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

[+ZincAboutIt]

Vivica was briefly comforted by the familiar walls and doors of one of the R&D Alleys, and she ran a few fingers along the patina of red and brown with a small smile. Why, just the other day, she'd found a visitor wandering through here; that had been fun. Maybe Vivica could invite Nox by when she found another visitor. The people who wandered in always had a special energy about them, a frantic, glorious staccato beat that some of the more standard experiment volunteers lacked. Vivica loved surprises. She especially loved being the surprise.

Her fond reminiscence was brutally stripped away when Nox mentioned Grey. Grey and Sierra... She had left them. Left them for the fire.

"I-I..." Vivica swallowed, hard, and gripped Nox's hand tighter. "I don't know. I told them - I told them! But they wouldn't listen, wouldn't listen to me. Just kept eating. And Sierra had just had such a lovely experiment too." She felt tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

"It's all there, in the notes," she gave a little hiccup and wiped at her eyes. "Maybe they got out. Grey's so clever, you know. But I had to leave. I couldn't let myself die there, I just couldn't! I just came up with a new recipe today, and I haven't even gotten a chance to test it. I had to go. I had to go."

She started down the Alley, still holding onto Nox's hand. The smell of smoke had managed to wend its way in here, too. Faint, but persistent. Her breath quickened. "The safe place, Nox," she said, fighting to keep herself from screaming. "Where is it?"

@Voidus

[18th Shard]

On 2/10/2020 at 4:10 AM, Sorana said:

Mike frowned, wondered why Xanas knew about Wes, and then just shook his head. He knew, Maybe Snake had spilled some details. He reached into his pocket and held up his device. "I could send him a message." He offered, unsure what to do now. He wasn't quite sure how meeting Wes would help him protect him, apart from the fact that being close to Wes was always a plus. But if Xanas wanted to meet Wes, it meant he wanted to have Mike leave and if Mike was allowed to leave - a slight smile spread on his face. He wasn't stuck here. He could leave whenever he wanted. The thought soothed him and he lowered the device again, suspected that it wouldn't work inside of the alleys anyway. Instead he studied Xanas for a while, tried to remember their conversation so far. It was blurred, his memories had holes when he had lost control completely and he wasn't sure if he remembered correctly. In the end - he owed Xanas, and while the thought left a salty taste in his mouth he forced himself to smile. Without him, he would be lost already.

"When you approached me," he finally started, "I wasn't on the height of things, but - do you need more information about this place as it is today? I could give your a tour or something."

@18th Shard

"You won't get very good reception with one of those, we'll have to hook it to a cell booster. I'll show you where you can make a call. As for a tour, not today. Perhaps another time, one on which I am in a more pensive mood." 

Xanas thought for a minute or two. Mike was certainly not ready for any investiture that came with Identity - his own was probably still too fragile. That rules out any spikes or any of the really fun experiments. Medallions would take too much time for far too little results without compounding, and that was basically the pedestrian way of being Invested. Aviar were far too picky eaters, and spren bonds were unusual without traveling to Roshar, which Xanas was unsure if he could he even do. He felt a pang of loss at the prospect of never again watching the dawn during a  Weeping - the light and the dark mixing in such a beautiful fashion, but stuffed the emotion back into the recesses of his mind. He'd missed far too many Weepings to start caring now. The Dor was finicky in the Alleyverse, but perhaps he could - of course!

"I've just thought of the right procedure for you, to help you and your friends. The Alleys have procured organic tissue samples which, when a current of the proper amperage is passed through them, simulate the capacities of the donor organism. They act in a similar manner to Invested fauna such as those of the Eelokin Islands, though they are uninvested in a technical sense. They do however, draw on an energy source not disimilar to a Shard, though manifestation of extranatural abilities is individually dependent on the genetics of the recipient. It's a non-invasive device, which should be more to your liking."

Xanas paused, realizing he was still talking to a teenage boy. "I believe the colloquial name for them are Epic motivators?"

@Sorana

Edited February 19, 2020 by 18th Shard
Spelling

[+Sorana]

On 19.2.2020 at 5:17 AM, 18th Shard said:

Xanas paused, realizing he was still talking to a teenage boy. "I believe the colloquial name for them are Epic motivators?"

Mike nodded quickly when he finally understood a part of what Xanas was talking about. So many terms he had never heard or maybe never cared to learn about, there was no way to distinguish between them now. But in the end two messages were clear. If he wanted to reach out for Wes he needed Xanas help and the man was indeed offering him power. Mike tried to understand enough of the part inbetween to look for a catch for anything that might lure him into a trap and swallow him whole. But there was none. At least none he could see.

"So..." he started and then lifted his device again. "Let's start with that one." It was the harmless part, and it also diverted his thoughts from the other one. A motivator.

"But why?" he blurted out. "Why would you give me a motivator, why give me these?" his hand closed around the medallions. "I know you said, you want to help, but if you do, why me and why-" his fingers brushed over his spikes again. If he only wanted to help, why did he belong to these monsters that did nothing but ruin other people's lives.

@18th Shard

[18th Shard]

On 2/23/2020 at 0:05 AM, Sorana said:

"So..." he started and then lifted his device again. "Let's start with that one." It was the harmless part, and it also diverted his thoughts from the other one. A motivator.

"But why?" he blurted out. "Why would you give me a motivator, why give me these?" his hand closed around the medallions. "I know you said, you want to help, but if you do, why me and why-" his fingers brushed over his spikes again. If he only wanted to help, why did he belong to these monsters that did nothing but ruin other people's lives.

@18th Shard

Xanas nodded, then warped the Alley into a small library-like room, the two of them standing on a dais. He gestured at the windows. "You should have reception near those." He stepped down off of the dais toward a computer in a niche in the room. "When you reach my age, that question is often answered 'why not?'." He entered a passcode on the computer terminal, opening a word processor. After a moment, he spoke again. 

"I suppose, if the question is why help, then the answer would be that I truly do want this world to be a better place, to use science, not merely know it. Knowledge unused is merely intellectual dross. As for why you," he looked up at Mike, "then I my answer is: I find you intriguing. I think you would do far better with power than many who have it - they desire it. You don't, and so perhaps deserve it far more. But deep down, I suppose it is also because I like you. You remind me of myself as a young man in many ways - a bit rash, with a little bit of power, and in far over your head. But enough of my rambling, go call your friend."

Xanas sat down at the computer. He began to type. Most of the Alleyverse would condemn him for what he was about to do. Even most Denizens would call it an unnecessary evil, but Xanas wasn't taking any chances that someone would destroy this experiment on a whim. His time as Head of the Department of Testing & Analysis had exposed him to things most sane people would avoid at all costs. Xanas wasn't sure if he had a soul left to be corrupted anymore, but he knew if anything had a chance of doing so, it was the being he was contacting now. He finished typing, reviewed his work, then selected the print option, printing three copies. The computer Soulcasted the pages onto the table in front of him. He folded them in half, slipping them into an envelope. It was always best to ensure these things were done in triplicate. He pricked a finger, dripping a few drops of ichor-alchohol onto the seal, then stamped the wax with a hot iron, sealing it shut.

He opened a small Alleyway and stepped through several Alleys before walking into a white room with motivational poster on the wall. THE ONLY WAY TO GUARANTEE FAILURE IS TO NEVER TRY. IT IS HARD TO FALL, BUT MUCH HARDER TO HAVE NEVER TRIED. JOURNEY BEFORE DESTINATION: PLEASE ENSURE ALL POSTAGE STAMPS ARE THE CORRECT DENOMINATION.

The walls seemed to scream at him with slogans and catchphrases. He stopped in front of the largest office. Xanas stopped in front of the secretary's desk. The eldritch abomination lowered it's glasses and held up a tentacle, gesturing at the phone. Xanas glanced around the room. A large poster read: HUMAN RESOURCES: WE AREN'T DOING OUR JOB UNTIL WE PROVE YOU AREN'T DOING YOURS. The secretary set the phone down. "Yes, how may I help you?" 

Xanas held out the letter. "Could you deliver this to the department head? I have ensured it complies with all official memorandum regulations."

"Of course. Is there anything else you need today, sir?"

"That will be all. There are directions on how to contact me within the memorandum, as per usual, but I am afraid I have a sizeable backlog of work, so it may be some time before I am able to respond adequately." Xanas nodded his thanks, then strode back to the portion of the room he had entered from. HR was picky about where you opened Alleys. Most Denizens didn't bother learning where to stand to open them, but the Testing & Analysis Department often received warranty complaints from HR that required testing or demonstration before HR could devour the plaintiff's soul. Those interactions meant Xanas was slightly more comfortable around HR than most Denizens. He wasn't sure, but Xanas suspected Cam had spontaneously came into existence as a corresponding anti-entity to those who argued with the disclaimer in the early days of the Alleys - at least, Cam was one of the few who had the whole thing memorized naturally, without copper of any kind. How Cam had managed to create an entire department was still a mystery.

Xanas stepped back into the library, making sure to backtrack through several Alleys that were notoriously hard to traverse. No need to forget all caution. He though back on the contents of the letter.

To: Cam Nosnetsroht, Head, Department of Human Resources, Dark Alley; Highprince of Pedantry; Filer of Forms; Requirer of Requisites; etc.
Subject: Hemalurgic Experimentation Infractions

Earlier today, a former experimental subject, #A-139115, given name Mike, was contacted by a member of the Dark Alley. Upon contact, the following infractions of general Dark Alley Hemalurgic standard practice were observed to have been committed by the original experimentors:

1. Addition of multiple Hemalurgic grafts without prior study of individual components;
2. Use of a minor as a subject without suitably identifying potential effects of maturation on subject;
3. Lack of appropriate sedation or stability spikes immediately following an operation, continuing until subject's stability has been judged adequate or subject has deceased.

These compounded to result in an emotional and spiritual instability that may have resulted in lawsuits or insurance claims, were it not quickly resolved.

The aforementioned situation has been remedied appropriately, but I am concerned that other similar situations will arise and will not be as quickly mitigated. I would like to request the HR department to identify any experiments undertaken by the same group of researchers and to monitor these experiments for additional infractions. If necessary, please interview those involved. Any questions or inquiries concerning the subject contacted today from persons beside myself should be forwarded to HR before answer is given.

Thank you for your anticipated quick response. 

Signed: Xanas Khaevarin, Head, Department of Testing & Analysis, Dark Alley; Inventor of the Disclaimer; First Denizens, Member, Dark Alley; Censor of Hawaiian Pizza; etc.

Postea Scripta: Due to my long absence from the Alleys, previous methods of contact will be ineffective. Please deposit any materials or responses for me in Alley 7i, which I will check as my schedule allows.

All communications enclosed herein are covered by the Dark Alley disclaimer, and may not be copied or transmitted in any form with prior written consent. Any trespassing of the above disclaimer will subject one to full liability for all future consequences. 

Xanas turned off the computer, then breathed a sigh of relief. He felt a shiver run down his spine a moment later. It was rumored that that particular feeling originated whenever HR spoke one's name, though Xanas wasn't superstitious enough to believe such a thing. It was preposterous. He gathered the aluminum robe tighter around himself, and stepped back toward the dais where he had left Mike.

@Sorana

Edited May 11, 2020 by 18th Shard

[+Sorana]

27 minutes ago, 18th Shard said:

"I suppose, if the question is why help, then the answer would be that I truly do want this world to be a better place, to use science, not merely know it. Knowledge unused is merely intellectual dross. As for why you," he looked up at Mike, "then I my answer is: I find you intriguing. I think you would do far better with power than many who have it - they desire it. You don't, and so perhaps deserve it far more. But deep down, I suppose it is also because I like you. You remind me of myself as a young man in many ways - a bit rash, with a little bit of power, and in far over your head. But enough of my rambling, go call your friend."

Mike stared at Xanas, tried to follow the words he spoke, the way he referred to him, the he liked him. He opened his mouth as if to reply and then simply closed it again, unable to condense his thoughts into one sentence, or a row of sentences that made sense. He deserved power because he didn't want to have it? He reminded him of himself. His eyes remained on Xanas, but the man started to ignore him, sat down at his computer and Mike uneasy shifted his weight to another foot. Go and call your friend. He supposed he should do it.

When he checked his device he saw that Wes had already contacted him and he found his thumb hovering over the image of his name. Call him. Call him and tell him - Mike grit his teeth, remembered the way Wes had run off. Better not force a call on him now. If he appeared too pushy then Wes would run away again. Leave him. He read through the few words again and then looked up, only to find Xanas had gone left him behind.

Surprised Mike paused, hesitantly looked around to see if there were others approaching him, if this was the trap he had been lured into. But so far, it was silent and so he finally touched his finger to Wes name.

I'm in the alleys. He typed hastily. Met some strange people and Xanas took me here. That probably wasn't the best description of his situation, but it had to be enough. Would you like to meet later? Once he let me go? If he let him go that was. I am

He started another sentence when a soft, rustling sound made him look up, whirl around. Nothing, the air was empty behind him, only the room cast in shadows. Mike slowly put his device away and reached for his daggers, body alert. There. Something moved down below. A long strip of darkness, slithered over the floor, slowly nearing the wall, the shelves. Sweat covered his hands when he looked back at the computer, but still no Xanas. His eyes darted back to the shelf where he had last seen the darkness and he frowned, when the darkness was gone. With a grimace he lifted his daggers, in a defensive posture and then slowly moved until his back was to a wall. Heart beating quickly, his eyes darted around waited for whatever it was to appear again. Seconds seemed to strech into eternity until he finally lowered his daggers again. It was gone.

A movement in the corner of his eye made him whirl around and he jumped to the side, instinctively trying to avoid whatever it was. Whilring around he lifted his daggers again, face drawn in concentration only to see Xanas. Awkwardly he straightened and hastily put his weapons aside again, blushing deeply at his reaction. Jumping at shadows. Xanas had to think him a real coward. And yet the memory of that long piece of darkness slithering over the ground, Mike forced a smile on his face to hide the way he was still shaking slightly.

@I think I am here.

[18th Shard]

27 minutes ago, Sorana said:

Whilring around he lifted his daggers again, face drawn in concentration only to see Xanas. Awkwardly he straightened and hastily put his weapons aside again, blushing deeply at his reaction. Jumping at shadows. Xanas had to think him a real coward. And yet the memory of that long piece of darkness slithering over the ground, Mike forced a smile on his face to hide the way he was still shaking slightly.

@I think I am here.

Xanas looked at the daggers angled toward him. Mike slid the weapons back away when he recognized Xanas. Seemed like he was a little jumpy still. 

Xanas turned on the dais to face a small set of dials, and adjusted them. The room was a library of sports, a repository of genetic samples grown in small quantities. Xanas turned the first dial to Earth-Post Calamity, then continued to adjust the minor dials until the sample he wanted was selected. A small trained cremling pulled the small disks off the shelf and placed on the work table in front of the dais. Xanas selected a contact lens and a pair of thin gloves. The lens had a small hole over the pupil, and the gloves had slots on the back of each hand. Xanas placed the tissue sample disks into the motivators, adjusted the amperage, and handed them to Mike. 

"These came from James Coransen, an Epic who titled himself Expel-your-armus. He unfortunately was one of those who felt the movies were all that one needed to see and neglected both to read and to spell properly. His sole personal ability was to summon the last weapon he touched to his hands. He felt it was 'poetic' to kill people with their own weapons. A rival gang leader put an explosive in his own sword and detonated it when James stole the sword, killing him. The more interesting ability James had was as a gifter. He was able to share his power with others by sight, simply focusing on them visually. I'm interested to see how you do with these particular tools."

Xanas set the adjusted motivators on the table closer to Mike. 

"Try them on."

[+ZincAboutIt]

5 minutes ago, 18th Shard said:

Expel-your-armus

Quote

*chef’s kiss* beautiful  

 

[kenod]

13 hours ago, 18th Shard said:

The aforementioned situation has been remedied appropriately, but I am concerned that other similar situations will arise and will not be as quickly mitigated. I would like to request the HR department to identify any experiments undertaken by the same group of researchers and to monitor these experiments for additional infractions. If necessary, please interview those involved. Any questions or inquiries concerning the subject contacted today from persons beside myself should be forwarded to HR before answer is given.

Quote

Given that said Denizen died years ago I doubt Xanas will get something productive from this.

 

[18th Shard]

10 hours ago, kenod said:

Given that said Denizen died years ago I doubt Xanas will get something productive from this.

22 hours ago, ZincAboutIt said:

*chef’s kiss* beautiful  

Quote

@kenodYeah, it was less to get back at them and more to tie up anyone who tries to investigate in bureaucracy and red tape. Essentially, if anyone wants to get info on Mike or what Xanas is doing, they will now get referred to Cam. So effectively, no one will try all that hard to look into it, because HR. 

@ZincAboutIt Thank you!

I'm surprised no one said anything about Xanas's last title - I have nothing against pineapple personally, but on pizza? Some abominations just cannot be allowed.

 

 

[+Sorana]

23 hours ago, 18th Shard said:

Xanas looked at the daggers angled toward him. Mike slid the weapons back away when he recognized Xanas. Seemed like he was a little jumpy still. 

Xanas turned on the dais to face a small set of dials, and adjusted them. The room was a library of sports, a repository of genetic samples grown in small quantities. Xanas turned the first dial to Earth-Post Calamity, then continued to adjust the minor dials until the sample he wanted was selected. A small trained cremling pulled the small disks off the shelf and placed on the work table in front of the dais. Xanas selected a contact lens and a pair of thin gloves. The lens had a small hole over the pupil, and the gloves had slots on the back of each hand. Xanas placed the tissue sample disks into the motivators, adjusted the amperage, and handed them to Mike. 

"These came from James Coransen, an Epic who titled himself Expel-your-armus. He unfortunately was one of those who felt the movies were all that one needed to see and neglected both to read and to spell properly. His sole personal ability was to summon the last weapon he touched to his hands. He felt it was 'poetic' to kill people with their own weapons. A rival gang leader put an explosive in his own sword and detonated it when James stole the sword, killing him. The more interesting ability James had was as a gifter. He was able to share his power with others by sight, simply focusing on them visually. I'm interested to see how you do with these particular tools."

Xanas set the adjusted motivators on the table closer to Mike. 

"Try them on."

Mike observed Xanas as he adjusted the dials, his back rigid as he looked back down towards the shelf now and then. Nothing, there was nothing there. He strained his eyes, left Xanas to his work for the moment and tried to see if he could see anything, make out some movement, but still, nothing changed. Frustration grew, followed by fear. He brushed his hand over his arm, no scales, no fur. Only his own skin, marred by a few scars. And yet, it had been there. He knew that it had, he had seen it. He had seen it with his own eyes.

He turned back to Xanas, careful to keep his back to a wall in case the thing returned and forced a smile on his face. It was no option to leave the motivators on the table, instead he reached out for them, took them in his hands. They were cool to his touch and he was about to pull them over his hands when something Xanas had said registered. "A gifter?" He asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to his chest. "Do you mean I can give them away? Be alone?" Fox, Snake, if it worked, if he really could gift them to someone else, then he was free. They wouldn't fight for control anymore, wouldn't try to claw their ways into his mind, wouldn't kill each other. He would be free and his life, his soul, they would finally be his own again.

Hope blossomed in his chest so strong that he could barely contain it, could barely hold himself back from slipping the motivators on and give them a try right here and now. But he couldn't. Who was he supposed to try them out with? Xanas? The slithering shadow? And yet - if it was true, really true, then he could go back. He could apologize to his superiours, see if they were willing to forgive him. He could maybe look for Bella, see if he could mend that rift and he could go drinking with Wes, spend some time with his friend. And all of that, because of Xanas. Mike found himself smiling at the man, a small shy smile that came naturally to his face while he waited for his reply. Maybe he was right. Maybe for once he had met someone who really only wanted to help him.

[18th Shard]

20 hours ago, Sorana said:

Mike observed Xanas as he adjusted the dials, his back rigid as he looked back down towards the shelf now and then. Nothing, there was nothing there. He strained his eyes, left Xanas to his work for the moment and tried to see if he could see anything, make out some movement, but still, nothing changed. Frustration grew, followed by fear. He brushed his hand over his arm, no scales, no fur. Only his own skin, marred by a few scars. And yet, it had been there. He knew that it had, he had seen it. He had seen it with his own eyes.

He turned back to Xanas, careful to keep his back to a wall in case the thing returned and forced a smile on his face. It was no option to leave the motivators on the table, instead he reached out for them, took them in his hands. They were cool to his touch and he was about to pull them over his hands when something Xanas had said registered. "A gifter?" He asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to his chest. "Do you mean I can give them away? Be alone?" Fox, Snake, if it worked, if he really could gift them to someone else, then he was free. They wouldn't fight for control anymore, wouldn't try to claw their ways into his mind, wouldn't kill each other. He would be free and his life, his soul, they would finally be his own again.

Hope blossomed in his chest so strong that he could barely contain it, could barely hold himself back from slipping the motivators on and give them a try right here and now. But he couldn't. Who was he supposed to try them out with? Xanas? The slithering shadow? And yet - if it was true, really true, then he could go back. He could apologize to his superiours, see if they were willing to forgive him. He could maybe look for Bella, see if he could mend that rift and he could go drinking with Wes, spend some time with his friend. And all of that, because of Xanas. Mike found himself smiling at the man, a small shy smile that came naturally to his face while he waited for his reply. Maybe he was right. Maybe for once he had met someone who really only wanted to help him.

Xanas nodded. "I have honestly no idea how your gifting would work with those particular spikes, but previous experience has shown gifters to be able to gift other Hemalurgic abilities temporarily, so theoretically it should work. I wouldn't suggest trying to gift anything to me, however - in my current condition, I may destroy the ability gifted. I would certainly not receive the ability. To be entirely honest, that is why I suggested you contact your friend. Half of those motivators will be useless without someone to practice with."

Xanas walked off the dais toward a tall, ornate set of doors inscribed with leafs. The doors opened into a large, forested room with a steel ceiling and fruit trees growing every few meters. A few armored statues stood guard, vines draping around their heads and wrapping around their arms. In their hands were sickles, hedge clippers, and other garden implements. Xanas gestured at the tools. "You could try practicing your other ability with these tools. The fruit near the top of the trees is particularly good." Xanas plucked a limafruit and a kathari from a bough in front of him and began eating. "Generally speaking, the more colorful ones are the most ripe." He bit into the kathari, sucking juice away from the incision before it dripped on his robes. White was suitably dramatic as a color, but one had to be quite careful if one wanted to keep it that way. 

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

On 28.2.2020 at 5:46 AM, 18th Shard said:

Xanas nodded. "I have honestly no idea how your gifting would work with those particular spikes, but previous experience has shown gifters to be able to gift other Hemalurgic abilities temporarily, so theoretically it should work. I wouldn't suggest trying to gift anything to me, however - in my current condition, I may destroy the ability gifted. I would certainly not receive the ability. To be entirely honest, that is why I suggested you contact your friend. Half of those motivators will be useless without someone to practice with."

Xanas walked off the dais toward a tall, ornate set of doors inscribed with leafs. The doors opened into a large, forested room with a steel ceiling and fruit trees growing every few meters. A few armored statues stood guard, vines draping around their heads and wrapping around their arms. In their hands were sickles, hedge clippers, and other garden implements. Xanas gestured at the tools. "You could try practicing your other ability with these tools. The fruit near the top of the trees is particularly good." Xanas plucked a limafruit and a kathari from a bough in front of him and began eating. "Generally speaking, the more colorful ones are the most ripe." He bit into the kathari, sucking juice away from the incision before it dripped on his robes. White was suitably dramatic as a color, but one had to be quite careful if one wanted to keep it that way. 

@Sorana

Mike nodded and finally reached out for the gloves, put them on. They were cool to his touch, but they fit him well. He extended his fingers once, twice and finally took them off again and put them into his pocket. "Thank you." He said quietly and perked up when his device made a soft sound.

He wants me to practice with you. But I don't know. Only if you really want to. He typed back to Wes, afraid that Xanas would push his friend to do something he didn't want to. Where are you?

He put the device away again and followed Xanas over to the forested room. He was about to step inside, when he realized what he was seeing and stopped, mouth opening in awe. The trees were large, looked healthy despite everything he had expected in a place like this. "You want me to climb the trees?" He asked, unsure how a hedge clipper might help him to pluck some kind of fruit. Carefully he took a few steps inside, the strong scent of ripe fruit and a forest nearly overhelming. From library to forst in nothing but a few steps. Turning around he made sure that the door was still there, and while it was, it looked strange, as if missplaced, despite the ceiling arching overhead.

Following Xanas example he plucked a brown fruit from the same bough and took a bite. It was sweet, with a hard seed hidden inside. Grinning at its taste Mike found himself pluck a second one and shortly afterwards a third. He hadn't noticed that he was starving, had spent nearly a day running around, fighting, and running around some more. "This is fantastic." He admitted loudly, although he made sure to keep an eye on the guards. You never knew. And he wouldn't be too surprised if they started to walk around soon.

@18th Shard

@I think I am here.

[Voidus]

On 18/02/2020 at 10:12 AM, ZincAboutIt said:

Vivica was briefly comforted by the familiar walls and doors of one of the R&D Alleys, and she ran a few fingers along the patina of red and brown with a small smile. Why, just the other day, she'd found a visitor wandering through here; that had been fun. Maybe Vivica could invite Nox by when she found another visitor. The people who wandered in always had a special energy about them, a frantic, glorious staccato beat that some of the more standard experiment volunteers lacked. Vivica loved surprises. She especially loved being the surprise.

Her fond reminiscence was brutally stripped away when Nox mentioned Grey. Grey and Sierra... She had left them. Left them for the fire.

"I-I..." Vivica swallowed, hard, and gripped Nox's hand tighter. "I don't know. I told them - I told them! But they wouldn't listen, wouldn't listen to me. Just kept eating. And Sierra had just had such a lovely experiment too." She felt tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

"It's all there, in the notes," she gave a little hiccup and wiped at her eyes. "Maybe they got out. Grey's so clever, you know. But I had to leave. I couldn't let myself die there, I just couldn't! I just came up with a new recipe today, and I haven't even gotten a chance to test it. I had to go. I had to go."

She started down the Alley, still holding onto Nox's hand. The smell of smoke had managed to wend its way in here, too. Faint, but persistent. Her breath quickened. "The safe place, Nox," she said, fighting to keep herself from screaming. "Where is it?"

@Voidus

"Almost there" Nox replied.

They were striding along at a faster pace now as he and Vivica rushed forwards in an attempt to outrun what they both knew was behind.

"Just one more Alley."

The scenery changed about them once more, to a narrow alleyway enclosed by two featureless cobblestone walls with not a doorway or a side passage in sight. Just a plain stone floor, the walls covered by little pieces of vines and other greenery that attempted to climb them, and the sky, an endless roiling void above them.

Nox didn't slow his pace, moving forwards while holding Vivica by the arm, ready to pull her forwards if she stopped to look behind them. But she didn't, neither of them did. They didn't need to look to know what would be there, maybe close, maybe farther away, but it would be there, hunting them down as it devoured the stone of the alleys.

"Here." Nox said, pausing at last before an inconspicuous fern that was sprouting from a crack in the corner of the wall and ground.

He pulled the fern to one side to reveal a small hole in the wall, cracks spinning out from the centre to the edges of the area covered by the fern, with the shadows cast from the ambient light of the Alleys it could be hard to notice, but once you knew it was there it was difficult to miss.

"Come on." Nox said, panic creeping into his voice as he wondered how close the fire would be able to get while they waited here.

He darted forwards to the wall, seeming far too large to fit in the small gap that he'd uncovered, but as soon as one fought touched the darkness that lay there, his entire figure was sucked forwards and vanished, pulling Vivica along with him.

They reappeared together, Nox still holding onto Vivica's arm in a panicked grip, but as he saw that they'd arrived he began to relax. He still held on, in case they needed to move again with any speed, but they should be okay here for a time at least.

"Safe." Nox said, relieved.

The word seemed to vanish into the darkness around them, the empty void that extended in every direction without any break other than the two of them who were currently floating in the middle of it. A stabilised area in between the Alleys, as close as one could get to the true Void without being destroyed by it, it had always been somewhere that had relaxed Voidus.

Expelling a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Nox slumped into the weightless embrace of the void. He idly held up the notebook that Vivica had handed him and began to flick through the pages.

[18th Shard]

On 3/1/2020 at 11:33 PM, Sorana said:

Mike nodded and finally reached out for the gloves, put them on. They were cool to his touch, but they fit him well. He extended his fingers once, twice and finally took them off again and put them into his pocket. "Thank you." He said quietly and perked up when his device made a soft sound.

He wants me to practice with you. But I don't know. Only if you really want to. He typed back to Wes, afraid that Xanas would push his friend to do something he didn't want to. Where are you?

He put the device away again and followed Xanas over to the forested room. He was about to step inside, when he realized what he was seeing and stopped, mouth opening in awe. The trees were large, looked healthy despite everything he had expected in a place like this. "You want me to climb the trees?" He asked, unsure how a hedge clipper might help him to pluck some kind of fruit. Carefully he took a few steps inside, the strong scent of ripe fruit and a forest nearly overwhelming. From library to forest in nothing but a few steps. Turning around he made sure that the door was still there, and while it was, it looked strange, as if misplaced, despite the ceiling arching overhead.

Following Xanas example he plucked a brown fruit from the same bough and took a bite. It was sweet, with a hard seed hidden inside. Grinning at its taste Mike found himself pluck a second one and shortly afterwards a third. He hadn't noticed that he was starving, had spent nearly a day running around, fighting, and running around some more. "This is fantastic." He admitted loudly, although he made sure to keep an eye on the guards. You never knew. And he wouldn't be too surprised if they started to walk around soon.

@18th Shard

@I think I am here.

"Of course it is fantastic. I kept this orchard growing in a time bubble for almost two millennia to selectively breed the trees to maximize taste. Some of the species are native to Roshar, and are therefore quite difficult to help adjust to a different climate - it took centuries before they would grow in soil. It's a taste of home for me. You don't have to climb the trees - I was just noting the best fruit is generally up top." He gestured at one of the statues, which began to collect some of the limafruit from a nearby tree.

"The room is large enough I imagine you could do whatever practice or training routine you want. I've never really done that portion of an experiment before without copperminds, so I am not entirely sure how to start in this case. Generally, I believe, developing muscle memory and a general familiarity with one's weapons are among the first steps, but I'm no combat master - it's messy stuff, getting in a fight. I prefer to simply avoid all of that if possible, leave that to those who enjoy being expendable or maimed. I prefer the nice, calm control room. Overwhelming force is a response far more my forte."

Xanas made some notes on the fruit's taste - it seemed as if the gardeners had forgotten to prune appropriately to maximize exposure to the artificial sunlight - which meant an uneven ripening on this particular harvest. What am I still doing here? It's not like me to get so caught up in an experiment. Too many confounding variables if you don't use a double-blind experiment. Maybe I should give Mike some space to try out the motivators. Xanas couldn't deny a part of him wanted to leave it all behind, start over with a new experiment. But every time he considered it, he could feel a weight, a responsibility, that he couldn't escape anymore. Confronting his own mortality, being imprisoned in the Void, seemed to have done what all the philosophy and study of his past life hadn't been able to do: remind him of his own conscience. Storming morality. Can't even try to spike it out any more. Xanas had spent millennia trying to get over this - and he'd thought he had succeeded. He felt Tsarik's handle, remembering the oaths he'd sworn. "I will be guided by logic, not by emotion." Even after years compounded upon years, Xanas couldn't seem shake the chains of his emotions.

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

Mike took another bite of the fruit and gratefully accepted one of the limefruits the statue offered to him. When he took a bite of that one, his eyes widened in surprise and he found himself smiling. Xanas was right, the one's from the top of the trees were so much better. Grinning he quickly finished the fruit and reached out for another one.

"What kind of control room?" He asked curiously and lowered the fruit for a moment. "Is it like a huge room with everybody watching devices and giving instructions for others?" That was how it worked when he was on a mission, but somehow he had a feeling that Xanas wasn't talking about that kind of control room. It was only then, that Xanas other words struck and he continued quickly, without waiting for a reply to his first question.

"So you grew that place in a few minutes, hours?" He turned around his own axis staring in awe at the trees growing around him. Xanas had only returned to this place a short time ago, that was the reason why they were talking in the first place. So if he grew the orchad in a time bubble, then this place was younger than he was, a recent creation. Awed he walked over to a tree and placed his hand on it's bork. "I never expected to find something that beautiful here." He quietly voiced his thoughts. "It's awesome."

@18th Shard

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

Quote

‘Ey, Snip, waitin’ on you  

@Snipexe

[18th Shard]

On 3/19/2020 at 0:40 AM, Sorana said:

Mike took another bite of the fruit and gratefully accepted one of the limefruits the statue offered to him. When he took a bite of that one, his eyes widened in surprise and he found himself smiling. Xanas was right, the one's from the top of the trees were so much better. Grinning he quickly finished the fruit and reached out for another one.

"What kind of control room?" He asked curiously and lowered the fruit for a moment. "Is it like a huge room with everybody watching devices and giving instructions for others?" That was how it worked when he was on a mission, but somehow he had a feeling that Xanas wasn't talking about that kind of control room. It was only then, that Xanas other words struck and he continued quickly, without waiting for a reply to his first question.

"So you grew that place in a few minutes, hours?" He turned around his own axis staring in awe at the trees growing around him. Xanas had only returned to this place a short time ago, that was the reason why they were talking in the first place. So if he grew the orchard in a time bubble, then this place was younger than he was, a recent creation. Awed he walked over to a tree and placed his hand on it's bark. "I never expected to find something that beautiful here." He quietly voiced his thoughts. "It's awesome."

@18th Shard

"The control rooms in combat situations tend to be large rooms with communications equipment connected to the Dark Alley denizens in the fight. I prefer to help with the Alleymatic portion of the fight. If the Dark Alley actually has to involve me in a fight, then the combatants tend to be highly Invested, and so the problem isn't usually the martial capacity of the participants, it involves analyzing the individuals and determining where they derive power from, then disrupting that connection. Often Alleyways made in just the right way can be constructed around an individual, providing a Denizen with Investiture and depriving their opponent of it. I am partial to moving Shadesmar just a micrometer out of sync with the Physical Realm - that tends to cause a temporal displacement of the Investiture by a few seconds. I am one of the few Denizens who could be sufficiently precise with Alleys to be viable to use them in combat. Or at least, I was, a couple millennia ago. That's around when I planted these trees. There are micro-Alleyways embedded near the roots, siphoning crem from parts of Roshar and giving it a trickle of water from the Bright Sea. I kept the original plants in a bendalloy bubble for almost ten years or so, checking in every generation to make sure they were crossbreeding properly. I could have spliced the genetics of the plants together, but there is a certain beauty that you can only find when something is done by nature. It is perhaps one of the few truly peaceful places I have left." And then on a whim, I bring a child here, to practice combat. Xanas felt a twinge of anger, not at Mike, but himself. It had been millennia since he had done joint experiments. Rarely, if ever, had he taken a colleague with him when he left a lab, and so he had never had to adapt his habits to account for others. He took a breath, held it, then breathed out. It was strange how calming it was, in spite of the fact his body didn't require oxygen anymore.

Xanas gestured to a small clearing in the middle of the trees. "I suppose you could practice using those motivators, just keep summoning a hedge clipper or something, repeatedly until you're used to how they work." Xanas walked deeper into the orchard, into a small dark patch, where the leaves of trees above perfectly interlocked to block out the light.  Hanging Tsarik by the sheath on a knot in the wood, he sat down on a small bent tree, one that he had shaped as a bench while it was growing. He bent to the ground, picking up a short branch that had fallen, one that was about 5 centimeters thick, and a deep, dark, almost black, brown. He drew Tsarik and cut the branch into a piece a little longer than his fist, then set the sword back into its sheath. He pulled off his gloves. If Xanas was going to tell Mike to learn his new powers, it would be hypocritical not to do the same. He closed his eyes, held out a finger, and started tracing a narrow pattern along the top of the branch of the wood. As his finger brushed certain points, he began to Voidmake the top layer, carving a simple repeating pattern, a central line, branching off, bending and twisting, winding its way around and around. He continued until he reached the edge of the branch. Xanas might not be able to Forge anymore, but the simple practice was both calming and challenging enough to be soothing. He could feel the darkness inside consuming his emotions, and pictured a small flame sitting in the Void, consuming all the thoughts and worries in his mind. The Flame sputtered, and then went out, the dark spike in his still heart becoming cold to the touch. He continued to shave portions of the engraving by minuscule layers until the pattern was clear - Alleyways twisting in on themselves, spiraling out from a single little hole in the center, a hole that reached deep, all the way to the heart of the piece of wood. No forgery could ever fully capture the shape of the Alleys on its head - there were far too many that obeyed natural laws far too little - but the bigger the Forgery, the more precise you could be. Somehow, the Stranger and Voidus had managed to capture the whole thing on the Worldspike. As you looked down on its head, you could keep zooming in and in, details fractally dividing into infinity, not only mimicking, but defining, reality. Every other Forgery in the Alleys only approximated the original one found there. Xanas opened his eyes and blew on the top of the stamp before remembering that there was no dust. He flipped over the stamp and began carving.

@Sorana 

Quote

For those who have read the Wheel of Time, I found this quote on the Flame and the Void meditation technique from Rand: "'Remember the flame, lad, and the void.' It was an odd thing Tam had taught him. Concentrate on a single flame and feed all your passions into it—fear, hate, anger—until your mind became empty. Become one with the void, Tam said, and you could do anything."

 

[+Sorana]

Mike wanted to ask another question about the plants, honestly curious about this project, about the way he had managed to create these wonderful plants, but when Xanas turned around, started to concentrate on his own powers, as if he was training and so he kept quiet. Training. Someone like Xanas didn't need to train. Maybe he did it, to put Mike at ease, to give him a chance to practice without being judged immediatly.

Slowly he put on the gloves. They felt cool on his skin, but as before they were comfortable and he stared at them for a moment, unsure what to do now. A weapon, first he needed a weapon, and then - give his powers away or get the weapon in his hand. It was as easy as that. Mike picked up a hedge clipper and ran his finger over its curves and blades, trying to memorize it. It was a hedge klipper. Shard, heavy and able to cut through thick branches. In a fight, it would be easy to heavily injure someone if you hit the right spot.

He placed the klipper on the ground nearby and stepped back. Loosening his shoulders he opened his hand, as if he was reaching out for something and then closed it again. His fingers curled into a fist and he grimaced, stared at the klipper. It couldn't be that difficult. It was only a klipper. Concentrating he pictured the klipper in his hand, tried to see himself holding it. Closing his hand again he exhaled frustratedly and grit his teeth. Hand open. Close it. Nothing. Hand open. Close it. Nothing.

"Come here, you stupid klipper." his voice left his mouth in a hiss and he extended his hand to his side. The klipper stared back at him mockingly, not moving a single inch. "I said, you come here." Mike took an angry step forward and pointed at the ground. His narrowed his eyes at the klipper, angry and annoyed by the way it was mocking him. Xanas expected him to succed to deliver, he would be keeping an eye on him, no matter what he pretended to do. If he failed, Mike took a step away from the klipper, turned around to the door and took a small step towards it. If he fled, if he left, then Xanas wouldn't find him, and - with a sigh he shook his head. It was no use. He had no idea what to do and if he was running through the alleys, it would lead him nowwhere. Only to more fear and more pain.

"Xanas." He said quietly and neared the man, but kept his distance. I never learned how to control the animals, I have no idea what to do with the motivators. Only a short sentence, nothing more but a short sentence admitting his defeat. "I-" he started and stopped, the words stuck in his throat. Failure had never been an option. If he failed, he would be hurt, if he failed - swallowing he tried to speak, to explain what had happened so far, but nothing came out of his mouth.

@18th Shard

[18th Shard]

Xanas sat in the quiet stillness, eyes closed, hands brushing over the wooden stamp. Shadows danced across his fingers to a Rhythm the listeners had called the Rhythm of Silence - a cadence bearing only the slowest points of the Rhythm of Peace, muted and flat, as if the tune had been pressed into a two dimensional image. Carvings upon carvings layered across the stamp in shapes that should have been impossible to carve - an emptiness beneath solid wood here, a twist against the grain there. Thoughts appeared in Xanas's mind like sparks at a blacksmith's anvil, extinguished as the oil of the Void quenched them. Frost creepingly crystallized on the ground beneath him, and groans creaked through the tree bark. A voice echoed in the darkness, an annoyance, but not one of consequence. There was no reason to concern himself with the young man muttering inanely. There was only the darkness, the eye in the storm's center, the silence. Leaves rustling, twigs snapping - impeding, like stones tossed carelessly into the still waters, like footprints in a manicured garden. 

"Xanas." The voice, quiet, screamed in the silence. Didn't he understand that he was disturbing nature? The Void surging, pooling around his hands, spinning like sublimating ice into the air around him. "I-" Xanas's eyes bled black, pits where even light feared to tremble, shadows so deep even the natural darkness around him seemed to recoil. The air currents swirling from the boy's breath, disturbing the still air, his body heat leaching into everything he touched like a cancer of thermal energy. Xanas looked up at the child, his left hand crushing the stamp into a smoky powder, burning it out of reality, his right hand reaching out to rend the child's breath from his lungs, to pull his very soul into an eternal abyss and - Xanas met Mike's eyes, and something broke. The darkness rearing inside him seemed to shift. Xanas could feel it, raging, like a river, begging to burst its dam, but Xanas's will reasserted itself. He would not give in to that darkness. It chafed at his restraint, blurring in along the edges of his vision. He reached out to the tree to his right, arcane symbols and Forgeries carving themselves across it surface, the darkness within delightfully draining into his world. His sclera bled back to white, his iris back to the dull grey of a Lifeless. Xanas could feel the Void he had pulled here, into his sanctuary. This is a dangerous well to draw from.

Xanas's head tilted as he looked at Mike. "You're an extrovert, I assume? It seems to be a dominantly breeding trait these days. In my experience, the extroverts never seem to understand how taxing it is for the rest of us to just keep talking." Mike's hands seemed to tighten just a hair, the motivators still on his hands. He didn't seem to be excited; in fact, his posture was more hesitant. Of course. He can't get them to work. "They're not a weapon, Mike. Not really. It's a little bit like an Aviar - you need to connect with it as a part of you. You can't just brute force them into working - you have to find the power, already a part of yourself. Reflect inward, and you'll feel something new and old all at the same time. That's what you're looking for. At least, that's what it feels like to this old, self-aware introvert." 

Xanas closed his eyes again. "If that doesn't work, I can always command the gardeners to try to kill you. Adrenaline also seems to help kick motivators on." He opened his eyes for a second, smiling. "Don't worry, they are slow, rusty old things. Nothing more deadly than tetanus is too likely to happen." Closing his eyes again, Xanas began to breath in and out, slowly. This time, don't start ripping pinpricks in the fabric of the universe.

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

Mike stumbled a step backwards when he saw the pitch black eyes, when the man whirled on him, ready to tear him apart. His hands starting shaking, and while he heard Xanas speaking, the words blended together while he felt his chest contrict and inhaling turned into a chore. Words, more words, an explanation maybe, but he couldn't grasp them, not while he was trying to breathe. Another step back, legs twitching as if they wanted to give up on him, eyes darting to the side, looking for a good place, a place where he could hide and vanish, disappear forever.

Then finally the eyes were closed again, the words stopped and he found himself turning around, nearly stumbling into a tree and running, steps unsure, towards one of the sides of the room. Hide. Mike tried to swallow but his mouth was dry and it turned into a strange cough and he stopped, cowered next to a tree. His hands shook, shook so much that it took him several tries to remove the gloves, to pull them of his fingers and drop them to the ground. Finally he could press his hands again his face, his mouth, his skin slick from tears. Biting down on his arm, he muffled his sobs, his body shaking in silence, his heart beating so fast, it was nearly ripping his chest apart.

Out of habit he reached out for Squid, wished that he could feel his little friend, holding on to his hand. But there was nothing. He couldn't return to the darkness, couldn't see them, dead, Squid was dead. He had forgotten, somehow it had been lost between the medallions and the motivtors and the kindness Xanas had shown him. Wolf was gone, Squid was gone, they were all gone, lost forever and there was nothing, nothing he could do about it. Mike pressed his forehead against his knees, curling up tightly, his body pressed against the tree, silently wishing for someone to find him, to pick him up. For all of this turning into a bad dream, something to forget about in the morning, to joke about and maybe even something to tell his friends about. But nobody came, and nobody would come.

He was in the Alleys. And he was alone.

@18th Shard

[18th Shard]

Quote

This thread has moved into Era 5.

Xanas Khaevarin opened his eyes. A wave of vertigo passed through him as fluorescent lights shone in his eyes. The concrete beneath him was cool to the touch. Xanas pushed himself into an upright position. Sterombeck was kneeling at his side. The eldritch abomination waved a grasshopper-like appendage at him. “Sir, you fell and blacked out. We tried to wake you, but nothing was successful, so we just had to wait it out.”

Xanas rubbed his eyes as if he could clear the darkness hovering like saa in his vision. What a headache this was growing to be. “How long was it this time?” 

“Almost 30 minutes, sir, though we are in a bendalloy bubble, so I am not sure of the time outside.” Xanas stood, dusting off his dark cloak. He’d once used a white one, before he’d realized how easily blood spread. The darker one had lasted him quite a while – you could only see a few of the bloodstains near the hemline. 

“Sir, if you need, I can collect the subject tonight…”

“No need, Sterombeck. I am perfectly fine. We will discuss this issue another time. This subject is important – his bloodline is significantly purer than many of those who’ve recently made their way to this forsaken planet. We wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to acquire him. Besides,” he smiled darkly, “it wouldn’t be right to miss a Day of Rebirth, now would it? Mac was a dear friend. I must honor him correctly if no one else will.” 

________________________________________________

In a dark forest in the middle of a forgotten Alley, a man in a white robe stirred. A pair of metallic gloves lay on the ground next to him. Another pair of gloves sat in the dirt a few meters away. He was alone in the darkness, except for the ancient trees and a dead sword. He opened his eyes. They were black.

[18th Shard]

Quote

Thanks to @MacThorstenson who looked over Cam's dialogue and made some important suggestions on how HR really works (mostly, it requires more forms)!

Xanas stood in a large Alleyway filled with fog. Sterombeck stood next to him with a rangefinder, while another Denizen stood in line with them about twenty paces away. Several other Denizens stood about 100 meters away, holding signs with ever decreasing texts – like a magical ophthalmology exam. The Tineye spike Xanas had procured earlier was proving to be somewhat stronger than the Alleycity standard – outdistancing it in sight by a factor of almost 1.5. Xanas nodded to Sterombeck, who began signaling the testers to move farther back. The day had gone well so far – the new koloss bindpoint subject had lasted longer than their previous tests, surviving almost an hour before his heart gave out, and Xanas hadn’t suffered any blackouts with others nearby. So far, all of his tests on the blackouts had come back negative, but he was currently trying to allow any foreign investiture to completely be removed out of his system to determine if he was suffering some kind of allergy-like reaction to a particular source of investiture.

As the Denizens began holding up their new signs at 125 meters, Xanas felt a tremor run through the Alley. He held his hand up, and Tsarik formed into a long, thin sword. Xanas wasn’t a combat specialist, but many of the abominations that leaked through from other Alleys were unintelligent. An Alleyway formed near the rear of the room, and a man with a bowler hat and a clean-shaven face stepped through. Sterombeck had looked up as Xanas had summoned Tsarik; now he carefully looked down. The Visitor handed a Denizen a small note, and gestured toward Xanas. The Denizen ran over, sweat dripping and hands trembling, and mumbled something about a day off and having the plague. Xanas nodded and unfolded the note.  

Spoiler

Xanas Khaevarin, Head, Department of Testing & Analysis, Dark Alley; Inventor of the Disclaimer; First Denizens, Member, Dark Alley; Censor of Hawaiian Pizza; etc.: 
Your presence is requested for a quick discussion. Notice of authorized Alleytravel is hereby given. All rules, regulations, and OSHA standards have been complied with. Visit our website for more information.
Cam Nosnetsroht, Head, Department of Human Resources, Dark Alley; Highprince of Pedantry; Filer of Forms; Requirer of Requisites; etc.

The note repeated itself twice more. Xanas sighed, then dismissed Tsarik as a Blade. He began to walk over to Cam. “You have a website now? That one’s new. Saves space on the notecard.”

Cam nodded curtly. “We may need you to test some of the user interface software – we’ve lost a couple of potential customers when they tried to summon a representative to them.”

“Is this what you decided to visit for? You could have sent a request through the system per our normal arrangement. I have work to do that is more efficient when I am not receiving frivolous –”

“Xanas, please do not continue that statement. It is based on erroneous judgement and I want to deal with the actual Human Resource issue before requiring you to fill out a conflict mediation form.” That was odd. Cam usually looked for opportunities to give out conflict mediation forms. Cam extended a hand, and a piece of paper materialized into it. It looked like the standard DA stationery for internal requests that HR liked to request everyone use. No one really did. Cam held it out to Xanas. “I do not understand the purpose of this letter. Please explain it.”

Xanas’s heart skipped a beat. I do everything correctly to avoid these kinds of encounters. He skimmed the letter, reading aloud under his breath. “Former experimental subject…infractions of general DA Hemalurgic standard practice… grafts without study, minor, sedation…remedied… Signed: Xanas Khaevarin?” His voice got slightly higher-pitched. Fortunately, Cam didn’t have perfect pitch. Probably. He looked up at Cam. “I never wrote this. I don’t even think we have a subject designated #A-139115.” His pulse quickened. “Where was this found?”

“In a stack of papers delivered to me. My receptionist has no memory of it coming in with my other memorandums. As you noted, neither the subject number or nominal designation have any mention in our records. I decided to come to you directly with this before beginning internal reviews to ensure that we could eliminate you as the malfeasant. May I have your signature on this affidavit signifying that you are not its author?” 

Xanas nodded his thanks, signing the paperwork. “I appreciate that. I can assure you, I would never file an erroneous report. Would you give me a couple of months to conduct some investigations amongst my department before letting this out to the other departments? I’d like to keep this private if possible.”

Cam’s gaze didn’t waver. “I will give you three weeks. If the perpetrator is not identified, HR will begin minimally-invasive inquiries, according to general policy, section 7, paragraph 12, approval date 1000 A.U.A.C.” Cam summoned a form on a clipboard, complete with a pen on the chain of little balls,  and handed it to Xanas. “This is a statement of intent, stating you will fill out the requisite forms for this investigation within the next twenty four hours. I will need a formal notice of assumption of responsibility and a writ of forestallment for HR. The forms are the other pages on the clipboard.” Cam waited as Xanas skimmed the form, then signed it. Xanas always checked for the phrase, ‘Void where prohibited except where not prohibited.’ Because of an insurance claim within the early years of the disclaimer, HR had made it a policy that the validity of the disclaimer and terms and conditions of any form in the Alleys could be revoked upon consensus of at least 2 Denizens on the basis of this phrase; in matters between Denizens, a department head’s approval was required. Xanas had neglected to point out this meant he could negate an HR claim once - you only got one use out of any loophole with HR. Fortunately, he’d never had to use it. Taking back the statement of intent and his pen and clipboard, Cam turned away, and the Alley formed again in front of him. Xanas had always found it a shame that the Alley to DAHR was one of the more pliable ones. “If you need the conflict mediation form, you can send a request through the existing method or use our new support section of the website.” The Alley closed.

Xanas folded the paper and set it in an inner pocket of his coat. He waited to be sure Cam was not returning, then looked at the Denizens in the Alleyway. Xanas breathed a soft sigh of relief. Every time he was forced to talk with Cam, he was sure it would be his last conversation. He breathed in just a little Stormlight to steady his hands, then called out that the department could take the rest of the day off. No one would be able to get any work done anyways, with how shaken up they all were. Xanas was made of sterner stuff, though. He checked to make sure he couldn’t feel any other nearby Alleys as the Denizens made their way to an established corridor. It would be fine. HR didn’t have any reason to expect Xanas was lying, so they shouldn’t have to make any other inquiries. He had three weeks to figure out what this letter was intended to do. That should be easy. No need at all to get HR involved again. Xanas shivered. Temperature controls must be dropping. 

Xanas began making his way back to his own lab. Tsarik reappeared from Xanas’s shadow. “This letter, it is not good, is that correct? This letter, it is from not Mac, the scary one?” Xanas handed him the letter, glad the spren had remembered not to say Cam’s name. “I don’t know what it is, Tsarik, but it most certainly is not good.” Xanas set the forms from Cam on his desk, then slipped his Alleycant pen out and began to twirl it deftly across his fingers. Determining the origin of this letter might require a level of finesse most of his operatives did not have. Fortunately, he knew someone who had had some training in intelligence gathering. He twisted the gemstone to a particular frequency, then began to spin the pen.

Edited February 17, 2021 by 18th Shard

[MacThorstenson]

With the smell of Italian food in the air, Mac ducked out of the restaurant and made an immediate right into an alley. Voidus bless Boston and their high density of alleys. He had been grabbing a quick bite to eat on earth as he had been trying to avoid the cafe's and restaurants most common in the Darker Alleys. However despite his desire to move on, he found the free shelter and infinite expanses too appealing to give up. So instead he compromised, making sure to stick to the alleys that none had visited in millennia as he ducked back and forth across the multiverse, visiting places and eating various baked goods in general anonymity. The life was a lonely one, and often one without a purpose, but he had had enough of people and their purposes in his several thousand years of life. He would continue drifting from place to place until he found a compelling reason to stop. 

[+ZincAboutIt]

Lita pinched the bridge of her nose and set the report aside - she’d re-read the same line five times now. It would do her no good to force productivity when she was this exhausted. 
Maybe I head down to R&D and pick up a wakefulness medallion. 
Then again, she didn’t go down that way if she could help it. Some of the researchers were a little too zealous about handing out “free samples.” 
She sighed, sliding the field report back into her in-tray, and opened the topmost drawer of the elaborate mahogany desk. It still felt like Mac’s desk, still felt like his office. But it wasn’t. It was hers. 
And that made all those reports Lita’s problem.

She chewed her lip and took a slender vial of metal shavings from the drawer before removing the cork and drinking it in one go. Instantly, her Tin reserves doubled, and she burnt a little extra to try and banish her fatigue. It was only mildly successful, with the added effect of making the tag on her shirt feel even more rough and itchy. Irritated, itchy, and still exhausted, Lita stood up and Alleytravelled to the nondescript hallway housing her quarters behind the blue door. She took a moment to set the kettle on, then began pacing.

Almost of it’s own accord, Lita’s hand dipped into her skirt pocket and withdrew the heavy gold coin from the Festival. It felt good in her hand, and she flipped it once, watching the fat disc carve a little arc in the air before smacking back into her palm. She continued to walk the coin back and forth over her knuckles as she sat and waited for the water to boil, watching the light gleam off it’s blank faces. 
She remembered sitting here on her first day as a new acolyte, practicing alleycant with her teaspoon, when a shadow had floated through the door. The shadow of a stranger…

Out of the corner of her eye, Lita saw gleaming golden script race across the walls and ceiling, while at the same time she felt the deep, gnawing emptiness of the Void pulling at her. 
…no, not just a stranger…

Her eyelids fluttered, and her elbow slipped off the edge of the table. The coin flew out of her hand, and Lita reached out instinctively to burn Pewter and catch the coin before it hit the—

Wait. Pewter? The coin plinged off the stone floor and rolled under a nearby settee, leaving Lita with her hand outstretched, feeling both an immense sense of disorientation as well as embarrassment. 
What had that been? She couldn’t burn Pewter - what was she thinking?

Definitely need more sleep. She had been burning the candle at both ends since Laurelai’s initiation, taking what was likely too close an interest in the young woman. She had to be better, had to hold it together. There was an entire Department to run, a city to surveil. She didn’t have the luxury of exhaustion-based insanity.

Lita stood and sighed before slipping her hand under the fringe of the settee and removing the coin, slipping it back into her pocket. As she did, she felt the slightest twinge in her right side, just between the ribs. Lita ignored it, just as she ignored the memory of the shade floating through her door. The memory of an event that had never happened. 

In her pocket, the coin grew ever so faintly warm. 

 

[Voidus]

She crouched down in an Alley, a foolish decision to make even in the best of times, even if you had allies around to watch you and the journey through the Alleys was short, stopping and closing your eyes mid-Alley was dangerous. As she was now, alone with only a single blade and the scraps of cloth that made up her clothes for protection it was beyond foolish. But the headaches had started again. Whisper wasn't sure what to think of the headaches, were they a sign? A punishment? The timing was too fortuitous to be coincidence, always right after she heard Them, the faintest illusion of whispers. A faintness to the sound that no amount of Tin could make audible, it seemed almost that she wasn't even hearing the whispers herself just noticing those who did.

Here a customer and waiter shared an odd look of almost-remembered familiarity before it passed, there a moment of hesitation in what should be familiar routine. They were subtle, so very subtle but they were there, the people who heard the whispers more clearly. She had spoken to several for as long as her excitement and curiousity could outweigh the disappointment, but none had ever been able to illuminate her as to anything deeper. Those people had barely been worth spiking, but duty came before personal opinion.

More and more whispers every day, so why do I still hear only echoes?

She sat their, face buried into her knees and hovering on the balls of her feet, teetering and seeming ready to fall at the slightest push. A gentle breeze drifted through and seemed enough to pitch the tiny figure over and into the darkness of the Alleys but was stopped by a flash of bright silver. Her blade whistled through nothing but air as her head snapped up to see the slow breeze disturbing the ancient dust of the Alleys.

Wind, that's dangerous. And rain?

She glanced skyward, finding no clouds though they did not always accompany rain here. But no drops fell upon her or the alleys around her, only a few drops onto the ground at her feet. Staring at the small patch of damp she tilted her head in confusion, but not every mystery could be chased. She wiped the moisture from her face, though it seemed only concentrated under her eyes and on her cheeks.

Time to move, headache is fading already. She noted to herself, quickly checking the position of her blade and spikes were secured before walking through the Alley. As she walked she pulled a pen and paper out from a fold of ragged clothes and began writing.

Dear Lita,
I would like to petition once again for the instating of a standing request that all members of the DA and in particular operatives of the departments of Counterintelligence and Acquisitions should immediately attempt to remove any members of the public within the region of the city and its environs who dons regalia associated with the celebrated figures of the Festival of Rebirth, and especially those donning costumes denoting the Stranger and the Lonely God. Mounting evidence suggests this invokes displeasure of these entities and could provoke eminent action on their part which threatens not only the wider city but even the Alleys themselves.
-W

That should do shouldn't it? Certainly her previous requests had been denied but this time Lita had to see, she must have noticed all of those people during the festival, the eyes watching from behind the masks and the whispers. Whisper hadn't put any of it in writing but that should just make it more difficult to dismiss the request this time, all of those comments that unheard whispers were not evidence would hold no ground this time.