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Scadrial Thread


ZincAboutIt

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Nerin looked out the window and down the winding length of street that led past Sethwick’s Soothing Parlor and Lounge. It was late afternoon, but night had already fallen here in the 7th Octant neighborhood of the Hollows, shadowed by tenements. It wasn’t quite a bad part of town, but neither was it good - at least, that’s what old Jeb said. As far as Nerin was concerned, the Hollows were just fine. The people here were rich enough to pay her but miserable enough to come looking. That’s all she needed.

She’d once asked Jeb who Sethwick was, to which the old Soother had replied “some fine dandy git.” Nerin took that to mean that Jeb had made him up, and she didn’t blame him really. “Jeb’s Soothing Parlor and Lounge” rolled off the tongue with all the grace of two horse shoes jangling in a sack. It was so much easier to lie about such things. It was expected, really. No one ever really trusted a Soother anyhow, so you might as well spin a pretty fiction.

The clock on the wall hit five and Nerin got up from her seat by the window to light the little gaslamp outside the door. She pulled her coat tighter at the autumn chill, cupping her match as she reached inside the blue glass lantern and lit the wick. It caught with a stuttering flare of yellow, then shrunk to its usual steady glow as she closed the little hinged glass door. The lamp cast a calm haze of blue around the poch, a luring kind halo of light.

Come forget, it beckoned. For just a moment, all your troubles will melt away.

Nerin looked out at the street one more time, then went back inside. Jeb was wiping down glasses at the bar, setting them behind the polished wooden countertop and counting out the money in the till.

“It’s a chill evening,” Nerin said, tapping one finger on the bar and nodding toward the wall of liquor bottles. “I imagine it’ll be the hard and dark stuff tonight.”

Jeb nodded, not looking up from his counting. He was a good-looking man for his age, somewhere north of forty and south of sixty, with coal-black hair shot through with silver and tied at the nape of his neck. He had keen eyes, flinty and sharp, which matched his proud nose and angled chin. His skin was paler than most, likely from years cooped up inside parlors like this one, though he’d kept up his physique through the years --

Nerin cocked her head. What am I thinking? She cast a withering glance at Jeb, whose mouth had started to quirk up ever-so slightly.

“Stop trying to Soothe me into your bed, old man,” she said dryly. “I’ll have a glass of red, and none of that Callingfale dreg you buy cheap. I want the real stuff. It’s going to be a long night, I can feel it.”

Jeb reached behind the bar and drew out a bottle, pouring her a generous glass. He slid it across the bartop and winked at her.

“I can’t make you feel nothin’ you don’t already have cookin’ up there, love,” he said, smirking.

Nerin rolled her eyes. “I’m a Soother, not a grave robber.”

Jeb chuckled and she walked towards the back room, wine glass in hand, savoring the last moments of quiet dusky evening before her shift began.

It was time to begin the business of forgetting.

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Attayl pushed the door open and looked inside. A soothing parlor. She disliked the places, but they were anonym, or at least as anonym as you vould get. Which wasn't that much. Her hands brushed over her nondescript, but more or less tidy cloths and then she stepped inside.

She plastered a polite smile on her face and waited for someone to show her to an empty table. Hopefully her aquaintance wouldn't be late, she wanted to get it done.

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4 minutes ago, ZincAboutIt said:

Jeb smiled at the young woman, sending out the smallest Soothing to file down the edges of her anxiety, maybe set her a bit more at ease.

"Evening," he said, nodding to her. "Drinking tonight, or something stronger?" He nodded towards a back room, where Nerin waited.

@Sorana

Still smiling Attayl bowed slightly.

"Good evening. Something stronger please."

She relaxed gradually, her anxiety subsiding. Dan had hinted that he wanted to see her tonight to have fun, but the thought didn't make her gag anymore. There would be a way. There always was. First the meeting, then the rest.

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The doors opened, and a girl with black hair cut short in full white shardplate (Excluding helm) walked in, with a nervous looking boy with white hair in braids wearing black robes following close behind. "Is this Sethwick's Soothing Parlor?" The girl asked.

@ZincAboutIt

Edited by Emperor Stick
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Some people wanted to start an Alleyverse thread in Scadrial, so there are overarching eventual plot points but for now this is just a setting in Era 2 Scadrial for characters to gather and meet, before anything large develops. I'll edit some background into the main post but I honestly also know very little about where this is going to go. I just started the thread since I have a Soother character and someone wanted to begin their plot in a Soothing parlor. So, here we are :P I can add you to the PM if you like.

@kenod

Jeb glanced up from the bar at the two new customers, momentarily startled at their apparent age and the girl's odd suit of... armor? Then, he gave a small sigh and smiled easily. 

"Indeed it is," he said. "How can I help you two?"

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Jeb is an NPC, so feel free to mod him about if I'm away.

@Emperor Stick

Edited by ZincAboutIt
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Attayl stepped through the backdoor into another room. There were comfortable looking chairs around, and a younger woman. Unsure what she was supposed to do, she shot a smile at the woman.

"Can I sit down whereever I want to, or are some of the tables reserved?"

@ZincAboutIt

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Dwig floated above the mists, staring longingly at the stars. One day he mused, One day… For now, he would settle for a glass of whiskey and some interesting conversation. He released his anchor and dropped through the mists, coat rippling. Dwig Pushed up at the last moment, slowing himself so he landed with a soft thump. He scooped up the nail he’d been using as an anchor, turning it in his fingers. It was made from good steel, same as most of the nails he carried with him. A single blue line pointed to it. Dwig smiled slightly and dropped it into his coat pocket. It was probably safe to do so, as any Metalborn gunning for him had no idea he was in the city. His smile widened as he ran forward and jumped off the roof. A Push on a rapidly approaching lamppost sent him sailing back into the sky at an angle. He continued to sail above the street on bits of metal, searching for a good place to drink.

Dwig spotted a warm blue light, a bubble in the mists. He Pushed on a sign, landing softly. He squinted up at the sign. A soothing parlor.

“Why not?” he said quietly to himself, producing a wide-brimmed hat from his pocket and putting it on. It was aluminum lined, hopefully protecting from the Soothers within.

Dwig stepped inside, noting the small number of customers already within. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed a Shardbearer. She was young. Younger than any he’d seen.

“A Shardbearer walks into a Soothing parlor.” he quipped, an easy grin on his face, “Sounds like the start of a bad worldhopper joke.”

~~~

Radyn strode through the mists, tin at low burn. He could see his destination up ahead. A Soothing parlor. Distasteful. Radyn shook his head, coat carving eddies in the mist. If he hadn't received a note from that Wolfbrother, he would have never even contemplated coming close to one of these establishments. But, that man had wanted to meet, and Radyn wasn’t going to pass up the chance to actually talk to him.

He toyed with the note as he stepped up to the door. He was about to open it when someone grabbed him by the collar of his coat and dragged him back.

“Hey,” the someone whispered, “It’s me.”

“Who?” Radyn asked incredulously

“The Wolfbrother. We’re not going in. Not yet anyway.”

Radyn spun, glaring at the man, whose eyes shone slightly in the blue light.

~~~

Aben looked the Whitecloak up and down.

“I see you followed my advice, friend.” Aben said, then nodded, “You look good. The coat fits you.”

“Great.” the man responded, “Can I know your name now?”

The Whitecloak was annoyed and just a little bit scared. “Sure,” Aben smiled, “I’m Aben. And you are?”

“Radyn,” the Whitecloak said stiffly.

“Ah. Shall we?” Aben gestured to the door and the unlikely pair stepped inside.

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5 hours ago, ZincAboutIt said:
Quote

Some people wanted to start an Alleyverse thread in Scadrial, so there are overarching eventual plot points but for now this is just a setting in Era 2 Scadrial for characters to gather and meet, before anything large develops. I'll edit some background into the main post but I honestly also know very little about where this is going to go. I just started the thread since I have a Soother character and someone wanted to begin their plot in a Soothing parlor. So, here we are :P I can add you to the PM if you like.

@kenod

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Not necessary. I don't really have any characters with a reason to be on Scandrial anyway.

 

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Radyn pushed his way past a brawny man leaning by the door, entering the parlor proper. Aben led him to a small table and nodded to the chairs. 

"Please," he said quietly, "Sit. Let's talk" 

"About what?" Radyn asked, curious as to why the man had brought him here. 

"Good question. I'll tell you in a bit. But first, drinks!"

~~~

Aben waved the barkeep over, "You. Greasy man." he called sharply. As he waited for the man to arrive, he inhaled deeply. The pungent sent of alcohol flooded his nose, undercut by various emotions. Anxiety, fear, a small bit of panic and, oddly enough, curiosity. Aben didn't try to figure out who was feeling what, he just let the sents fill his nose.

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EDIT: Um... It's just a Scadrial based thread in the normal Alleyverse. If you have five characters already, you can't make any more.

 

Edited by Dr. Dapper
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If someone wants to make a Scadrian native with no off-world heritage, no worldhopping, no knowledge of other Shardworlds and no involvement with main Alleyverse plots then they can go over 5.

 

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Nerin looked up from her wingback armchair in the corner of the smaller room and smiled. She already had a light burn of brass going, just a basic Soothing that eased away any ambient exhaustion, worry, or fear. The new arrival was an older girl with a vigilant, watchful look that spoke of street life. Nerin reached out with a more targeted Soothing and smudged the clear lines of the girl's apprehension.

No need for that, she thought. This is a place of peace. Come sit a while. She turned over one of a collection of small hourglasses, each with enough sand for thirty minutes.

"No reservation needed," Nerin said, keeping her smile soft for this one. She extended her hand to the room. "Please, sit wherever you wish."

@Sorana

Edited by ZincAboutIt
Responding IC
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No involvement besides influencing AV characters, that is.

In that case, whoever is in charge (Zinc probably?), can you look over this?

Spoiler

Name: Garth Nightshade

Investiture: Iron Compounder

Skills: Whittling, gunsmithing

Weaknesses: Physically weak, emotionally sensitive, OCD

Appearance: White hair, brown eyes, dark skin, black vest and gloves, red t-shirt, blue jeans.

Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCuMWrfXG4E

Backstory: Garth was born to a average wealth family, but a man with violet eyes and white hair murdered them when Garth was ten. Garth lived on the streets, angry with the man. Only his desire for revenge kept him alive. Eventually, when he was sixteen, he was able to get a job as an apprentice's blacksmith. He had snapped during that time, and he quickly discovered his iron allomancy. His master was a Coinshot, and taught him the art as well as he could. When his master died, he took over the shop, and later discovered his iron feruchemy. Knowing of compounding, he tried it, quickly discovering the potential.

 

@ZincAboutIt

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