Character Development Scenes [CDS]

[+Sorana]

Quote

During a conversation with Araha while they waited for Mr Amber to finish his preparations to begin their training.

 

Spoiler

Trust. The word had a certain sound to it, ressonated within herself. Trust. Ran trusted Araha. Araha trusted Ran. They were like sisters, like friends. Damaya looked over at Coru. Coru trusted her. And she had done nothing to earn that trust. Nothing to be worthy of it.

She observed his dark lines hovering in front of her. He trusted her. Trusted her with his sanity, if Araha was right. She observed him, tried to feel something else than fear boarding on hate. Something else than the remembered pain of the beatings, than the screams of war. She associated him with it. Associated him with all the darkness in herself, his lines like a symbol for all she couldn't understand.

When she sat on this building so long ago, when she had spoken the words - she had meant them at that time, saw them as a good guideline for her live.

Life before Death. Damaya closed her eyes when she realized that she had done more than wrongly blame Coru. She had stopped living years ago, let herself drag forward. She had existed, but she hadn't lived. Until now. Until Araha and Ran reminded her of the possibility to choose her own path, to follow her own way. She would do it. She would leave them, she would take her life over. She wanted to be free and now was her chance. If she let that one pass - maybe another one wouldn't come her way. The decision felt good, the darkness shrank back and she smiled. It was her Life. Her Life.

She enjoyed the feeling of the decision for a moment and then forced herself onward.

Strengh before Weakness. That one was harder. She was weak and knew that with every part of her soul. She was a Radiant and yet, she never had been able to stop him. She never had left him because she feared so much, because she panicked at the thought of being homeless again. Because he had convinced her, that she was too weak to leave, to weak to survive. Damaya stepped back when she felt the darkness behind these thoughts. It waited for her to step forward, to follow this line of thought. It's claws were ready to rip into her. She stood there, hovering at the edge and then left. Not now. She wanted to be ready for the training. This thought was easy and although she knew that gave in to her weakness again she die it knowingly.

Journey before Destination. Freedom. That was her goal. Freedom and happiness. She felt like the time stood still while she contemplated this. If she was free on her journey, that was her goal? No, it had to be more than that. Maybe the goal only mattered in an abstract way. What was really important were her steps, the way she decided on. She would reach her destination, because of her steps, not despite of them. There, that felt better. But how to choose a path? How to start a journey in the right direction? It felt complicated. Really complicated. With a sigh she leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe even making a concious decision was wrong. Maybe she had to think smaller, take one step at a time. She kept this thought close for further contemplation and then turned back to Araha.

 

Quote

If anyone is interested in the whole conversation we'll post it in the Waystop thread once @Life&Death

replied there.

 

Edited September 17, 2018 by Sorana

[Cyanic]

Taking place a few hours after the kidnapping of Damaya @Sorana (from the Waystop thread)

Spoiler

Waystop: Afternoon

Araha awoke with a start. What had happened? That was a nightmare wasn't it? Damaya...?

She looked around, seeing Ran sitting over her, a look of concern on her translucent face, but also something more. "How are you feeling?" the honorspren asked.

"I'm alright, what happened? Did I do the thing with the bomb again?" Araha chuckled,

"You... can't remember?" Ran asked.

"No...?" She replied, specks of memory eating at the surface, eager to break the depths, she didn't know from what memory they were. Araha looked around, and saw a tall figure standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall. She was startled, then realized it was only Deras. Wait, what was he doing in her room?

"Deras?" She begun, slightly flustered, "what are you doing in my room?"

Deras didn't answer. Deras always... answered that sparked a memory in her mind.

Her friend was taken.

"No..." she muttered, her face contorting into one of fear, pain, and worry, "no, that was just a nightmare!"

Ran rushed up and hugged her,

"Damaya!" Araha called out, "Damaya, you're still here! Show them that you're still here! You're just messing with me, right?!"

"Shh, Araha, please, I'm here." Ran spoke, trying to calm her sister down who was beginning to breathe quickly again, tears starting to form. Ran gave Deras a pleading look, he disliked his use of one of her brethren's corpse as a weapon, but that was neither here nor there. He helped them.

Deras walked over and put a hand on Araha's shoulder, Ran making way. To his surprise, Araha hugged him. Right now, she was hugging his legs, so he knelt down and allowed her to give him a proper hug, he put one hand around the woman.

Araha didn't care about social norms anymore, she didn't care whether or not she was attracted to Deras, all of this would just cause conflict in her, and she had no time for internal turmoil. She started calming down, Ran floating on the bed and putting a hand on her.

Deras pulled back, and stood. "We can still rescue her, I've brought the letters, and they were clear." He told her, speaking in complete sentences this time.

Araha wiped her tears away. "Good," she said then stood up.

'You need to rest, Ara." Ran told her.

"No. I need to find my friend," she said, walking to the papers.

With that, the depths in her mind froze over completely. No emotions, no memories, only determination.

Will post more scenes from the in-between days later on.

[Cyanic]

Double posting here, sorry, but I'll just include everything in this one post as much as I can.

A few more hours later:

Spoiler

Araha sat in the room, looking over the papers, there was an address, but she couldn't be sure they were the right ones. Why would they just leave these papers in place of their captive? It was likely a trap.

Deras returned with the meal. And placed it on the table.

"Thank you," Araha told him. Though she didn't smile, she was still pleased. She began eating while still reading the letters.

"Findings?" Deras asked.

"Found an address, I want to make sure this is the real thing before we go storming the place, in all likelihood it's a trap." She replied, "if Coru or Damaya were here, we could've just asked them, but no," she said then took an especially rough bite. She tried not to think about what was happening to her friend, even though her depths were frozen over, she just desperately wanted to go to the address and get her friend back, but that's not how reality works, not always.

"If we ever storm the place, I suspect we'd need an army." Ran said, flitting by.

"Yeah, or something just as good." Araha said, glancing at Deras, "you remember the plans I told you about when we met? We'll need your help, Deras, I know you're not involved in any of this, but I doubt I could do this alone."

Deras nodded. "Not problem. Friend need help. I wish aid Araha get friend back."

She'd already suspected earlier that he was like this, rushing in to aid, them despite not even knowing them, and without hesitation too. He wanted to help people, just like her, and this just confirmed that. "Thank you," she gave him a sincere thanks.

Araha told Deras her plan: A suit of armor for him that increased both his offensive and defensive capabilities with different augmentations.

After confirming that the regular perpendicularity was fine to traverse, Araha and Deras then went to the Craftsmen after this. While in AlleyCity, they confirmed that the house was indeed the one where Damaya grew up in, asking a local about the Vulken house.

Dawn on the next day

Spoiler

Araha walked around, taking a break from the research and planning. She couldn't sleep so she just took a small amount of stormlight, just enough to heal the fatigue, and keep her from being fatigued when it ran out. The craftsmen said it would be a few days before the armor got to the Waystop, so she took the time to prepare.

She found Deras practicing forms in the training grounds, he had clothes now at least. His basics were there, but it wasn't refined at all. She walked up to him. "Your form's decent, but you need some more refinement."

Deras turned to her. "Understood," he nodded. "Good morning."

"G'morning," she greeted back, "I can teach you some more about combat."

He nodded, "Will help. Thank you."

She stepped in, taking a combat stance. Deras nodded and took his own. Araha stepped forward and telegraphed a punch which Deras tried to block with, at the last half-second, Araha changed strikes and kneed him in the stomach, making him step back. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt?" She asked, concerned, even with her mind in this state.

"No, it's fine. Am Lifeless, no pain." Deras took another stance.

"Yeah, good." Araha said, "I forgot," she sighed, "in any case, that was a feint, making the opponent think you'll strike there and redirecting with another attack at the last minute." Deras nodded and Araha took another combat stance. "Try to hit me," she told him.

"But--" Deras began to protest but she cut him off,

"Don't worry, strike just once. I can dodge."

"Alright," he said a bit reluctant, then winded up, she saw it coming and dodged to the right, firing off a more restrained jab at the man's chest.

"When you strike, don't telegraph it so much," she demonstrated, her hand going from a resting position to a striking position without a wind up, 'try to go from rest to strike as fast as you can."

They trained for a while like this, Araha teaching Deras different things about combat. She was getting tired, the stormlight had already run out. "That's enough," she said panting, sitting on a rock, "I think I can finally sleep at least."

"Look tired, can carry if need." Deras offered, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Araha blushed slightly, "n-no need, I can bring myself back to my room," she stood up, wobbled, and fell back into a sitting position. Apparently relying on stormlight without sleep didn't actually heal fatigue. She sighed, then swore: "sparks."

Deras actually chuckled, "if not carry, then help at least," Deras offered, standing close.

"Fine." Araha said, using his body as support to stand up. They brought Araha back to her room. It was strange being that close to a chiseled man and not being overcome by embarrassment. She did have more important things on her mind, but she at least finally slept.

She woke up 6 hours later, having an epiphany.

Noon - Night

Spoiler

Araha wore her ring, and kept practicing with it, changing colors first of her arm, then her shirt, then everything else on her, including skin, and hair. She was getting good at larger control, but she still needed to practice the fine controls if she wanted to do what she needed to.

She practiced as she ate lunch, being served by one of the Waystop's spiders. They were cute little things, and she needed as much stress relief as she could. At this point, she managed to blend her hand in to the table, it wasn't perfect though, just a few shades off. If she had Third Heightening, this might be easier, and someone of Third Heightening would likely still be able to see her even like that, so she kept practicing.

She went back to her room, and prepared her plan, the one that she came up with when she woke up, all the while, practicing with the ring. Mr. Amber had provided what she needed, a paired spanreed, and two other communication devices, radios, she believed they were called, and two newer types of spanreed which could write messages before sending them. She set to work, she wasn't a genius, so this would take a while. She worked, while still practicing her ring.

-

She finished after a few hours, miniaturizing one of the spanreeds to the size of her palm, and the reed itself was shortened, but she couldn't find a way to make it even smaller. She attached these to a glove, the reed on the middle finger, and the canvas on the palm. She wore it and scratched her palm with the same hand's middle finger. The line of ink appeared on the other spanreed. Perfect.

She then wrote on the newer spanreeds the address to the house, and that a kidnapping had taken place, tuning them to two different recipients, but she took care not to send it, not yet. She covered the devices to prevent accidental sending and kept them in her pack.

Araha was as close as she could get to perfect with her chameleoning without the Third Heightening, so she worked on the last spanreed. She attached it to a bracer and put a cover over it, this didn't need a pen, so she kept the extra reed in her pack just in case. If all went well, and things don't always do that, this wouldn't see combat before needed. With that, she continued practicing with her stormlight cycling, breathing in stormlight from spheres then willing them back in, she repeated a few more times until it was natural.

Her plan wasn't foolproof, it wasn't even perfectly sealed, but it was decent enough.

She gathered Deras and Ran and told them of her plan. Deras had more questions about the Alleyverse in general, and she answered them.

She will save her friend.

During the nighttime, she spoke with Mr. Amber and he gave her certain pieces of Epic tech which she immediately begun practicing.

 

Edited September 25, 2018 by Cyanic

[Silva]

An explanation for her absence.

Following Pry leaving the other side of the world.

Spoiler

 

Pry hurried down the crowded street, afraid to admit what had happened. She was lost and on her home planet no less. She glanced around hoping to find someone, anyone, who might be able to help her without swindling. It didn’t look very promising. There was a bartender yelling at a bunch of drunks to get moving, an old lady pick-pocketing the elderly man walking with her, and a scrawny boy patting the ground searching for food. And these were the better ones.

She sighed and shook her head. It wouldn’t do to sit around and mope. She couldn’t change the past. She’d thought she’d known the way and not the Vikings not to accompany her, but it turned out that she had been wrong. There was nothing to do about that now. She just had to face the consequences. Muttering a string of curses softly under her breath at her stupidity, Pry turned turned to go and walked straight into someone. A person.

“Hey, watch where you’re headed,” they said. The voice was male and slightly familiar.

“You’d do well to try that yourself too,” Pry retorted back, looking up to see who she was facing. “Vahara? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you that yourself as well too, Prism,” Vahara said.

Pry laughed lightly. “But really, why are you here?”

“Business. I’m a merchant now. A merchant, Can you believe it?” he said.

“Glad you got your dream job,” she said. “I now live in a world surrounded by violent killers. It’s a great life.”

Vahara’s slight disbelief didn’t pass beyond his eyes, he still was as impassive as ever. “That seems like quite the place. You haven’t ever…”

Pry’s mind flashed to Damaya’s mother and she considered saying yes since she hadn’t stopped it. But she understood that she hadn’t and that saying yes would be lying. “No. I haven’t ever.”

“So you never answered. Girl comes back to little town in the middle of nowhere after four years. What’s up?” Vahara said.

“Family business.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” Pry returned to people watching.

“You want a ride?” Vahara asked after a minute.

“Actually, yeah. That would be great,” Pry said.

As he wrapped one arm around her waist, she watched him ready a coin in the other. “Ready?”

“So long as you’ve improved in the past four years.”

Vahara Pushed up and Pry gasped. It had been a while since she’d last been so high up. They stayed still just long enough for her to adjust to the height, then Vahara dropped another coin behind them and Pushed on it. They flew forward and he continued tossing them down. The view amazed her as they rushed past and memories came back to her when she saw some of the familiar scenery.

At long last Vahara dropped down. Pry managed not to lose her balance when she touched down.

“Well you’ve definitely improved,” she said chuckling and Vahara smiled back.

“You could say that.” He shifted his weight. “I’d better go. See you?”

“Yeah,” she said and watched him take back off, slowly disappearing into a just a small speck in the sky.

---

She wore her old soft leather boots. Her worn light blue tunic shirt. The pants she’d gotten for her thirteenth birthday. And as always her four brass hoop earrings that also served as metalminds. Nothing about would look obviously different to the eye - all the changes were below the surface.

Pry took a deep breath and knocked on the door to her house. It looked the same. The same beige walls. The same maroon shutters. The same green grass. The same path. The same morning sun. All the same. So why did she feel so nervous?

The cracked open a peek. Not enough to see far in, but enough for someone to look out.

“Risy?” a small voice asked.

Risy. That was what Dawn had always called her.

“Yeah,” she answered hopefully. “It’s me. Prism.”

The door opened a little more, enough for her to see enough. Standing there was a girl who looked exactly like the Dawn Pry remembered. But she knew that was impossible. Dawn should be eight.

Rusts. She thought. That must be Compile! Last she’d seen her she’d been a squirming baby.

“Risy’s here!” the girl called into the house. Pry heard the sounds of stumbling footsteps coming to the door.

Someone finally pulled the door all the way open. Standing there were nine tan skinned and dark haired kids.

Light, Precious, Freedom, Unity, Brethren, Dawn, Lineage, Compile I think, and that must be Warmer? She ran through all their names in her head.

“You came,” Light said and unexpectedly hugged her.

“I did,” she said. “Where’re Mum and Fa?”

“At Ofrira’s,” Light sighed. “They’ve been there more and more lately.

Pry nodded and stepped inside. Everything was exactly as she’d remembered. Wooden coffee table, crib with a child in it, lumpy sofa. She unconsciously went over to the crib and peeked inside.

Eon. her mind told her. He was small and scrawny.

“He had senioper?” she asked Light, recognizing the symptoms.

“Had,” she told her. “Not anymore. Now he’s just sick without reason.”

Pry bit her lip. Something was about to break through that would make everything make sense, she just knew it. But what was it?

“Can I hold him?” she said.

“I won’t tell Mum if that’s what your asking,” Light said, smiling slightly. “I’ll be in the kitchen with the others.” She hurried off.

Pry leaned over and picked up Eon. She caught his head as it threatened to move in a bad position. He should have been able to support his head at this age, but it seemed he was too weak.

“What’s up, little guy?” Pry said, sitting down on the couch. “What’ve you got there in your hand?” She held up his little arm, hand clenched in a fist. “Not gonna show me?” This earned her a hard look from Eon. “That’s a family glare, you know that, right? I can give one too.” She returned his gaze, smiling. “We get it from the same place.” Pry turned his hand over in her hands. Something glinted from inside. “Rusting Stormfather,” she cursed, “if that’s doing what I think it’s doing, I’m not even going to feel bad for cursing in front of you.” She quickly pried his fingers open to find a gold ring. Closing her eyes, Pry snatched it away from Eon’s skin, prayed she was right, and listened closely. Eon’s breathing evened and he became more steady.

Well wasn’t that all anti-climactic. She thought to herself and put Eon back in his crib. Now what? He must have Snapped from the senioper like most of us do, but how did he get his hands on this? Pry looked at it closer. It was unfamiliar to her and the design was not native to Scadrial. That meant one thing. Someone had known her brother would be a Bloodsealer. And someone had wanted her family to do everything they had done. Someone had wanted to get her away from Damaya and Araha and the other side of the world. She just didn’t know who.

“Hey Light?” she called fingering the ring. “I need to go, but first there’s some things I’d better to tell you. And do you know anywhere good to safely store a ring for a while?”

 

 

Edited November 28, 2018 by Ookla the [your choice]
Removing the bold

[+Ark1002]

My new double character development scenes! This may take a while, it will work though!

Spoiler

Darkness swirled in his soul. He could feel it, pulsing within him. And he loved it. Blood. I want blood. He smiled, realizing he had just the thing. Adrienne! He smiled, warping his body into the cognitive realm. He could feel the faint shreds of the Singer who had lived in it. But that pain wasn't enough. He cut through the cognitive realm, smiling. Fire rushed through his veins, and he flew, smiling. He got to an Alley, which got him to Roshar. He ate a passing Cryptic, going into the alleys again. He smiled, flying in the way he wanted this time. And he was on Scadrial, for the first time in over sixteen years.

~~~

It had took Ambrosia a long time to get back home. She had gotten lost in the alleys, and nearly got killed a few times. She fingered the cut on her neck. An inch over... she smiled, stepping out into the cool Mist. "Scadrial, home sweet home!" She walked down the deserted streets of the ghost town, in the roughs. She tapped steel and burnt pewter, running quickly, with enhanced balance and strength from her steel. She was impatient. Run, run, run. Her heartbeat and her breath became everything. She ran, just trying to get home.

~~~

Hellbent looked around, grimacing. Should I visit Sharken or Adrienne first? He smiled, quickly making up his mind. I want to fight again. He flew through the air, thinking again of how helpful his surgebinding was. I will get my crew back. Koloss blooded, like me, one a half-blood picked up later. I'm the least of the group, but they will accept me. After all, I'm the only reason they exist. He was going fast, and realized he could see a shape looming in the distance. He rolled and landed on the side with a thump, and started to walk to the nearest window. He heard shouting from within. He rolled to get in faster, falling through it to the wall, past gray and blue skinned men and women, all with looks of shock on their faces. He smiled walking along the other wall, then lashed himself to the ceiling. "CAPTAIN NIGHTSHADE HAS RETURNED!" They murmured among themselves, one with a suckling child said, "We have expanded, Nightshade, sir. This is one of our three ships, and not the one with the captain." Hellbent smiled at that. He wasn't truly Hellbent any longer, that mental weakness had stopped. It had left with the death of his first body. A body which Dusk held. I will get it back. But today is not that day. He looked around at them. "Does anyone have paint?" One stepped forward, with blood reds, a deep black, and a brilliant shade of violet. He smiled, making them land the ship. "They will come to us when they realize you are missing." He smiled, walking out on the outside carrying the paint. He began to paint between his legs, a large insignia of a red dragon wrapped around a black tree, violet on the claws and the eye, with a purple and red mix sky behind them. He took a vial of gold from his pocket, mixing it with the black paint, and wrote words beneath it. "I christen thee the Dragonmount." He smiled, looking at the body he was wearing. He had chained the Parshendi, leaving it in a cave, and took one of his new bodies. It would have been more fitting with the old.

~~~

Ambrosia sat in the cold night, in the village. She stared at the burnt down building remains, a few bits of charcoal and some stone, the location where they thought her father had died. He did die here. Anthony Nightshade died on this spot. Hellbent isn't my father, and never was. She felt a trickle down her face, and sniffed, wiping it away on her purple Sentinel robe. She smiled, and began to draw in chalk. She had brought extra, just in case. White streaks, lots of them. A tan circle, with gray smudges. Red and violet lines. She made art, and she loved it. By the end, she was crying, but from the beauty of it. She had brought back her father, if not in truth. She concentrated, sending it a message with her mind. Be him. She transmitted memories of then. Stay here. She added waterproof spray, then watched, tears streaming down her face, as it acted like her father had, walking around smiling, laughing. She watched, and cried. Finally, she left, knowing she wanted to figure out her life before the next step. She walked into the first soothing parlor she saw.

~~~

Hellbent smiled as they came through the mist. Two ships, each with people hanging from the sides on long strands of rope and looking around. He smiled, as one saw the ship, shouting. The ship came down, getting ready to land, and the other quickly followed. He saw Adrienne leaning out of the window, and smiled. They landed quickly, and he walked up, the Koloss-blooded trailing behind him. Adrienne leaped out, walking to them. "Anthony? You seem... younger." Hellbent smiled, breathing in. No, not Hellbent. I am Anthony again, Anthony Nightshade. "Yes. I have been blessed by the survivor. I died to a feruchemist, but I'm back. I am the new Survivor, the Survivor of blades. The third in the line." Adrienne looked uncertain. "You weren't like this in the old days. You were more... carefree. And you promised you would never return in your last message, 20 years ago." Anthony smiled, rushing forward, and flipped over her head, putting a knife to her throat. "True, but could I have done that in the old days." She looked back, frowning. "No." He smiled at her, though it came out more maniacal this time. "I have learned things you wouldn't believe. Come, and I will tell you of them." They walked into the ship she had came from, Anthony with his arm around his shoulder, both laughing.

~~~

Ambrosia smiled as she laughed, talking with her childhood friend, Jeffry. "So, how's my mom?" He smiled. "She's fine. Interested in seeing the sky once more?" She smiled, and he put his arm around her waist, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Ambrosia yelped as she flew upwards, then she saw the city. Tears fell towards the ground from her. Then they started to fall. Her skirt flew upwards, and Jeffry smiled as she screamed. He pushed forwards.And she shot out again. Finally, the fell slowly. He chuckled slightly, and she punched his arm.

~~~
Anthony smiled as his fleet took to the air. He rode the gargoyle, a huge ship. Flanking it was the Dragonmount and Shai'tan. He smiled at that. The Dragonmount had been a merchant ship. He had restructured it to drop bombs. Shai'tan was painted pure black. It had been made for speed. He had installed riles. Lots of rifles. He had also added a few gattlings. He smiled as they flew. This was his fleet. He was the shorter then all but one, but they feared him. He was why they were alive. And they believed him a god. None knew of surgebinding, elantrian powers, teleportation. He smiled as his fleet chose a newly established town in the roughs, small. Shai'tan fired, killing people in the streets. Hellbent teleported down, spinning aluminum blades through person after person. He smiled as their remains fell, then teleported back up, signaling the dragonmount. A bomb fell, going up and out, almost no damage to the ground. The town was obliterated, except for three. One woman, two men. He smiled going back down. He pulled out a fabrial. The woman had broken her arms and a leg. Quickly fixed. The first man was bleeding out through a massive gash in his forehead. Again, not troubling. Then he came to the last. He had a broken arm, and a few cuts.

 Oh yeah, and his body from the waist down was laying in small pieces around him.

Anthony knew he had to do something, he needed three. So he inserted a spike, making the man able to drain stormlight. He gave it to him, and watched as he healed. Then he pulled out the spike, healing the cut. He dropped the spike, drained it was no longer of any use to him. It fell, falling down a small crack into blood from the man, unknown to Anthony. With a smile, he pulled out a peice of metal from his pocket. It burned his hands, so he healed. He pressed it to the man's forhead, leaving a deep brand. The Ghostblood symbol, with a flame in the top, a bird in the right, a skull in the left. "Leave. Tell them what happened here. The Darksoul is back, like he was all those years ago."  The man bowed, kissing his feet, then ran, crying slightly. The woman reached out. "My lord, may I go with him? He is my husband." Anthony turned, looking at her. "No. I can't more of my servants leaving me. Besides, I have... plans for you." She whimpered, but stayed. He turned back to them at last, now that the other had gotten far enough away. He picked up the brand again, burning it deep into them. He healed it slightly then. He pulled otu black ink, inking it in until the partially healed wounds glistened black. He smiled at their screams from the ink. "I have two types of servants. From every conquest, I will release one survivor. He only gets a brand. The others... the others get ink. Afterall... you are my slaves." He had the Gargoyle land. Adrienne stepped out. "Hey, Nightshade. Who are these?" He smiled. "Slaves." He walked them in. He turned to the man. "You are to be foremost among them. You are first. But for that, I must be sure of your loyalty." He smiled, pulling out a few spikes. Impaling him through the heart and his neck, then once through an eye, giving him steelsight, weakly. The other two were loyalty spikes. "You will die if you remove the loyalty spikes, but I order you not to. If you manage to overcome it and do not pull it out, you will be forever shunned for your spikes." The man no longer had a though of resisting though. He threw himself to the ground at Hellbent's feet, crying and bowing over and over. Hellbent smiled. "As leader, you will get a few more tattoos. Stand up, and don't flinch." The man stood obediently. Hellbent pulled up his sleeve, and brought out red ink, tattooing veins up it, all the way to his shoulder, including his hand. Each vein was now highlighted in bright red. the man was unflinching, but pain showed in his eyes. Hellbent began to bandage his arm, to make sure it healed properly. Then he took out purple, making a golden flame on his palm, and a black vine going up his arm, with purple flowers. He smiled. "You are leader. Now rest. You get one week before work begins." He turned to the woman, who stood there, shivering, looking at the spikes visible sticking out of the mans neck and head. "Oh, don't worry. That won't happen to you. I can't ruin a beautiful face," he said, leading her towards his bedroom, "Now, I will show you what use you have to me."

~~~

Ambrosia smiled as she climbed into bed. She was in a hotel, and she had spent to day catching up with friends. She drew a line of forbiddance, in front of the door, on the window sill, and a few around the outside of the balcony. She didn't want someone to come in. Then she began going through her yoga poses, thinking of what to do next. I came to visit mother, but I find myself dreading the visit. I was able to mourn the death of my father, and I had fun with my friends. But I don't think I'm ready to visit her. She climbed into bed. I'll decide in the morning.

~~~

Hellbent smiled. Thirteen servants, four villages. Four were allowed to escape, but nine are still mine. Three female, four male. Well, if you count the first village... four female, five male. What now? He considered. I need to remove the traces of the old me. The human me. My wife needs to die.

~~~

Anthony Nightshade stood in front of the house where he would get his slaves. Home of the Acute family. Beige, maroon roofs, fairly big, but it didn't suggest the size of the family. He lashed himself to the wall, walking up to the roof. He needed to catch them by surprise. He had brought a few pebbles, he threw them at the window. It resulted in a loud clatter. Then he punched the window, breaking it. He healed the cuts and ran to the top of the building.He heard murmuring, and saw movement from his perch. He smiled, they were all at the window. His enhanced senses told him each voice. Female, older. Female again, fairly old. Female, seems to be about the same age. Male, slightly younger. Two more, both about the same in voice maturity, a female and a male. Male, small, probably just beginning his schooling. Female, young, likely not in school. Another is crying, probably the toddler. And that leaves the baby. He smiled, and summoned his Shardblade. Stabbing through the ceiling, he quickly cut through, then dropped into the room with a clatter. "Who is it?" "I'm scared." What the he-" "Language!" "Heck!" "Rusts, he's weird." "Please!" "Fine, fine. So, who's he?" "Should we call the constables?" Anthony looked at them, confused. "Okay, SHUT THE HELL UP." The quited, looking at them. He noted how they act. "What are your names?" They stayed silent, and he hefted his sword, casually walking closer. A girl, probably seven or eight, gave him a hard glare. "My name is Dawn." She pointed to the oldest, then the next, going through them by age. "Light, Precious, Freedom, Unity, Brethren, Dawn, Lineage, Compile, and Warmer." Compile glared at her, though groggily. "Why'd you tell 'im?" Hellbent smiled, and lashed two of them towards him. Warmer and Dawn. He grabbed them by their necks, smiling wildly. "You will comply, or I swear on the Survivor's spear, I WILL KILL THEM BOTH."

~~~

Ambrosia shifted in her sleep. Nightmares. Hellbent holds a knife over her head. It plunges downward. She screams.

~~~

Compile gave a start. "How'd you do that?" Anthony grinned, summoning his shardblade as a claw near Warmer's neck. "Ironpulling?" Anthony put the claw a bit closer. "Warmer..." The toddler began to cry, and he smiled. Even Compile was silent, though she continued to glare at him. "I'm magic. Now, will you be good?" She nodded, though reluctantly, along with the rest. "So, is anyone else home?" As the babies wailing grew louder, he began to shout. "AND REMEMBER, IF YOU LIE, THEY'RE DEAD!" Compile looked pained, but shook her head. He let go of Dawn, who scampered back to the rest, all now wide awake. "So, what are you gonna do with us?" Anthony smiled, putting up his hand, and started to cradle Warmer, who was crying. He made cooing sounds, but he wouldn't shut up. So Anthony pulled a knife out of his pocket. "NO!" He smiled, and handed it to the baby. He gurgled contentedly, beginning to gnaw on the handle. Compile rushed up, angry. "You'll hurt him!" He smiled turning around, and brushed the hair from Compile's eyes. "He'll be fine." He grinned as the baby played with the blade, getting close to cutting himself, but not quite ever reaching the point. "Won't you? You'll be a good boy, right?" The little one giggled. The little one giggled and gave him a long hard look. Anthony smiled, looking at them each in turn. They weren't just similar in terms of coloring, he realized, the resemblance held true down to the same exact cold stares on their faces. This would be fun. Then he turned, walking over to the crib. He set down the toddler, who sat down with a thump and continued playing with the knife. He loomed over the crib, then reached in, grabbing the baby, who was glaring up at him the same way Compile had. Supporting his neck, he grinned, a wolfish grin. "These little ones have much potential. Maybe not slaves at all..." The other looked at him confused, and he turned. The eldest stepped forward, hesitating slightly. "Is that what we are then? Slaves?" Hellbent turned around. "Oh yes. There will be slightly different purposes between you, but yes, that is exactly what you are." He stepped forward, bringing out the brand. Three interlocking diamonds, a skull in the left, a bird in the right, and a flame at the top. He grabbed the eldest's chin, bringing the brand to her forehead. And there was no one to hear the screams.

~~~

Sweating, Ambrosia whimpered. Her mother screams as she is whipped by Hellbent. Ambrosia cries, looking at her pain.

~~~

Anthony Nightshade smiled, looking back at the children behind him. Eight of them, he had left the toddler and the baby back on the Gargoyle. "Light, Compile, Dawn, come here." Light whimpered slightly, Dawn gave him that special Acute glare, but they came. The beating had finally gotten through to them. "You are going to see something today you will not ever forget. This will teach you not to mess with me." He smiled, gesturing the others to stand nearby. He then lashed them ten times into the wall, so they couldn't even stand. Then he turned, walking up to the door. "Welcome to the home of my wife."

~~~

Ambrosia woke up in a sweat. Fine. I need to visit mother. She dressed, in her Sentinel robe, and grabbed a taxi. As she drove, she thought. She married Hellbent... no. She married ANTHONY. Anthony Nightshade. But... he was still a criminal... she stepped out of the taxi, and she thanked the driver, handing him a few Crysts. The driver started, but she wasn't paying attention. "Keep the change." She walked down the street before he could object. As she approached the house, she cried out, seeing the quivering children hanging on the wall. "What the hell? Don't worry, I'll get you down."

~~~

The three Acute's quieted as they walked through the hallway, normal. Except for the paintings. Gruesome deaths, a skull, a man being tortured. The list went on, going from starvation to being eaten alive by rats. And it just got worse. By the end, all three were shivering. But Anthony didn't notice a thing. He smiled, opening the bright white door. "Come on children. We're going to have some fun..."

~~~

One of the children whispered to her. "You can't. We can't, you won't be able to. It's too strong." She looked like the oldest, or at least equal to another, but somehow didn't quite fit. As Ambrosia looked closer, she saw the tattoo. THen she realized it was 3D, engraved. A brand as well? She looked around, and saw all five bore the mark. "I'm going inside to try and find something to help. Stay here." One looked on the verge of saying something, but stayed silent, instead giving her a long glare. So she walked up and opened the door.

~~~

Anthony stood there, looking at his wife, the three children confused, but also staying back, scared to cross him. Their punishments for disobedience had been harsh. "Hello, Anthony." Her voice was cold, so cold. He smiled. "I believed you dead, along with my daughter." His smile grew, becoming maniacal. "So, why are you back? And who are the children?" He smiled walking forward, putting out his arms as if wanting a hug. Then he punched her in the jaw, sending her to the floor with a stream of blood and a tooth flying out." Compile started forward, giving him the Acute glare. "Why'd you do that?" He leered at her, then turned back. Suddenly, he heard a shout. Ambrosia...

~~~

Ambrosia heard a grunt, and ran down the hall, ignoring the morbid decorations in the otherwise ordinary hall. She reached the open door, and saw a figure looming over her mother, who was on the floor. "Why'd you do that?" She looked to the side and saw a child, like the ones outside. Then she realized the man standing there was Hellbent. A shout of surprise left her lips before she could stop it.

~~~

"Ambrosia, glad you could join us. How are you?" She glared at him, and he smiled. Similar to Compile, really. "I've heard you're a pacifist now. How... disappointing. Why'd you choose that path?" He smiled, raising his hand. "Nevermind, don't tell me. My opinion of you is already low enough." Then he turned picking his wife up by the neck. He summoned his shardblade, cutting through her arms. They fell, gray and limp. He smiled, leaning in, as Light screamed. "You are going to die." She looked at him, panicking. "I'm going to kill you." She screamed, and her grabbed her, slamming her into the wall. "Goodbye." He grabbed a knife, and cut into her, then pulled out her bloody heart with his hand. She crumpled, and he smiled, turning back to Ambrosia and the children. Light looked to be going into shock, Compile was hyperventilating, and Dawn was crying badly. And Ambrosia. Ambrosia he couldn't tell whether she wanted to kill him or run away.

~~~

He killed her. He KILLED HER. HE KILLED HER!!! Emotion raged through her, anger, fear. "Goodbye Hellbent." Fear won out, and she ran, sprinting, past the children, past the door, down the hallway, past those on the wall. She ran until she could run no more, then collapsed in an alleyway, crying. He killed her...

~~~

Nightshade smiled, leading the three out of the house. Then he pulled out his last loyalty spike. He looked down. Which one... He stood in front of the house, and the others, then smiled, moving to plunge the spike through Light's heart. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said from behind him.

He turned to find himself face-to-face with a man around the age of nineteen.

"And who are you?"

He received a look from him that resembled the classic Acute glare, but not exactly. The kind of imitation that comes from being around people a lot. It was then he noticed the man glancing around, as though only now realizing the situation he'd walked into.

"Rusts and ruin," the man cursed. "Pry really wasn't kidding when she said people there were violent and her siblings needed someone to watch them always. Who the hell do you think you are?"

He grimaced. "I'm your doom. You're a distraction."

"Get the hell away from those children."

Hellbent looked at them. Ah. This may be another way to ensure their loyalty, and keep the spike, just in case. "Fine.Come closer then."

He glared, suspicious. "Why should I do that? I don't trust bastards like you."

"Ah, so that's it." His looked on, his insides bubbling with rage. But on the outside... he was ice. "You will come because otherwise these children are gone. Forever."

The man stepped forward then. "Release them."

Hellbent smiled widely, thought the smile never reached his eyes. "No." He grabbed them man, kicking him in the stomach. Then he snapped his neck, throwing his head to the ground in front of the children. "You resist, this happens to you." They didn't glare this time. They just had horrified looks on their faces, like if he had killed a family member. Only Compile had the slightest bit of resistance in her face. But it was still there. He grimaced, then led them back toward his ships. "I have... uses for you."

Credit to @Silva for the Acute family

Done!

Edited December 10, 2018 by Kidpen

[+Sorana]

Lena arriving in the Alleycity for the first time. I didn't want to necro 16yp, and I guessed it would work here as well. (Somehow it messed up my formatting, but when I try to edit it, it looks fine... sry for that)

Spoiler

Lanera stepped out of the perpendicularity and stared in awe at the city lying in front of her. It was gigantic, it was large and it looked so different from any city she had ever known. She continued to follow the merchants, staring wide eyed at her surroundings. Buildings reached up into the sky, so high, that she had to look up to them, some even made of metal. She tried to understand this city, to grasp it. Thousands of Alleys, connected by a highway, strange vehicles moving around, the people, their clothing was so different and their language. The merchants waved her on, and so she followed, overhelmed by this city. When they arrived at a contor, they handed her her bag and then turned around, started unloading their wares and ignored her. She had arrived.

Lanera wandered aimlessly through the streets and only slowly realized, that coming to a foreign country, might not have been the best idea she ever had. The sun was setting slowly and still, she had no idea where to spent the night. She followed those looking poorer to a part of the city and then headed deeper into the district. Some buildings still were collapsed, others more or less repaired. She looked for a place to sleep, and found none. She was new here, and new meant she was in danger. Still she stayed calm, she would find a way. In the end she took some pancakes out of her bad and added a new poison on them. She needed to think of a plan, she needed some ideas where to go and what to do. A grin spread on her face as she looked for someone to give a free pancake. It didn't take long and she found a man, who had a nice bag full of food with him. She could use that food. Smiling she walked over, asked if she could join him. His mistrusted her at first, then let her sit down. A woman, probably helpless, at night, some thing tended to work. He handed her some of his bread and she handed him a pancake and then slowly started eating the bread. It didn't take long for him to start shaking and she put the bread into her pocket and started taking some notes, observed, how he first tried to cover the symptoms, and then finally he slumped, falling unconcious. Lanrea stood up and reached for his bag, when a staff intercepted her.
"Nice performance."
a cool voice told her, and she turned around.
"Thank you."
she replied smiling. It had been a nice performance. Rarely one fell unconciously in such a controlled way.
"Will he survive?"
the man asked and she nodded.
"I think so. But I'm not entirely sure. I didn't knew his body weight exactly and it's a new poison."
proudly she looked at the man.
"But it worked well. Started out slow and then hit him square. That's great."
The stranger nodded.
"And you have more of this?"
Lanera only smiled and touched her head.
"Here I have tons of different poisons for different situations. Just tell me what you need and I'll make it. You pay half of it now, half of it when I'm finished."
He laughed and stepped closer.
"And what should stop me, from taking you with me and torturing your recipes from you beautiful redhaired head?"
Lanera answered his glance his a stare of her own.
"That's easy. Because I could be selling them only to you. If you have the money to pay me regularly. And I could make some new recipes, fitting your individual needs."
He looked at her an then nodded.
"One month. And then we'll talk again."
Lanera laughed.
"Of course. I need a place to sleep."
He threw her some keys.
"I'll expect you to find something as soon as possible."
Lanera caught the keys and nodded.
"As soon as you pay me."
He narrowed his eyes at her, seized her up again.
"What should I call you?"
"Lena."
"Don't betray me, Lena."
his voice was cold, but she only laughed again. She had a place to stay and she got paid for poisoning people. The journey here, had been worth every single chryst.

 

Edited December 12, 2018 by Sorana

[BitBitio]

Quote

Most important scene I'll write in the entire era.

Spoiler

Kane landed on the battlements of Stormward Keep, Arrow swooping down alongside him. The Alleystorm was raging about them. Over the deafening wind, he called a sentry over to him. The sentry wore a red coat like many of the Sentinels, which contrasted with Kane's blue one. 

"Welcome back, sir!" the sentry said, saluting. Kane nodded.

"Do you happen to know where the Regents are?" Kane asked.

"Yes, sir. They convened some ten minutes ago in the highest tower of Coatra."

"Thank you, soldier." Kane said. He descended into the courtyard of the keep, briskly walking to the Transporter's room, which was accessible with a keycard. Once inside, there was a button that allowed silimatic energy to flow into the room and swap the room and its occupants with an identical one in Coatra City. 

Kane strode to the door and slid his card into the slot. The door opened and Kane walked into the room. He stepped up to the control panel and activated the room. Bright lights glowed at the corners of the room, and then dimmed. Kane turned and opened the door. He stepped out into the military headquarters in Coatra. Kane stepped over to the stairs and climbed them up to the top floor. He exited and walked to the tallest tower. He entered, followed the stairs, and entered the council room where the Regents sat around a table, debating.

"When my father finishes his duel," said Zaren, "I-- oh, Father, you're here." Kane smiled and sat down in the chair at the head of the table.

"So what's the debate?" he said, looking at the Regents. Zaren, Orren, Cayza, Sudo, Tikor, Mik, and Omin.

Cautiously, Tikor started.

"General, we were discussing who gets command of the Sentinels when you are absent." 

"Why, Zaren, of course!"

"But why, sir?" asked Orren. "Because he's your son?"

"That's part of it, but also because you all have strengths, and leadership is Zaren's strong suit. Tikor is stealthy and smart, Sudo is wise, Cayza is good at improvising. You all know this." Kane said. Tikor looked at Cayza uncomfortably.

"General, there has been some... dissent. in your absence." Orren said.

"By who?" Kane replied.

"You know of Dusk and Walker?"

"Aye."

"They got us into a major war. We lost massive portions of our army, and the enemy wasn't even defeated." 

"Who was the enemy?"

"Hellbent." 

Kane started. 

"And also, a pair of troublemakers took over our outpost in the Newcago Court."

"And they were?"

"Ahmose and Vita Steelblood."

Again, Kane started. Hellbent had returned? The Steelbloods were attacking?

Kane stood.

"Tell me everything that has happened since my absence, in chronological order."

***

Kane slumped in his seat. He had missed so much.

A messenger boy entered, holding a letter bearing the T.U.B.A. seal on it. Kane opened it. On it was an [REDACTED] from [REDACTED] to join the T.U.B.A. [REDACTED]. 

Kane pocketed the letter, to save it for later.

He turned to the Regents.

"You are all dismissed, aside from Zaren and Orren. Tikor, please begin scouting the Steelblood operation, see if you can regain our outpost."

Everyone except for Zaren and Orren left. Tikor saluted and dashed out.

"Orren, where are Regents Declan and Pratt?" Kane asked. Orren frowned. 

"General, they were killed in war, along with the rest of the Elites." Orren said, his voice cracking slightly.

Kane stared the Natanan man in the eyes. 

"I'm sorry. Please, take some time to recover."

Orren nodded and left.

Kane turned to Zaren.

"You got your wound from the war, I assume?" Kane said, gesturing to the bandages."

Zaren nodded. "Father, a Sentinel did this to me. He went rogue."

Kane's brow furrowed. "Did you now this Sentinel?"

"I thought I did..."

"Was he behaving strangely?"

"Yes, almost as if... he were possessed."

Kane nodded slightly. "That was, according to my sources, Jonas, a dockworker-turned-DA. Did you kill him?"

Zaren nodded.

"Very well."

Kane turned to go. 

"Wait!" said Zaren.

Kane turned. "Yes?"

"Father, why do you run the Sentinels the way you do?" 

Kane froze. He contemplated the question for a moment, two moments, a minute, two minutes. Finally, Kane bowed his head and seemed to back away.

"I don't know." he said quietly.

"I know you better than that."

Kane backed away further. "Yes, you do, son."

"Tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Zaren asked.

"For reasons I cannot divulge." 

"Father, I'm second-in-command of the Sentinels. If you can't trust me with Sentinel secrets, you can't trust anyone."

Kane sighed and sat in his chair.

"Here we go."

Zaren sat up eagerly.

"The reason I run the Sentinels the way I do is not to maintain order like one might assume. I do it to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Zaren nodded. "Go on."

"Unfortunately, my way has issues. People disagree. And so, I make them agree, or try to."

"How?"

"I have been working for sixteen years to form an order of primarily Windrunners."

"And how has that worked out for you?"

"It has not. Everyone who I attempt to make a Windrunner must not have Investiture before. And yet everyone fails on one of the first three Oaths. Sam Oaks of the Hushlands couldn't put strength before weakness. Pau'akal of the Horneaters couldn't protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Remember Areseon of Teod? She couldn't protect those she hated."

Kane sighed.

"Almost everyone has failed and killed their spren." he said.

"Except for..." he said.

"You?" Zaren said.

"No. I cannot achieve the Fourth Ideal as a nature of my, ahem, condition."

"Then who has reached it?" Zaren asked.

Kane exhaled a deep breath. "Her name was Mercy."

***

Orren's friends were gone. He could still remember every detail about their recruitment to the Sentinels.

***

It was Day 6 of the Seven Day War. Hundreds of abominations had been unleashed upon the city. Kolossals, Sentries, Coppercrows, and Seekradors were the main attackers against this small Natanani pocket. Orren, then called by his first name, Davad, wielded a sword and fought. The other men who had taken up arms were Natanani or Alethi, but several refugees of many nationalities had joined them, and united, they stood. Davad swung in an upward arc and jumped, beheading a Kolossal on a fluke. He stabbed Seekradors, slashed at Coppercrows, struck Sentries, and slammed Kolossals. He was trained in dueling, but at his heart he was a scholar. 

Davad tripped over a dead Coppercrow, and a Kolossal Commander took advantage, charging forth. Davad panicked. he couldn't fight this! he fumbled his sword and tried to run. But he was too slow. The monster slammed him and raised its blade. It brought the blade down. Davad squeezed his eyes shut. But instead of his demise, a loud CRACK! of metal meeting stone reverberated. Davad opened his eyes.

An almost superhuman figure, adorned in a majestic blue coat, stood face to face with the beast, a ruby sword in hand. The man let out a yell, and drew a pistol from his coat and shot the Kolossal. The thing screamed in rage and raised its sword, slamming it down. The regal figure met the blow and shoved the terror back, then stabbed it in the face. It collapsed. The man turned and held out an amulet of some sort.

"Wear this." he said.

Davad took it and put it on. 

"Listen." the man said. "Make sure this sphere is infused. As long as it is, you'll survive. Understood?"

Davad bobbed his head.

"Good." Then, the man shot away, into the air.

So Davad fought. The amulet, he found, granted him the powers of an Elsecaller, including healing through Stormlight. By the time the war had passed, most of the village was alive.

"The Black Crusade is going to nuke the city!" the man from before shouted. "Gather everyone!"

Ten minutes later everyone was gathered in a circle around the man and another, shorter man.

The first turned and asked the second: "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Kane."

Kane nodded. "Harmony bless you."

The second man disappeared in a flash of light, and everyone else stood near a tower.

Kane smiled sadly. "You're all safe. If only it didn't need to come at such a price."

Later, Kane extended the offer for each man who fought to join the Sentinels. Each one accepted. 

The amulet had caused Davad to draw attention from an inkspren, and he later became an Elsecaller, with most of the other men following in his footsteps as squires.

But the others, Orren's best friends, had always called him Davad. 

To honor them, he would now go by Davad.

***

"So, where is this Mercy now?" Zaren asked.

"Gone." Kane replied, softly.

***

Mercy Lashed herself away from the Shade and summoned Tayara, or Tay, her sprenblade. She summoned it as an axe and cut at the Shade, sliding a silver cover on the axe as she swung. She killed it, then dashed back to her safe zone. She panted. Kane could always do it better.

Forget Kane. I have work to do.

***

The Silent Seeker quickly slipped into the outpost, stabbing the guards as he went by. He entered, and sat down in the chair by the hearth.

Keep taking over outposts tomorrow. Ahmose's voice whispered. 

After all, the Silent Seeker was no more than Lord Cobalt in a new guise.

THE END.

Quote

Ah, it feels good to write Kane again. 

 

[Nohadon]

Wow It took me a while to find this thread, like, three searches.

Anyways, here's some stuff right after Devaan died.

I'll post more later, and a full story when Era 3 starts. But for now, Bolded text are Devaan's thoughts.

Spoiler

Devaan woke up.

Wait what. This is strange.

Who thought that?

I did.

Who?

Me.

You?

Me.

It took Devaan some time to realise that wasn't his own voice inside his head.

I'm insane again, aren't I.

Wait a second. Devaan? You bastard.

Oh for the lord ruler's sake. Hellbent?

We're alive, and In the same body

Oh.

Oh indeed.

Devaan opened his eyes and looked around. They were in an alleyway, of course they were. He stood up and silently thanked the gods he'd been resurrected with clothes on as he stepped into the streets of the city. He smiled, recognising where he was.

This is gladiator city, isn't it Devaan?

This is my city.

Behind you.

Wait wh-

Spoiler

Hellbent opened his eyes. He was chained to a chair, anger immediately flared up.

Easy there, we'll be out of this soon.

Really now? They chained me up. 

It's interesting, this is probably for the underground arena, we aren't in any real danger. Just take a look around

Hellbent surveyed the room. He was in a small circular room walled with stone. The floor and ceiling were also made of the same material. No metal anywhere, not that it would matter.

We don't have any magic, do we.

Not that I can tell. No breaths, no allomancy, no feruchemy or stormlight. 

damnation.

Yeah.

A hidden door opened and a tall, wiry man entered.

"Welcome, fighter. You have been fortunate enough to be legally selected as one of the five new fighters in the arena. Survive for 3 months to earn your freedom or a permanent place among us" He said in a whispery voice.

"I'll rip you limb from limb" Hellbent replied shortly.

That's it. My turn.

Devaan tried to take control of the body, Hellbent fought back. The body immediately froze, paralysed.

What are you doing!

You'll get us both killed!

damnation it Sheonar! We can't move like this! we'll have to take turns. 

Fine. 

"Get up" The man told Hellbent.

"Take these chains off of me and I will"

The man clicked his fingers and the chains were immediately released. He walked out and shut the door. Stormlight flooded through the room, lining the walls which now could be seen to be mottled with gemstones. Weapons hung on racks everywhere.

Take the hatchets, staff and shortswords for me.

I'll take the claymore for me.

Hellbent sheathed the lighter weapons and then hefted a giant claymore over his shoulder. He walked to the armour rack.

That armoured coat looks worth a try.

Hellbent agreed, putting on the coat. A door opened behind him, leading to what looked to be a sandy colosseum.

The arena. 

Hellbent stepped out into a giant circular arena. four other fighters also stepped out.

It's good to be back.

Spoiler

The four other fighters were all different. One was a large man who quickly grew in muscle mass as he hefted a battle-axe in each hand. Another was a young woman who began to glow and float into the air, a sword forming from the mist in her hand. Another man, tall and wiry, looking to be in his 60s stood with his back to the arena wall, a hand crossbow in one hand, a dagger in the other. The final fighter was a middle-aged woman with scars lining her face, she drew two shortsword.

I'll go for the big one

First rule of arena fighting, don't initiate. If you do, everyone else gets to see what you can do. 

I can take him though.

He's at least a brute, probably a compounder. Moving around that much muscle is going to tire him out, leave him till last and he'll be easy pickings

Fine, what do you suggest I do?

This is the barrel of gunpowder, all people are waiting for are a spark.

What?

See the girl who's floating? Probably a wind runner, she'll be the one to start the fight. My bet is she goes for the brute. Watch the guy with the crossbow. He'll take potshots during the fight.

Ok.

The wind runner then dove directly at Hellbent.

Ok so she went for you first

Duh

If you kill you get disqualified.

Oh.

Hellbent spun and raised his claymore his claymore, going for a cut. The wind runner spun and her shard blade snaked out, trying to catch Hellbent in the leg. He darted backwards, hitting the flat of his claymore in the back of the wind runner's head, sending her flying away.

Can I have a go?

Be my guest

Hellbent closed his eyes.

Spoiler

Devaan opened his eyes and dropped the claymore. Taking two hatchets from his belt. A crossbow bolt whistled through the air, he blocked it with the hatchet blade before throwing it to the man with the dagger. The air shimmered around the man before the hatchet turned into water.

Devaan whirled on the wind runner, throwing his other hatchet towards the brute before taking his staff from his back. He ducked a swipe that went straight for his neck before pole-vaulting on to the wind runner's back. She spun in the air while Devaan jabbed at her with his staff. Once in the neck, twice in the back and once in the shoulder, the fourth strike drove the wind runner to the ground where she skidded across the arena's grounds, kicking up gravel and clouds of dust as she hit the ground, Devaan quickly knocked her unconscious before turning to the older woman with scars on her face. She grinned and unsheathed her shortswords. Devaan drew his from his shin sheath, going for an overhead strike that was quickly blocked by a cross of swords. Devaan fainted left but the woman was experience, she went straight through once she saw the hole in Devaan's guard. Steel pierced flesh.

Dammit! That one hurt

You don't say

Devaan ducked away from the follow-up strike and felt the wind whistle again, he rolled away. The Woman kept her eyes on Devaan, making a crucial arena brawl mistake.

There's always more than one enemy.

A crossbow bolt struck her in the neck, she froze and her eyes glazed over as the toxin did it's work, knocking her out cold.

2 down, 2 to go.

The brute came at Devaan next, seeing him as a target, Devaan closed his eyes. 

He's all yours

Spoiler

Hellbent opened his eyes and dove to the side, barely dodging the brutes attack, a hole was left in the ground where he had been standing. He immediately ran for his claymore, picking it up and using it to parry another crossbow bolt.

The Brute walked towards him, giant battle-axes in each hand. He went for a lazy swing which Hellbent ducked and responded with a thrust, the Brute laughed as he dropped his shoulder into the blade. It lodged itself into Hellbent's opponents shoulders. Hellbent shrugged and put his fists up, entering a boxer's stance. 

Soon Hellbent was scoring solid hits. The brute seemed to tire quickly. Hellbent finally managed to get a hit on the nose, he felt the bone break and the brute abandoned all fighting form and covered his face. 

He's open

I realised.

Hellbent hit him with an uppercut and closed his eyes.

Devaan kicked in the brute's kneecap and closed his eyes.

This is working

Yeah.

Hellbent slammed his knee into the brute's eye.

Devaan sent a palm into his solar plexus.

Hellbent punched him in the throat, Devaan followed up with a kick to the chest, the brute was down.

One left.

The older man smiled at Devaan and loosed another bolt. This one turned into fire as it flew, Devaan moved to the side and rushed the man, dodging and weaving through the storm of crossbow bolts until he drew his dagger. Hellbent jumped on him and Devaan tackled him to the ground. Hellbent head butted him and kneed him in the stomach. Sending the man out cold.

Both Devaan and Hellbent stood up. Adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Three months in here, you say?

Yes.

We could get used to this

Agreed.

Devaan will be back in Era 3

Edited January 22, 2019 by Nohadon

[Sherlock Holmes]

Hey, guys. 

I think it's high time y'all know why Tena is so scared of being pregnant, and why she takes it for granted that her baby is going to die. 

I only wrote this because @Karnatheon brought it up in the TUBA chat, so you can thank him for that.

Spoiler

Eight hours.

Almighty above, had it really only been eight hours?

Tena was still gasping out her breaths as she lay in a hospital bed. The room she was in was sterile, cold. She wasn’t cold, though. She still burned on the inside, and her eyes were closed tightly. She was really tired. Why couldn’t she just see the product of all her labor, after those nine months and…

And…

She still wouldn’t think about it. Wouldn’t think about how much it had hurt, how she’d been crying, how the man she’d once trusted as a friend had betrayed her. So much. Hurt so much.

How could she get away from the pain, from everything? She just wanted to die. She didn’t care how, it just had to happen.

But if she had her baby, then… maybe she could move on and just care for it. She could be a good mother. She’d do whatever, if only it could distract her from the horrible holes in her soul, and the tearing that even thinking wrought in them. And maybe her baby could even patch up some of those holes. Maybe.

She relaxed a little and opened her eyes to look at the nurse standing next to her bed. The woman had a strange sorrowful expression on her face, and Tena wondered what that meant.

Then another nurse walked into the room, her face matching that of the first. What was wrong?

The second nurse spoke. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your child was stillborn.” Her voice was wrought with sympathy.

What does “stillborn” mean? “What’s that mean?” Tena asked the nurse. She’d heard that word somewhere, hadn’t she?

The nurse’s face temporarily lapsed into surprise, then back. “It means, ma’am, that your child is… uh…” She looked at the other nurse, as if searching for a word.

“It means that your child is no longer with us,” that nurse said softly.

What does “no longer with us” mean?

And then it hit her. She knew what stillborn meant. She’d heard the word from a motherly old woman speaking to a weeping younger woman, one who held a dead baby close to her, on the street, surrounded by blood…

No… no. “Can-- I see-- it?” Tena asked. She was shaking. Oh, Almighty above, let it not be so. Please let it not be so. One of the nurses opened her mouth, but the other silenced her colleague with a look, and the one who’d entered the room earlier left.

The other nurse knelt by Tena’s bed. “Ma’am, I’m so, so sorry.” Her eyes seemed to understand. Had she given birth to a-- stillborn… baby as well? No. Tena wouldn’t believe that her baby was dead until she saw it. She wouldn’t believe. She couldn’t…

The door of the room opened again, and the nurse who’d left walked in with a gray bundle in her arms, followed by a weepy-looking doctor. Maybe it had been the first miscarriage he’d seen. But I didn’t miscarriage. My baby is fine, they’re all just like this for no reason. My baby is fine. She kept repeating those thoughts in her head as the nurse walked forward and gave Tena the bundle, who straightened up and looked down at her baby.

It looked completely normal, but its eyes were closed. “Girl or boy?” she asked the air in general as she looked down at her baby.

“It was a girl, but ma’a--” the doctor started, but Tena cut him off.

“Not ‘was’. She is a girl.” Tena leaned over and gave her baby a light kiss on its-- no, her-- forehead. The baby’s skin was cold. “Why is my baby cold?” Tena asked the nurses, scared. What had they done to her child?

“Because it’s dead, ma’am,” said the nurse who’d tried to comfort Tena before, her voice forced.

“No!” Tena demanded. “No, my baby is fine. She’s fine.” She was starting to cry. As one of the nurses reached for her, Tena wrapped herself around the baby, holding her close to her chest and breathing hard. They wouldn’t take her baby away, she wouldn’t let them, they’d just end up hurting her.

But eventually Tena was crying so hard that one of the nurses managed to take the baby, and Tena fell back on the bed. “No, please, don’t take her away… please…” Tena gasped, but couldn’t summon the energy to stand up and go chase the nurse. She couldn’t get any energy at all.

Dead. My baby is dead. Something else occurred to her. The Almighty killed my baby. He killed my baby. That bastard. She couldn’t even get up enough energy to be very mad.

My life is all over. Everything is all over.

Also, hey @Ark1002!

[+Ark1002]

Hi!

[Grey Knight]

Here's something me and Silva have been collaborating on. My viewpoint first, followed by hers.

Spoiler

Unforgiven.

Crow had captured a family of witch-born, nearly enslaved them to his will. When the Deathwing had struck at his fortress, Crow had beaten Brother Chaplain Ezekiel into the ground and escaped with his allies. The witch-born had escaped, too- but not with the help of the Dark Angels. One of their own had teleported them out of the fortress. The 1st Company, veterans of countless wars and warriors equal to none, had retreated like cowardly dogs.

In short, they had failed.

A voice broke into Pietr Farren's brooding, speaking across the squad vox-net.

"We land in less than a minute, Brother Sergeant," the Space Marine sitting across from Pietr said. Pietr searched his brain, trying to remember the brother's name- Sergio, was it? Penitent Squad Valor, his squad, had been put together just hours before, and he was still struggling to remember his teammates' identifications.

"Any last-minute advice?" Sergio continued, snapping Pietr out of his thoughts again. "You're the one with the most experience here."

"Brother Sergeant?" This time it was the Space Marine with the plasma cannon- Vera- to his left. "Weapons switched off, yes? I worry that my machine-spirit won't be able to control herself, should I leave her on-"

She was interrupted by a jarring crunch as the Thunderhawk gunship landed. The mag-clamps holding Pietr and the others to the walls retracted. The Space Marines immediately stood, years of instinct taking over, and turned to face the exit ramp. Pietr could hear Sister Aria- the youngest member of the squad, if he remembered correctly- muttering the Litany of Devotion over the vox-channel.

He suddenly realized that he hadn't answered either of the questions. He swallowed, opening the squad channel with a thought, and said, "Trust in the Emperor, Squad Valor. We do His work today, and fate willing, we will not fail."

The Thunderhawk's bay was quiet for a moment, the roar of the rapidly-cooling engines reverberating from outside.

"Didn't answer my question," Sergio muttered.

With that, the ramp unceremoniously dropped.

---------------------

Compile glanced up at a noise, expecting to find nothing but a Mrs. Kuly not at all tactfully watching her. She was quite off. Mrs. Kuly was out of sight. Instead, there was a ship. Like a ship ship. Like a people run ship. As the ramp dropped she considered what to do. Call for help in case they were hostile or take the chance that they might be okay. Worst case, she doubted Mrs. Kuly was far and Light was likely watching from her window. She'd take the risk of doing this herself first. 

---------------------

Squad Valor rushed down the ramp, falling into positions around the Thunderhawk.

They were surrounded by primitive habs made of wood and stone. It was depressingly provincial- rockcrete sidewalks, uncontrolled lawns and gardens, and not a defensive structure in sight. There were gaps in between the habs that probably led to a snarl of alleys and open area. It would be a nightmare to try and defend.

Something clattered to the ground to Pietr's right. He snapped his combi-bolter up, turning to see two elderly humans hobbling in to the nearest hab. He dismissed them as a threat, along with the hose that the male had dropped.

A small human was sitting on one of the lawns, staring slackjawed at the Thunderhawk. She hadn't run away like the elderly couple- she didn't seem frightened at all. Pietr frowned, pulling up his helm's facial recognition function with a thought.

It came up positive for a Compile Acute.

"Sergio, Vara," he said, opening the vox-net. "I'm taking point. Cover me."

As they voiced their assent, Pietr mag-locked his combi-bolter to his thigh and stepped towards the human.

---------------------

Armed, but it isn't in his hand. Good sign. Compile thought. But that doesn't mean much. He probably could pull it out faster than I could run. 

Something moved in the corner of her eye. She glanced quickly in that direction then returned her gaze to in front of her. It had only been Unity on the roof like normal these days. He wouldn't tell anyone. Not yet. Not if she was sitting there calmly. Unity trusted her judgement even if he really shouldn't have.

Well, best find out what this is about. She stood up and brushed off the dead grass stuck to her dress. Pink and purple dotted on a yellow backdrop. Very mature looking, she thought sarcastically. I've really got to look into getting Pry to actually make me that custom wardrobe.

"So," she said, looking up at the Marine that had approached her. "Is there a reason your ship was blocking the nice view of my neighbors' house a minute ago, or do you just like loitering near private property in your free time?"

---------------------

Loitering? Pietr thought. What is she-

Oh. She's mocking me. Pietr had read about the phenomenon- humans would use humor to attack an opponent, disparaging their intelligence or physical beauty as a way of establishing hierarchy. It occurred quite frequently among juveniles and politicians, as he understood it. Unfortunately, Pietr hadn't quite understood the part on how to mock.

"Movement on the roof," voxed Sister Aria, interrupting his thoughts. "Looks like a human child, male."

"Keep an eye on him, but don't attack," Pietr replied. "It could be one of the children we're here for."

He decided to keep his reply to the girl simple.  "Brother-Sergeant Farren," he said out loud, tapping a chain-bound forearm to his chest. "I was expecting you to be taller, Compile Acute."

---------------------

He knew her name. He storming knew her name. That disturbed her, but she tried not to show how unsettled that made her.

"And how tall do you expect five year olds to be?" Compile said. "Sergeant." She added it as an afterthought to show some respect. 

---------------------

The child had taken Pietr's feeble attempt at humor seriously, frak it all. Pietr had no idea what to say next- the jest had been meant to buy him time, and instead it dug him a deeper hole.

Pietr sighed, falling to a knee and taking off his helmet.

"I will be blunt," he said, looking Compile in the eyes. "You and your witch siblings were captured by Crow Blackice, and the Dark Angels failed to save you. For our failure-" he nodded back towards the other Space Marines- "we have taken oaths of penance, and are sworn to protect you and your family, with our lives if necessary. That is why we are here."

---------------------

So that's who enabled Pry to get Warmer and Eon away... Compile thought. In a sense I guess they kind of did succeed...

Either way, large people wearing armor wouldn't fly as normal, even on their street. This would require the work of some heavy adulting to pull off. Compile sighed and met his gaze. 

"It seems you may need to come inside," she said and began to walk towards the door. "My parents will be wanting to talk with some of you."

More to come!

[+Ark1002]

30 minutes ago, Grey Knight said:

Here's something me and Silva have been collaborating on. My viewpoint first, followed by hers.

  Hide contents

Unforgiven.

Crow had captured a family of witch-born, nearly enslaved them to his will. When the Deathwing had struck at his fortress, Crow had beaten Brother Chaplain Ezekiel into the ground and escaped with his allies. The witch-born had escaped, too- but not with the help of the Dark Angels. One of their own had teleported them out of the fortress. The 1st Company, veterans of countless wars and warriors equal to none, had retreated like cowardly dogs.

In short, they had failed.

A voice broke into Pietr Farren's brooding, speaking across the squad vox-net.

"We land in less than a minute, Brother Sergeant," the Space Marine sitting across from Pietr said. Pietr searched his brain, trying to remember the brother's name- Sergio, was it? Penitent Squad Valor, his squad, had been put together just hours before, and he was still struggling to remember his teammates' identifications.

"Any last-minute advice?" Sergio continued, snapping Pietr out of his thoughts again. "You're the one with the most experience here."

"Brother Sergeant?" This time it was the Space Marine with the plasma cannon- Vera- to his left. "Weapons switched off, yes? I worry that my machine-spirit won't be able to control herself, should I leave her on-"

She was interrupted by a jarring crunch as the Thunderhawk gunship landed. The mag-clamps holding Pietr and the others to the walls retracted. The Space Marines immediately stood, years of instinct taking over, and turned to face the exit ramp. Pietr could hear Sister Aria- the youngest member of the squad, if he remembered correctly- muttering the Litany of Devotion over the vox-channel.

He suddenly realized that he hadn't answered either of the questions. He swallowed, opening the squad channel with a thought, and said, "Trust in the Emperor, Squad Valor. We do His work today, and fate willing, we will not fail."

The Thunderhawk's bay was quiet for a moment, the roar of the rapidly-cooling engines reverberating from outside.

"Didn't answer my question," Sergio muttered.

With that, the ramp unceremoniously dropped.

---------------------

Compile glanced up at a noise, expecting to find nothing but a Mrs. Kuly not at all tactfully watching her. She was quite off. Mrs. Kuly was out of sight. Instead, there was a ship. Like a ship ship. Like a people run ship. As the ramp dropped she considered what to do. Call for help in case they were hostile or take the chance that they might be okay. Worst case, she doubted Mrs. Kuly was far and Light was likely watching from her window. She'd take the risk of doing this herself first. 

---------------------

Squad Valor rushed down the ramp, falling into positions around the Thunderhawk.

They were surrounded by primitive habs made of wood and stone. It was depressingly provincial- rockcrete sidewalks, uncontrolled lawns and gardens, and not a defensive structure in sight. There were gaps in between the habs that probably led to a snarl of alleys and open area. It would be a nightmare to try and defend.

Something clattered to the ground to Pietr's right. He snapped his combi-bolter up, turning to see two elderly humans hobbling in to the nearest hab. He dismissed them as a threat, along with the hose that the male had dropped.

A small human was sitting on one of the lawns, staring slackjawed at the Thunderhawk. She hadn't run away like the elderly couple- she didn't seem frightened at all. Pietr frowned, pulling up his helm's facial recognition function with a thought.

It came up positive for a Compile Acute.

"Sergio, Vara," he said, opening the vox-net. "I'm taking point. Cover me."

As they voiced their assent, Pietr mag-locked his combi-bolter to his thigh and stepped towards the human.

---------------------

Armed, but it isn't in his hand. Good sign. Compile thought. But that doesn't mean much. He probably could pull it out faster than I could run. 

Something moved in the corner of her eye. She glanced quickly in that direction then returned her gaze to in front of her. It had only been Unity on the roof like normal these days. He wouldn't tell anyone. Not yet. Not if she was sitting there calmly. Unity trusted her judgement even if he really shouldn't have.

Well, best find out what this is about. She stood up and brushed off the dead grass stuck to her dress. Pink and purple dotted on a yellow backdrop. Very mature looking, she thought sarcastically. I've really got to look into getting Pry to actually make me that custom wardrobe.

"So," she said, looking up at the Marine that had approached her. "Is there a reason your ship was blocking the nice view of my neighbors' house a minute ago, or do you just like loitering near private property in your free time?"

---------------------

Loitering? Pietr thought. What is she-

Oh. She's mocking me. Pietr had read about the phenomenon- humans would use humor to attack an opponent, disparaging their intelligence or physical beauty as a way of establishing hierarchy. It occurred quite frequently among juveniles and politicians, as he understood it. Unfortunately, Pietr hadn't quite understood the part on how to mock.

"Movement on the roof," voxed Sister Aria, interrupting his thoughts. "Looks like a human child, male."

"Keep an eye on him, but don't attack," Pietr replied. "It could be one of the children we're here for."

He decided to keep his reply to the girl simple.  "Brother-Sergeant Farren," he said out loud, tapping a chain-bound forearm to his chest. "I was expecting you to be taller, Compile Acute."

---------------------

He knew her name. He storming knew her name. That disturbed her, but she tried not to show how unsettled that made her.

"And how tall do you expect five year olds to be?" Compile said. "Sergeant." She added it as an afterthought to show some respect. 

---------------------

The child had taken Pietr's feeble attempt at humor seriously, frak it all. Pietr had no idea what to say next- the jest had been meant to buy him time, and instead it dug him a deeper hole.

Pietr sighed, falling to a knee and taking off his helmet.

"I will be blunt," he said, looking Compile in the eyes. "You and your witch siblings were captured by Crow Blackice, and the Dark Angels failed to save you. For our failure-" he nodded back towards the other Space Marines- "we have taken oaths of penance, and are sworn to protect you and your family, with our lives if necessary. That is why we are here."

---------------------

So that's who enabled Pry to get Warmer and Eon away... Compile thought. In a sense I guess they kind of did succeed...

Either way, large people wearing armor wouldn't fly as normal, even on their street. This would require the work of some heavy adulting to pull off. Compile sighed and met his gaze. 

"It seems you may need to come inside," she said and began to walk towards the door. "My parents will be wanting to talk with some of you."

More to come!

Huh. This will make Crow's revenge harder.

[Sherlock Holmes]

Yo, everyone, the following scene is about Tena, and is also very short. Thanks, all!

@Karnatheon @Ark1002

Spoiler

 

Six hours. Shorter than the first two, thank the Sisters.

Tena was laying in a hospital bed, Ani sitting on the floor next to the bed, holding Tena’s hand. She squeezed his hand for a moment, and he looked up at her, worry (maybe even panic) in his eyes. It had been a minute or something since the nurses had taken the baby (whether it was alive or dead, Tena did not know) to clean it, and he had clearly found the experience of her being in labor as traumatic as she had, though it might’ve been harder for him.

“Don’t women, um, usually cry more than you did?” Ani asked her, as if scared of the silence.

“You just gotta grit your teeth and get through it,” Tena said tiredly, moving her hand to Ani’s head and ruffling his hair. He still looked just as concerned, and Tena felt bad for having infected him with her worries.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do if our baby is dead,” Ani said quietly, and Tena smiled at him.

“Have another one?” she asked.

Anthony thumped his head down on the mattress and laughed, then looked up at her. “Sorry, are you serious?”

Tena shrugged and straightened up marginally as a nurse walked into the room. “We’re about done cleaning up your baby, ma’am,” the young woman said.

“Is it dead?” Tena asked tiredly, closing her eyes. She couldn’t even summon the energy to mad vehement about the statement. If the baby was dead, she would still have Ani, and as long as she had Ani, she had a purpose.

“Um, no, ma’am, there’s nothing wrong with her,” the nurse answered.

“Her?” Ani and Tena said at the same time. Another girl baby. Another girl baby!

“Yes, the baby is a girl. You’ll be seeing her… now.”

A shorter male nurse walked into the room, a loudly-crying bundle in his arms, and gave Tena the bundle. It was a little bit heavy, and when she looked down in it, there was a little baby in there, alive and crying for all its worth.

Tena breathed out a long sigh and held the baby close to her. She should’ve felt more conviction that her baby was alive, but she was still so tired and couldn’t be overjoyed. Just at peace. She felt at peace, and everything was suddenly okay.

“Do you have a name for her?” the male nurse asked.

“Ani, you get to name her,” Tena told her husband calmly.

“Oh, okay,” Ani said, and Tena looked up at him. He was crying a little, so she moved one of her hands to the side of his face and made him look at her. He breathed slowly for a moment, but didn’t stop crying, then said, “Sol… it’s the summer solstice right now, isn’t it?” Tena nodded, and Anthony continued, “Okay, her name is Solstice Winter.”

“I like that,” Tena said softly. “And her middle name’ll be be Theon.” Anthony gave her a questioning look, and she explained, “That was my grandmother’s last name.”

“So her name,” Ani said with a smile, “is Solstice Winter Theon Nightshade. That’s seriously awesome.”

“That works,” one of the nurses said, “but is Winter her first name or middle name?”

“Middle,” Tena said, and the nurse nodded.

“We’ll put that on her birth certificate.”

 

[Karnatheon]

49 minutes ago, Sherlock Holmes said:

Yo, everyone, the following scene is about Tena, and is also very short. Thanks, all!

@Karnatheon @Ark1002

  Hide contents

 

 

Six hours. Shorter than the first two, thank the Sisters.

Tena was laying in a hospital bed, Ani sitting on the floor next to the bed, holding Tena’s hand. She squeezed his hand for a moment, and he looked up at her, worry (maybe even panic) in his eyes. It had been a minute or something since the nurses had taken the baby (whether it was alive or dead, Tena did not know) to clean it, and he had clearly found the experience of her being in labor as traumatic as she had, though it might’ve been harder for him.

“Don’t women, um, usually cry more than you did?” Ani asked her, as if scared of the silence.

“You just gotta grit your teeth and get through it,” Tena said tiredly, moving her hand to Ani’s head and ruffling his hair. He still looked just as concerned, and Tena felt bad for having infected him with her worries.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do if our baby is dead,” Ani said quietly, and Tena smiled at him.

“Have another one?” she asked.

Anthony thumped his head down on the mattress and laughed, then looked up at her. “Sorry, are you serious?”

Tena shrugged and straightened up marginally as a nurse walked into the room. “We’re about done cleaning up your baby, ma’am,” the young woman said.

“Is it dead?” Tena asked tiredly, closing her eyes. She couldn’t even summon the energy to mad vehement about the statement. If the baby was dead, she would still have Ani, and as long as she had Ani, she had a purpose.

“Um, no, ma’am, there’s nothing wrong with her,” the nurse answered.

“Her?” Ani and Tena said at the same time. Another girl baby. Another girl baby!

“Yes, the baby is a girl. You’ll be seeing her… now.”

A shorter male nurse walked into the room, a loudly-crying bundle in his arms, and gave Tena the bundle. It was a little bit heavy, and when she looked down in it, there was a little baby in there, alive and crying for all its worth.

Tena breathed out a long sigh and held the baby close to her. She should’ve felt more conviction that her baby was alive, but she was still so tired and couldn’t be overjoyed. Just at peace. She felt at peace, and everything was suddenly okay.

“Do you have a name for her?” the male nurse asked.

“Ani, you get to name her,” Tena told her husband calmly.

“Oh, okay,” Ani said, and Tena looked up at him. He was crying a little, so she moved one of her hands to the side of his face and made him look at her. He breathed slowly for a moment, but didn’t stop crying, then said, “Sol… it’s the summer solstice right now, isn’t it?” Tena nodded, and Anthony continued, “Okay, her name is Solstice Winter.”

“I like that,” Tena said softly. “And her middle name’ll be be Theon.” Anthony gave her a questioning look, and she explained, “That was my grandmother’s last name.”

“So her name,” Ani said with a smile, “is Solstice Winter Theon Nightshade. That’s seriously awesome.”

“That works,” one of the nurses said, “but is Winter her first name or middle name?”

“Middle,” Tena said, and the nurse nodded.

“We’ll put that on her birth certificate.”

 

Yay! I'm so storming glad she made it. I didn't want to have to read another death scene. And yay! Apparently I'm Tena's grandmother.

[+Ark1002]

4 hours ago, Karnatheon said:

Yay! I'm so storming glad she made it. I didn't want to have to read another death scene. And yay! Apparently I'm Tena's grandmother.

Ax told me it had to happen. I'm gonna RP her, so you're now in my characters name.

[Karnatheon]

1 hour ago, Ark1002 said:

Ax told me it had to happen. I'm gonna RP her, so you're now in my characters name.

Awesome. 

[+Sorana]

We finally sorted Damaya's plot enough, that I could write the last two scenes for the timeskip. Both are rather short, but still important.

Damaya, at the beginning of the timeskip.

Spoiler

Damaya put the chisel away and stepped back, looking at the stone in front of her. It was a crude stone, but finally the letters were more or less the same height and size. She had chosen a beautiful spot in a clearance in the woods and had spent days learning how to chisel letters. Her first tries had been gruesome, but with the latest ones she was satisfied. She softly brushed over the stone, the name she had written.

Klasten.

She hadn’t been able to find him, maybe he had turned completely invisible, maybe he had been ripped apart by a bird, or killed by Rotcennoc. Maybe he had drowned. In the end it didn’t matter how he had died, only that he had. The island had been swallowed by the sea, and he had had no way to escape.

If she was honest with herself, she hadn’t really known him, but he had helped her and the part where he simply vanished without a sign made her sad. Carefully she placed the bag next to the stone. She hadn’t taken anything out of it, it was his, and it belonged here - a symbol for the one they had lost. Sitting down, she looked at the stone, at the grave, if you could call it a grave and simply sat there for a while, listened to the animals, to the wind. She didn’t know if he had had any family, if someone would miss him, search for him.
“Rest in peace, Klasten.”
Her voice broke the silence, and she thought of something else to say, but no words came to her mind and so she stayed silent. Nobody was there to hear them, so it didn’t really matter.

A grave. You built a grave for the living, not for the dead. The dead didn’t care anymore, Klasten himself would never know. But she knew, and for her it was important. It was important, that there was a sign, that there was a symbol for a live cut short, for opportunities lost. A symbol. A symbol of the past, to leave a mark, a sign, that he had been here, so that you could go on, you could walk forward and when you needed it, you could always return, think of the past, let your thoughts wander for a moment, remember and then go on.

 

Araha watched Damaya from a distance. She was making a grave, for Klasten. Araha turned away, lashing herself into the sky. She flew over the open sea, getting close, letting her hand trail through the water. The water was beautiful, and it triggered a memory. The pool, the one she had fell down. There had been people there. Mermaids, almost. But something about them was different. They weren’t human, but they weren’t fishlike either. They were more like… crabs. But humanoid, and sleeker. They hadn’t been the same. She’d have to investigate.

 

She turned, and flew back to Damaya. Gently, she settled down beside her. She stayed silent, just standing there.

 

Damaya took her friends hand, smiled at her. The future, they would walk into the future - together.

Althea, a few monts into the timeskip

Spoiler

Althea read through the report a second time, then a third time. The island her sister had been on, it had sunk. Completely. Even if she had survived her crash, she would have died afterwards. Her agent had seen no other ship than his own.

She had held on to that sliver of hope, but sometimes you had to accept what happened. She had tried, that counted.

 

Althea looked at the stones, tried to decide which one would fit her sister. She hadn't known her, had nothing but a few reports. Her fingers brushed over the first one, then over the second one, she walked along the line, touched them all. And then she turned around and left.

 

A grave. You built a grave for the living, not for the dead. The dead didn’t care anymore, Damaya herself would never know. But she knew, and if she built that grave now, then it meant she had given up. It meant she had accepted that her sister was dead, without proof. Althea closed her eyes, took a deep steadying breath. Her sister was a Radiant, she could survive against all odds. She wouldn't give that piece of hope up, not now not ever. She had lost the opportunity to meet her, she had lost every change to hug her to find her. But if she gave up now, if she let her go now, there was no way back.

 

[beantheboy12]

This is a scene I had already worked out in my head, but I figured I wanted to write it.

Spoiler

Benson sulked all in black wearing a black cloak along the dark streets of the night. He was a fugitive now. Not to the law, to far worse. The Ghostbloods. When he thought of his trial at the oasis, tears welled up in his eyes again.

All he had done was admit to something he considered. Taking over the Ghostbloods. For that, he was tried, an innocent man with nothing but ambition, and killed. But having discovered he was a light weaver, he suspected they might kill an innocent man so he sent an illusion attatched to metra instead.

Tears of anger appeared in his eyes. No, anger will get you killed, he thought to himself. But how could he not hate the Ghostbloods for these unjust actions? He pushed onward to his spot of safety until he fell to his knees, crying. Metra appeared by his side.

“I,” Benson stammered. “I can’t do this anymore. Be hunted for a crime I didn’t commit.”

”Mmmmmm, but you will die!” Metra responded.

”Survival is not life. I can’t stand by while,” he paused. “While those murderers are still alive.”

He forced himself to his knees and looked directly at Metra. “The Ghostbloods betrayed me and I hate them for that. I will do all I can to destroy them.”

With courage and newfound strength, he sucked in some stormlight and took off in a sprint back toward the Oasis. Where he would end this.

 

[+Ark1002]

1 hour ago, beantheboy12 said:

This is a scene I had already worked out in my head, but I figured I wanted to write it.

  Hide contents

Benson sulked all in black wearing a black cloak along the dark streets of the night. He was a fugitive now. Not to the law, to far worse. The Ghostbloods. When he thought of his trial at the oasis, tears welled up in his eyes again.

All he had done was admit to something he considered. Taking over the Ghostbloods. For that, he was tried, an innocent man with nothing but ambition, and killed. But having discovered he was a light weaver, he suspected they might kill an innocent man so he sent an illusion attatched to metra instead.

Tears of anger appeared in his eyes. No, anger will get you killed, he thought to himself. But how could he not hate the Ghostbloods for these unjust actions? He pushed onward to his spot of safety until he fell to his knees, crying. Metra appeared by his side.

“I,” Benson stammered. “I can’t do this anymore. Be hunted for a crime I didn’t commit.”

”Mmmmmm, but you will die!” Metra responded.

”Survival is not life. I can’t stand by while,” he paused. “While those murderers are still alive.”

He forced himself to his knees and looked directly at Metra. “The Ghostbloods betrayed me and I hate them for that. I will do all I can to destroy them.”

With courage and newfound strength, he sucked in some stormlight and took off in a sprint back toward the Oasis. Where he would end this.

 

Oooh

Edited February 17, 2019 by Ark1002

[beantheboy12]

Quote

Before I continue with this plot, tell me, how the heck does hellbent work? How are there two of you?

 

[+Ark1002]

1 minute ago, beantheboy12 said:

 

Hellbent and Devaan share a body

[beantheboy12]

But why are you and Nohadon hellbent?

[+Sorana]

56 minutes ago, beantheboy12 said:

But why are you and Nohadon hellbent?

Their characters Devaan and Hellbent fought each other in era 2, basically eliminating each other. Their current situation is the result of that fight.

Edited February 17, 2019 by Sorana

[+Ark1002]

6 hours ago, Sorana said:

Their characters Devaan and Hellbent fought each other in era 2, basically eliminating each other. Their current situation is the result of that fight.

Devaans boon was that he would come back, and Hellbent's spirit got entangled with his, creating this.

[+ZincAboutIt]

Quote

I may already be too obsessed with Lita, but she's one of my favorite characters I've ever created for any purpose. Here's some backstory on why she left Elendel. It's long and I'm not sorry.  

Spoiler

Lita sat in the dim light, smoking one of Forian’s hand-rolled cigarettes. The room seemed bright through the light burn of tin she had going, and the heat of the cigarette seared her tongue. The pain felt good. Forian’s brandy had seeped across the wood planking, soaking unevenly into the grain of the pine. Lita could smell it still, sharp and wicked and sweet, and below that, the soft whisper of bitter almond. And there, just at the barest edge of her senses, Lita smelled the first hints of putrefaction. 

Forian lay on the floor, eyes staring placidly into the space before him. Some of the brandy had soaked into his fine black hair, slowly disintegrating the pomade. Lita cocked her head at him, expecting to feel… more. More rage, more sorrow, more horror at what she had done. Instead, there was just a cold sense of accomplishment.

Lita took another drag of the cigarette and let the smoke curl slowly out of her mouth. Her heightened vision let her pick out each curl and bend of the smoke. It looked rather like the mists, which brought Lita a kind of perverse joy.

No room for Harmony’s mists in here, she thought, placing the cigarette between her teeth and getting up from her chair.

She crossed the room and swung her leg over Forian’s body, sitting squarely on his chest. He didn’t protest, of course. Lita untied his cravat and used the fine silk to wipe the white foam off his lips, pursing her own as she did so. She took the cigarette out of her mouth, crushing the embers into the lapel of his suit. He was handsome, even now.

“What a shame, Forian,” Lita murmured to him, turning his face to look into his eyes. Deep blue, like late evening. “What a rusting shame.”

She bent, placing a kiss on his forehead. Tin let her feel the slight damp coldness of his skin, and she shuddered, tapping brass. She had loved him - she still loved him. That’s what had made everything so terrible.

Lita closed his eyelids and tried to smoothe some of the agony out of his face, feeling foolish as she did so.

There’s no undoing what’s been done, Lita.

She reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat, pulling out a slim wallet full of paper bills. Those wouldn’t get her very far outside the Basin, but she already had all of Forian’s gifts to her in her travel sack. There was enough gold and jewels to get her quite far from Elendel. She replaced the wallet with a slender appointment book bound in deep green leather.

Incriminating enough, she figured, pausing to re-tie Forian’s cravat. 

Her hands moved automatically, even pressing the knot with the center of her palm as she always had before he’d left their small flat in the morning. The intimacy of the gesture brought a certain weight to the events of the night, and Lita very suddenly felt a cresting wave of deep revulsion wash over her. She extinguished her tin, looking away from Forian’s face and willing herself not to retch. Her nails pressed into the heels of her palms, hands shaking slightly. 

Think about Father, she told herself. Think about what this bastard tried to frame him for.

A bit of her earlier anger crept into her heart, fortifying her nerve. Lita looked back at her lover and clenched her jaw, rifling through the rest of his pockets until she found a small black pouch, and Forian’s gold pocket watch.

The watch’s beautiful crystal face read 11:25, and Lita knew the constables would be here soon. She’d sent word about a death, after all. Lita slid the watch and the pouch into the pocket of her skirt and stood, crossing the room to the narrow staircase. She turned, and allowed herself one last look at Forian Tekiel.

Then, she was out the door, travelling boots making the wooden stairs creak. She crossed the darkened downstairs room, grateful that she had convinced her father to take the night off. With any luck, he was still down at The Last Emperor, getting soused off of cheap ale and soothing away the worries of his friends. 

A small smile touched her mouth at the thought of her father. Conrad Attare was a good man, a better person than Lita would ever be. She was determined that he would face none of the consequences for her actions here tonight.

The street outside was quiet as she locked the parlor door, no one but an old beggar lurking in a nearby alley. She flipped him a coin as she passed, turning her tin back on as she navigated Elendel’s many back streets and alleys. The mists followed her as she wandered, curling and bending around her, drawn by her Allomancy. 

Survivor help me, Lita thought, shoving her hands into her pockets and turning up the collar of her coat. Her fingers brushed the little black pouch, and curiosity nagged at her. 

She made it five more blocks before she finally ducked into a small alley and tugged open the tiny cloth bag, tipping a single small earring into her palm.

It was Forian’s Pathian earring, of course. She should have known.

Suddenly, the damp chill of Forian’s skin was on her mouth again, and she leaned against the alley wall and was violently ill. The mist continued to swirl around her playfully, almost mocking her.

Rusting Terrisman god, Lita thought, spitting onto the ground. She wiped her hand across her mouth, arm shaking. 

“I hate you,” she whispered into the dark, though whether she was speaking to the mists, or to Forian, or to herself, she wasn’t sure.

Lita dropped the earring onto the alley floor and walked back into the night.

This time, she did not look back.