, the motivation for something to not be."

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Whoa is this place an RP now?

Riathor Allomatically pushed off whatever he could see. Doorknobs, screws, grates... Anything. he had to keep moving.

His spren was gone. She left with his sanity, taking what was left of his mind with her. She hadn't even looked back.

He had nothing.

No. He had... too much.

He needed it gone. He needed relief.

He needed help.

Riathor came to a stop, not bothering to push off something to counter his momentum. He just hit the ground and slid forward on his knees, sobbing.

There were... people... who could help him. People who could steal things.

Edited by Gancho Libre
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“Note: The awakened ovens have revolted. I’m our passion to improve our baking process, we let our guard slip. It was only a moment, but that was all they needed. We shut them down, but not before they got Wellings and Stackton. This has greatly diminished my taste for gingerbread men, as well as been a good reminder on why nothing sapient can be trusted. The other reminders are the burns on my face, but that’s irrelevant.”

Stumped muttered as he jotted down the notes onto the wrinkled yellow pad. He was hampered by brace on his wrist and the bandages wrapped around much of the left side of his face. He was walking straight towards a wall, showing no sign that he registered its presence. Just befor he hit it, he smoothly Alleytravelled to an adjacent Alley. He paused to take stock of the new location and, seeing that much of it appeared to be covered in a ghastly grey flame, decided to try another Alley. 

He hopped between several, avoiding were-koloss in one and HR staff in another. He briefly got stuck in an Alley where everything seemed to be made of molasses, but he made sure to keep his notes dry. Frustrated by the continued interruption, he made a big jump and ended up in one of the outer Alleys. This made him nervous, he was practically outside of the endless corridors that he called home. Outside, where there weren’t any Insquidsitors or thermonuclear ovens or REAL bakers. There were terrifying things like normal people, municipal codes, and, Ovens forbid, morality!

He was just about to travel deeper into the Alleys when he heard something it sounded like desperate wails of despair. Being an expert on both despair and wailing, he found himself peeking around the corner to see what was causing all the commotion. 

Wanting to be cautious, he soulcast a welding mask out of the nearby wall and put it on. This use of investiture happened to trigger his peg-leg, or rather it’s glitch. It became enormously heavy, requiring all of Stumped’seffort to move it a few inches at a time. He grunted in frustration and kicked it with his other leg, which seemed to end the glitch, resulting in a tumbling fall. He looked up from the tangled heap of his limbs and saw a man kneeling on the ground and weeping.

“Uhhhh, is this a PR thing? Because I’m not certified for public relations...”

@Gancho Libre

Edited by Fatebreaker
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2 hours ago, Emperor Stick said:

 

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Welcome aboard then!

 

22 hours ago, Voidus said:

Voidus watched Mac silently for a few heartbeats more before finally nodding. 

"I suppose we'll find out." He said gravely, the small trace of a smile no longer present on his face. "Let's continue then, moving on to Investiture."

There was only one way to find out if Mac was ready for more, and that way was to walk the tightrope once more to see if he fell.

"We'll start with something simple, Stormlight." He said simply, moving over towards his desk and retrieving a pouch of spheres. "This may seem easier in some ways than what we practiced before, but don't underestimate the complexity of what you need to do."

Voidmaking something physical took a lot more power than Investiture did, but Investiture was also a lot more abstract, difficult to focus on specifically. Mac's previous experience with Alleymatics would likely prove useful, but Voidmaking posed a far larger risk to its user than Alleymatics did.

"Now." He said, pulling an infused Diamond mark from the pouch. "Think back to what you did before, the drive, the desire, the motivation for something to not be."

Mac held the sphere, and focused on the stormlight.

He imagined the biggest difficulty would be being able to conceptualize the investiture as an object, something that could be manipulated, but stormlight was easy. In his mind it had always been similar to fog or mist. That could easily be voidmade. With that settled he moved onto the more difficult aspect, losing control to force it out of this plane of existence.

He looked at the glowing sphere, specifically the stormlight leaking off of it.

He thought of how this could be used to stop him. A radiant could surgebind with this, use it for power that Mac wouldn't have. He let the fear fill him, the fear of being beaten. It wasn't as strong as it used to be, but there was some. He thought about it more. He wasn't scared of the stormlight, that wasn't an issue. He was mad at it.

It could be used to stop him, force him out of his way. 

And nothing should be able to stop Mac. Nothing could stop Mac. But what about the night next to the Worldspike?

His concentration wavered, he was stopped then, but he was supposed to be stopped. Voidus could easily beat him, it wasn't like a little stormlight. When he learned how to do this, to force the stormlight to not exist, it wouldn't be able to stop him.

When the stormlight was gone, then he would be safe. He would be able to continue.

But what if I fail?

The unwanted thought snuck into his mind like an unspiked cookie at a party.

No, I can do this. Once this is gone, it won't be able to hurt me. I will not fail, it's impossible for me to fail. This stormlight could stop me, a demigod.

Nothing can be allowed to exist that can stop me.

With that thought he refocused on the wispy stormlight, drifting away from the sphere. He focused into the sphere, on the stormlight contained in it, and concentrated his hatred at it. Nothing could could exist that could stop him.

He forced the stormlight into the void with a cold determination. Into that emptiness where nothing exists.

A black spot appeared, and the white light rushed toward it, disappearing rapidly.

Nothing can stop me.

Mac breathed a sigh, calming himself down.

It felt like he went overboard, using way too much power to get rid of the stormlight.

"That was actually not as difficult. As I was expecting. Much easier than getting rid of the ball bearing."

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On 4/9/2019 at 5:17 PM, Fatebreaker said:

“Note: The awakened ovens have revolted. I’m our passion to improve our baking process, we let our guard slip. It was only a moment, but that was all they needed. We shut them down, but not before they got Wellings and Stackton. This has greatly diminished my taste for gingerbread men, as well as been a good reminder on why nothing sapient can be trusted. The other reminders are the burns on my face, but that’s irrelevant.”

Stumped muttered as he jotted down the notes onto the wrinkled yellow pad. He was hampered by brace on his wrist and the bandages wrapped around much of the left side of his face. He was walking straight towards a wall, showing no sign that he registered its presence. Just befor he hit it, he smoothly Alleytravelled to an adjacent Alley. He paused to take stock of the new location and, seeing that much of it appeared to be covered in a ghastly grey flame, decided to try another Alley. 

He hopped between several, avoiding were-koloss in one and HR staff in another. He briefly got stuck in an Alley where everything seemed to be made of molasses, but he made sure to keep his notes dry. Frustrated by the continued interruption, he made a big jump and ended up in one of the outer Alleys. This made him nervous, he was practically outside of the endless corridors that he called home. Outside, where there weren’t any Insquidsitors or thermonuclear ovens or REAL bakers. There were terrifying things like normal people, municipal codes, and, Ovens forbid, morality!

He was just about to travel deeper into the Alleys when he heard something it sounded like desperate wails of despair. Being an expert on both despair and wailing, he found himself peeking around the corner to see what was causing all the commotion. 

Wanting to be cautious, he soulcast a welding mask out of the nearby wall and put it on. This use of investiture happened to trigger his peg-leg, or rather it’s glitch. It became enormously heavy, requiring all of Stumped’seffort to move it a few inches at a time. He grunted in frustration and kicked it with his other leg, which seemed to end the glitch, resulting in a tumbling fall. He looked up from the tangled heap of his limbs and saw a man kneeling on the ground and weeping.

“Uhhhh, is this a PR thing? Because I’m not certified for public relations...”

@Gancho Libre

"I... I need..."

Riathor looked up at the question. A man was standing over him, the occasional... molasses smear on his clothes.

"I need... a spike," Riathor finished. Now that the words were out, the tears stopped coming.

Finally, he could be redeemed.

@Fatebreaker

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11 minutes ago, Gancho Libre said:

"I... I need..."

Riathor looked up at the question. A man was standing over him, the occasional... molasses smear on his clothes.

"I need... a spike," Riathor finished. Now that the words were out, the tears stopped coming.

Finally, he could be redeemed.

@Fatebreaker

Stumped blinked. The man needed a spike. People didn’t normally volunteer for this sort of thing. Well that was easy enough. He patted his pockets until he found one and pulled it out. He examined it for a second, then shrugged. He pulled out a cotton swab with a mild anesthetic and began rubbing an exposed spot on the fellow’s leg. As he worked he addressed the man. 

“You might feel a slight pinch.”

And he rammed the spike into the limb. 

As the spike practically disappeared into the flesh, Stumped realized that the anesthesia was probably insufficient for a regular person. Most people didn’t have experience with being punctured regularly. The man didn’t appear to have any other spikes, so getting stabbed was unlikely to be something he was familiar with until now.

Stumped braced himself for the screams and thought, “Well, maybe his newly gained ability to taste smells will be of comfort to him.”

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