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3 hours ago, Rosharan A.C. said:

Quick question. Is the festival still technically going on? I kept up until around page 11, and I'm not sure what's happened since then. I know that a criminal got loose, a building collapsed, and some tunnels were made, among other things. These seem like they could potentially cause an early end to the festivities, so I was curious.

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Pshh, end the festivities? There wasn't even a catastrophic explosion! Hardly worth much notice in Alleycity and hardly worth stopping an annual festival over :P 

In all seriousness, the Festival is occurring all over the city, so there will be plenty of places that don't even know what is happening in that side plot.

 

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She noticed a handful of blonde eyelashes? Laurelai wondered. Someone very used to observing smaller details at the least, if not a Tineye or an Awakener.

An Awakener was less likely given the womans appearance, accent and lack of an aura but it wasn't impossible. Still even with enhanced senses to notice the discrepancy most people were not likely to actually come a deduction like a Forger. Could Lita be a fellow Forger perhaps? Used to noticing such details and prone to bias in assuming the cause? Laurelai herself had changed her features and accent on numerous occasions, becoming a red headed Scadrian was not out of the realm of possibility.

"Quite a pretty charm," Lita said, interrupting Laurelai's chain of thought and pulling her attention back to the other woman. "Is it a Sellish currency?" 

For a moment Laurelai repressed the impulse to quirk her lips into a smile but then decided there was little point and allowed her amusement to show. Many people might ask such a question perfectly innocently, but someone as perceptive as Lita appeared to be and knowledgable enough about Forgery and Selish heritage to pick Laurelai out so accurately would have known better. The coin had no obvious markings of any Selish script on it, and the Arelish Deo and most other Selish currencies were common enough in the city that someone this attentive would be aware of them.

She's curious about it? She mused with interest, glad to have a moment to turn the tables. But hiding her curiosity behind smalltalk, does she know what it actually is?

"Not quite." Laurelai replied, staring a little more directly at Lita. "Or if it is then it's from no part of Sel that I've been able to find. It's a little difficult for a Forger to admit but I'm not even sure where the metal came from, let alone where it was minted."

Her amused smile melted quickly into a nostalgic warmth as she remembered the years she'd spent puzzling over this mystery from her mother. It was one of the first projects she'd ever set out to Forge and one of the only projects that she hadn't completed at this point, stymied by her lack of awareness at where the coin had come from. It had been a constant source of frustration, curiosity and joy throughout her life, in many ways a channel for the mother who she could not direct those emotions to.

"But hardly something elaborate enough to be showing off tonight of all nights." Laurelai said, leaving the coin where it sat nestled against her skin. "Though perhaps a little more fitting for the Coin than it is for me."

She kept her tone and smile polite but her eyes shone brightly as they examined Lita, curious to know the other womans interest and hopeful that she may be able to startle her at least a little in return for her own treatment at Lita's hands.

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Ah, caught in my own deception, Lita thought, pleased despite the slight defeat. She watched Laurelai observing her with a degree of both caution and curiosity that Lita found familiar. Lita had been much the same way when she'd met Mac. She pursed her lips, considering for a moment, before deciding to take a small, calculated risk.

"Ah yes, the Coin." Lita smiled and withdrew a blank gold disc from a pocket sewn into her sleeve, dancing it across her knuckles. It was one of the many such coins that storytellers threw out to the audience during the Festival, a simple circle of metal merely painted gold. A passing stranger had handed it to her earlier, and Lita enjoyed the way it felt in her hand. Heavier than she'd expected, and quite excellent for flipping. She did so, catching it and holding it up before her face.

"A talisman given to man by a god, a reward for his bravery and his mastery of their own domain. A symbol of resolution, of peace. But also of power - if you believe the legends, that is." Lita looked directly at Laurelai for a moment, meeting her crystal blue eyes, before slipping the coin back into her sleeve and taking another sip from her glass. "Monsters lurking in dark alleys, pathways between reality, men with sharp eyes and sharper tools... it all sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn't it?"

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"Far-fetched?" Laurelai replied contemplatively. "Some might say so, but legends originate somewhere after all. The Alethi's Almighty may not be the creator of all things but he certainly existed once upon a time and you can hardly blame some bronze age farmers for mistaking a Shard as a deity."

She felt her heart palpitating within her chest, her excitement mounting at the suddenly broached topic. Laurelai fought to keep her voice even, and to keep the burning spark of interest from lighting her eyes. Many within the city dismissed those stories as legends, as Lita said. Others relegated them to something mythological, perhaps real but in the distant past and not relevant to today.

Laurelai believed neither, there were certainly powerful figures who had created this world none could deny that. Was it that much more of a leap to assume that similarly powerful beings kept watch over it?

"And scoff as some people might it's still rare to see someone venturing along into some of the dark alleys in the cities depths." Laurelai continued, seeking to adopt Lita's earlier tone of semi-interested smalltalk. "Superstition is hardly something to be taken as fact, but if you follow its threads you can usually arrive at some interesting truths."

With great effort Laurelai kept her gaze smooth and steady as she slowly watched Lita's expression. Watched her eyes, her cheeks, her brow for the slight movements that would betray someones inner thoughts. A twitch of surprise, a narrowing of eyes when suspicious. Anything to tell her who exactly Lita was and what had prompted this conversation.

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10 hours ago, ZincAboutIt said:

Pshh, end the festivities? There wasn't even a catastrophic explosion! Hardly worth much notice in Alleycity and hardly worth stopping an annual festival over :P 

In all seriousness, the Festival is occurring all over the city, so there will be plenty of places that don't even know what is happening in that side plot.

 

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Oh ok. That's good to know. Hehe, I'm new. :P

 

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Althea looked around, tried to see a person who looked a little like the one they were following. The dim light and the fact that many of the customers were facial make up of some sorts made it a bit difficult, but after a while she was more or less sure that whoever that person was, they weren't in this room.

She hesitated for a moment, considered to ask Brin to go on, or do something, but then in the end walked over to one of the waiters herself. Better to do it right than to rely on him. She still didn't know enough about him to judge why he was involving himself in this. Well she did, if him being a Skybreaker counted. With a mental sigh she shook her head and then waved at one of the man walking between the tables.

"Excuse me." she greeted him politely, waited until he turned his head in her direction. "We are looking for a friend of ours. Taller then I am," that part was a bet, but a pretty save one given her smallish size, "with grey looking skin." that part was the important one. If his whole body was covered in the grey pieces of skin they'd found he would have trouble blending in, even tonight. "Can't tell you excatly how he looks at the moment, he might be wearing a mask." she tapped her own, indicating the masked room around them. A few of the guests had removed theirs, especially when they covered their whole faces including their mouths, but a larger part was this wearing theirs, covering the skin around their eyes.

"Did you happen to see him?"

@kenod @BringerOfLight @Kings_way

===============

@bees? @Ashbringer

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You're alright with the man directing us upstairs? We never talked about possible security mechanisms, so I wasn't sure if your characters will know that we are here or not.

 

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you shouldn't need to go beyond the first three floors, which are the public space, as Silas and Tyrian are descending from the private floors to get a drink. the man would probably tell you to just search through bar floors, but he wouldn't say anything more than that, as doing so would put his own life in danger

 

Silas sat down at the bar, spun around in his chair, and then waited for Tyrian to join him. 

"Try and order quickly, as there are some things I'd like to show you upstairs, and I dislike being in public."

@Sorana @Ashbringer

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Tyrian stared at Silas. The man had been trying to kill him about ten minutes ago, and now wanted to have a drink with him.

"I'll have a Red. Rosharian."

Might as well see what this man had to show him.

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"No idea who you're looking for." the man turned away, ignoring her completely and Althea irritated forced herself to stay calm. It wasn't completely surprising given the fact that the club was full, with people waiting to order their drinks. It would be a long, busy night and the man was obviously stressed. Still, she hated this kind of behaviour. It was respectless. "Well, then you most certainly don't mind if I take a look around."

She didn't wait for his reply and instead walked away from the bar, over to the stairs. Walking up a little to gain the height to be able to see over the crowd she scanned the faces, took some time to try to get a look at nearly everybody. There were too many people to be sure, but after a while she turned around and walked up the staircase. Music first grew a little softer, then started again, a different song this time as the neared the second floor.

This one was a little less busy and she walked over to another, smaller bar, this time ordered a drink first. The sparkling white wine shimmered in her glass when she took a first sip. It was sweet, despite a little dryness and she nodded in appreciation. Playing a few chrysts on the wood in front of the man she forced a polite smile on her face. "I am looking for a friend of mine." she started, turned a little around to let her gaze sweep over the guests here. "We agreed to meet, but never talked about the floor - " a laugh, that sounded slightly off in her own ears, but hopefully he would think that the music distorted the sound a little. "He should be wearing a mask, greyish skin, taller than I am."

Her eyes returned to his face, watched for any sign of recognition. There was something, a flicker in his eyes. So he knew him. "Haven't seen him, sorry." the man apologized, and she nodded, made a gesture to wipe the topic off the table. "No need to worry. I'll just give him a call, tell him I'm here." she leaned against the bar, took another stip of her wine and then, after a short moment nodded at him again and wandered off, trying to catch a look at the faces in the bar.

A young woman bumped into her, spilling her wine over her shirt and immediatly apologizing, gesturing with boths hands. She was obviously drunk, her steps staggering, and Althea waved her apologies away, tried to get the wine off her shirt. It was of no use, but at least the lighter colored liquid wouldn't leave a huge dark spot right in the middle of her chest. The woman staggered on, towards the stairs, and she stayed where she was for a moment, listened for a sound that she'd fallen. Nothing reached her ears and she wiped at her shirt again, grimaced at the way it clung to her, at the stink of wine and then focused back on the task at hand, at the faces in the room.

Nothing. So upstairs it was. Carrying her glass with her she walked up another set of stairs, was again greeted by a different kind of song. The third floor was the emptiest, which was far away from it being empty, just a little less crowded than the other two. The music wasn't as deafening, more people were sitting around, talking, eating some fingerfood or drinking wine, beer or whatever type of cocktail they'd chosen.

It didn't take her long to spot the Dustbringer, next to another man at the bar, drinking something. Althea looked back over her shoulder, realizing that for now she had ended up alone, was the first one to reach this floor. Her hand touched her bag, slightly heavier than a few minutes before and then walked over to the bar, leaned against it a few feet next to the Dustbringer and his companion.

"A white wine, please." she repeated her order. "Sparkling, medium dry." The she turned her eyes on the two of them, calmly taking in their appearance. "My name is Althea Tenira." she introduced herself. "And if you could spare a moment of your time, I would like to talk."

@Ashbringer @bees?

Edited by Sorana
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Brin watched Althea mingle around, as he ordered another drink. He was almost feeling the effects- but not quite. He watched her approach these two blokes- wait. That's the Dustbringer! Brin weighed his options, for perhaps the first time in his life: He could,

A. Attack now, think later (which was always a good course of action).
 

OR

B. Hide and let Althea do her work, since the Dustbringer had gotten a good look at him.

He sighed, and thought. Well, yes, it seemed the latter worked best. He ordered another drink for himself, one for Mari, one for Gethen, and one for Max. He brought the drinks over to them.

@Sorana @Kings_way @kenod @I think I am here.

 

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Tyrian sipped at his red, then examined the glass. He wasn't one to frequent bars. Taverns, yes, because taverns attracted interesting individuals, and "interesting" attracted Skybreakers. But bars were often... Tyrian searched for the word. Legal.

The red wine reflected back at him. It was the color of a cherry, or perhaps a bright ruby. About the same colors as his eyes.

He waved at the bartender, who hurriedly refilled the inch of red that he'd drunk. Silas may be a different sort of "interesting" than he was used to, but he had to admit to himself... the man had a form of power that ability enough would never fill.

He stared at the barman, putting the red to his lips, creating a scarlet triangle. The man wilted a bit, edging closer.

"Stormlight," Tyrian said, then watched as the man grabbed a jar full of spheres. Diamond broams, so nothing especially fancy. Tyrian inhaled, letting the Stormlight flow into him, then breathed it out into the crystals around his person. As an afterthought he pulled a broam of his own and placed it in the jar. The man didn't seem to be expecting that. Good.

"My name is Althea Tenira. And if you could spare a moment of your time, I would like to talk," someone said nearby.

Tyrian turned. It was the woman from before. From the van. The Radiant.

Tyrian continued drinking his red, then set it down, tipping his gray hat in aknowledgement.

Then he turned to Silas. 

"We seem to have a visitor," he said.

@bees? @Sorana

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sorry for taking so long to respond I have been camping

"Indeed we do, my compatriot," Silas said, using a small knife to trim his fingernails while appearing to wholly ignore the everyone around him, including the bartender setting down an odd drink in front of him. Silas took a swig and set the drink down on the table with down-turned lips. "What do you say we continue onward with our business and leave them to theirs. Which, obviously, they have, and, if they're any wiser than they look, they'll know to give us some space."

@Sorana @Ashbringer 

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Tyrian nodded, tensing up slightly. This woman... she didn't seem like a destroyer. A danger, but not a destroyer. Still, the Dustbringer mentally checked that his weapons were all in their place. Sickles. Spikes. His...

Tyrian suddenly felt an instinct. His Gift. Silas must not see it.

He wasn't one to question instinct. It had saved him on numerous occasions. From the Skybreakers before he had fully bonded Cinder. From that Brightlord's spearmen who tried to have him executed. Even when he ended up fighting that lord's full guard, he only lost one eye.

As had every man within that castle's walls.

He felt something else within him. Cinder. He seemed terrified of Silas.

Or perhaps it was something else...

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Althea gave herself a moment to take the other man in, the way he cleaned his nails, how he held himself. Their business, so the two of them were working together. And yet, the Dustbringer tensed when the other one spoke, as if he wasn't agreeing, at least not with everything.

"I haven't come to speak to you." she stated, crystalline eyes resting on him for a while longer, "Nor do I particularly care about your business." moving her head a little she looked at the Dustbringer again, the tense way he sat on his stool. His eyes were red, just like the wine he was drinking and she felt a wave of sympathy for him. With eyes like his, with eyes just like her own, he had probably faced a lot of the same things as a child than she had. Or maybe he hadn't. He came from a different place, from another world. Maybe those who lived there were more tolerant of those who were different, whose looks didn't match the general expectiation. She knew how she had to look, the light bright enough to reflect ifself several times on her eyes, the way they had to shine just like the wine in his glass.

Focus. She told herself and concentrated again, on the situation. His eyes didn't matter, not here not now. Maybe latter. And yet the fact alone, that he was the first she met with the same color somehow changed it. She had to talk to him, see if she could help him. If he needed help, or if it was the way Max had suggested. A bad person, or a good one on the wrong path. The situation could explode any minute, she knew it from the way they behaved, how he had imhaled stormlight to ready himself for a battle. How she herself had refreshed her supply to be able to react, to defend herself should it be neccessary.

"I came because of you." she said softly, lifted her glass to her lips again and took a sip, forcefully relaxing her posture in an attempt to disarm the situation. "I'm not armed." her free hand indicated her body, although he would know that she would be able to get her hands on a weapon should it be neccessary. There was no way, for him to have missed Brashen earlier. "I'd like to talk to you." she stated calmly, made sure she kept her anxiety, her nervousness carefully hidden behind a calm face. "About the hole and what happened there."

Her voice skipped a little when the words brought back memories, when she recalled - later. Again a later, but a good later this time. She considered to add something else, to refer to the way he appeared, unhinged and partially out of control, but instead she kept quiet, watched for his reaction. It would hopefully give her another clue, tell her whether he would be open to talk at all.

@Ashbringer @bees?

Edited by Sorana
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Rathi ran into the middle of whatever was going on and said, "'Ello there! I'm a reporter for the Alleyverse Post, would anyone like to be interviewed? A quick summary of events would also help. I'm writing an article on events, but I can't really write about something I wasn't here for." He made a tattoo on his right arm in preparation. Festival: 

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... By "the middle of whatever was going on", do you mean Silas's bar? Or somewhere else? Because Tyrian isn't exactly the type to sit down for an interview.

I'm also using executive powers to say Tyrian is too dense to remember Althea can summon a Shardblade. He knows she's a Radiant, but Cinder is a bit... preoccupied to remind him what that entails. He'll still react if she summons it, though.

Tyrian heard a voice somewhere in the crowd behind him who may or may not have been trying to get his attention. But whoever they were, they would need to do a better job to try and talk to him.

So this Althea wanted... to talk. Tyrian was a little confused by that. They had... fought, hadn't they?

Falling...

The pit. The crevices. The burning in his mind like a siphon of will. And that Dust-cursed Skybreaker. He'd gotten away, hadn't he. He'd forgotten.

But this one... she wasn't fighting. Just... directing. Trying to move him, away, yes, but from what?

"From what?" he said, only half-conscious of the words on his lips.

"I did... what I was paid for. I wanted... out. You... you interfered. The Skybreaker interfered!" he said, voice rising with...

Not hate. Not what he'd expected. Frustration?

He didn't know what he was feeling. Memories, memories with something not right about them. One final word dripped off his lips.

"Broken."

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If this doesn't make much sense, it's not entirely supposed to. Tyrian doesn't have much of a thought process.

 

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Althea waved the reporter away. "Not now." she shook her head, hoped that he would get the clue. "Talk to them." she made a quick motion with her head towards Max and the others. Hopefully they could deal with him. Reporter's. They only got worse the longer the night laster. As if fun stories about drunken ones weren't enough for them.

Broken. She fully turned her attention back to the Dustbringer, wishing he had told her his name. "We are all broken messes." she echoed Max word's at him, words from a conversation long past. She wasn't entirely sure when he had wrapped his arms around her, wiped her tears away and told her that he didn't care about her breakdowns. Because he was broken. Because they all were broken.

She set her glass down, hesitating, usure how to go on. They were talking, more or less. That was good, she figured, as good as she could have hoped for it to be. The only question was, how to go on. Maybe start with a base, something they both had in common. She suppressed a grimace at the thought to let him see, to let him know that she wasn't as controlled as she liked to pretend. That she had to fight every single day. That she had to fight every time she saw a candle, that strong emotions scared her until today. "This is Brashen." She extended a hand and her sprend hopped down on it after shooting her an annoyed glance. He hated to be introduced, paraded around. "And as far as I know, having a spren goes hand in hand with being broken."

Looking down at his dark figure she was silent for a moment, tried to find some comfort in her spren, the courage to go on. "I know how it feels." she added. "When there is nothing but desperation, nothing but a dark pit swallowing you. Nothing but an internal whirlwind dragging you along."

Lifting her eyes to his face again she looked up. "You are not alone."

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I am perfectly fine if he forgot about her blade. It's not as if she has a clue how to use it anyway :P

 

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On 7/29/2020 at 0:59 PM, BringerOfLight said:

Brin watched Althea mingle around, as he ordered another drink. He was almost feeling the effects- but not quite. He watched her approach these two blokes- wait. That's the Dustbringer! Brin weighed his options, for perhaps the first time in his life: He could,

A. Attack now, think later (which was always a good course of action).
 

OR

B. Hide and let Althea do her work, since the Dustbringer had gotten a good look at him.

He sighed, and thought. Well, yes, it seemed the latter worked best. He ordered another drink for himself, one for Mari, one for Gethen, and one for Max. He brought the drinks over to them.

@Sorana @Kings_way @kenod @I think I am here.

 

Gethen accepted the drink and looked around. Althea was sitting with what had to be the man they were chasing, and a rich looking man who looked to smug to be doing anything legal. 

 "Shouldn't we arrest the dustbringer ?" He asked Brin. 

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Sorry, I was on Vacation and haven't posted in a while.

 

Edited by Kings_way
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On 7/20/2020 at 9:43 PM, Voidus said:

"And scoff as some people might it's still rare to see someone venturing along into some of the dark alleys in the cities depths." Laurelai continued, seeking to adopt Lita's earlier tone of semi-interested smalltalk. "Superstition is hardly something to be taken as fact, but if you follow its threads you can usually arrive at some interesting truths."

Lita kept her expression relaxed, still smiling, but allowed herself to tilt her head and observe Laurelai. She was smart - quite smart, though that wasn't all too rare in a city this large and cosmopolitan. She was ambitious too, Lita could see it in her eyes, in the slightly hungry way she leaned towards her looking for that secret which Lita was beginning to dangle before her. It had been a while since they'd taken on anyone at the DoCI - in fact, Lita might have been the most recent recruit, at least into the inner echelons of the organization.

We already considered her father. Clearly the family is talented. Lita mused, taking a measured sip of her port. She had nearly finished it, and was debating a second glass, when she reached into a pocket for her Alleycant pen. Lita drew it out, along with a small notepad, and was halfway through a transmission to Mac before she realized what she was doing.

He's gone, Lita, she told herself, feeling her mouth slip into a small line. She was the Department Head now. It was up to her to evaluate Laurelai. This is what you wanted, she told herself, setting down the pen. Power, influence. All the strings in her hands now. All the cards in her deck. 

"Truths and superstition," Lita said, looking back at Laurelai and smiling again. A colder, sharper smile this time. "Elusive things to chase. More often than not, they have a way of finding you instead, do they not?"

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Wait, was Mac a department head in this universe too, or is Lita's memory slipping up?

 

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2 hours ago, kenod said:

Wait, was Mac a department head in this universe too, or is Lita's memory slipping up?

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He was in this universe too, he just handed Lita the reigns before he left in this version.

 

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On 8/4/2020 at 11:48 PM, Sorana said:

"This is Brashen." She extended a hand and her sprend hopped down on it after shooting her an annoyed glance. He hated to be introduced, paraded around. "And as far as I know, having a spren goes hand in hand with being broken."

Looking down at his dark figure she was silent for a moment, tried to find some comfort in her spren, the courage to go on. "I know how it feels." she added. "When there is nothing but desperation, nothing but a dark pit swallowing you. Nothing but an internal whirlwind dragging you along."

Lifting her eyes to his face again she looked up. "You are not alone."

Not alone.

The phrase stirred something within him. Something more than just... frustration.

His fingers clenched around his wine glass. Not alone. He gave a low chuckle.

He'd never been alone.

First everyone on Scadrial, desperately asking and archiving every way his Leeching worked. Roshar, being watched by so many. Cinder, never leaving his side. The Skybreakers never giving him peace. And his Gift.

Some part of him knew Cinder was supposed to be his friend. Some other part knew that his Gift was supposed to be... something else. But at this point he didn't care.

"I am never alone," he said, refusing to look at the Radiant.

 

 

On 8/5/2020 at 10:19 AM, Kings_way said:

 "Shouldn't we arrest Tyrian?" He asked Brin. 

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I'm not sure if anyone knows Tyrian's name yet. Also, that is a very bad idea in a bar full of collateral damage civilians. :P

@Sorana@bees?

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9 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

"I am never alone," he said, refusing to look at the Radiant.

"That is true is suppose." She stayed where she was, close but not too close to intrude into his personal space. He was dangerous. The moment they touched, he could rip her apart all the while she could turn him to stone. Chances were that they both ended up dead or severly injured. She couldn't see his spren, but the way he refused to look at her told her another small part of the story. This was no happy Radiant refering to his friend. This was someone hunted, someone who refered to an enemy nearby, always searching for him, always at the wrong place. She stopped herself, tried not to read too much in his reaction. Not to see that much of herself in his reaction. He wasn't her past, he was a different person.

"Will you repeat what you've done?" she changed the topic. It wouldn't do well to press the matter, not until she knew a little more about it. "Set a building on fire, hurt those living inside?" It was a question, but it wasn't the question. The real question was whether he had done it on purpose, or if the building had been nothing but a side product, something that happened when he fled. Intention. Somehow it always came back to intention. She could accept an accidently burning building. She couldn't accept one that had been set on fire because he wanted to. Because he liked.

Lifting her glance she took another sip, careful to maintain her relaxed facade, while at the same time trying to ready herself to his next words. She wasn't sure how he would react, but there was a high chance for him to explode. And she had to be ready should that happen. Gently she reached out for him with her toughts, touched the realms around him. If this turned into a fight, so would probably have to relocate them, make sure the destruction happened without any civilians around.

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17 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

Not e.

The e. Something e.

His e. Not e. He e.

He'd e.

First e. Roshar, e. Cinder, e. The e.

Some e. Some e... something e. But e.

"I e," he e.

@Sorana@bees?

Silas sat and waited, sipping again from his drink. He was surprised that the other Radiant was questioning Tyrian instead of him, but he was content, as he'd had much time in the spotlight, even more so in his last life than this one. What an interesting time that was, being young and beautiful. And dangerous. Silas was not the man that he used to be, not anymore. Silas kicked back and downed he rest of his drink in a single go, then looked out at the rest of the gathering crowd.

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On 8/6/2020 at 11:20 PM, Sorana said:

"Will you repeat what you've done?" she changed the topic. It wouldn't do well to press the matter, not until she knew a little more about it. "Set a building on fire, hurt those living inside?" It was a question, but it wasn't the question. The real question was whether he had done it on purpose, or if the building had been nothing but a side product, something that happened when he fled. Intention. Somehow it always came back to intention. She could accept an accidently burning building. She couldn't accept one that had been set on fire because he wanted to. Because he liked.

Lifting her glance she took another sip, careful to maintain her relaxed facade, while at the same time trying to ready herself to his next words. She wasn't sure how he would react, but there was a high chance for him to explode. And she had to be ready should that happen. Gently she reached out for him with her thoughts, touched the realms around him. If this turned into a fight, so would probably have to relocate them, make sure the destruction happened without any civilians around.

What he'd done?

Tyrian had done a lot of things. Especially near the van.

The... building? He'd been getting away. He'd been... running.

Falling...

Don't think about that now, something said. Cinder? The... no. Just a voice in his mind?

Tyrian looked - his hand was smoking slightly. He moved the Stormlight he'd somehow inhaled back into his gems, took a large gulp of his red, then set it roughly down on the counter. The bartender filled it again. He gave a side look, saw Silas was disinterested, then glanced at Althea. She was... tense?

"I... fell. Then I landed," Tyrian said. "You followed. I had landed, and you followed..."

Never alone. Tyrian sighed.

"The battle is done. Did you lose?"

And he turned and took a sip of his wine.

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