A Masked Dance

[Ashbringer]

Ow.

Byron lay on the ground, groaning slightly. He tried moving his legs a bit. Nothing seemed to be broken, but he was sure more bumps and bruises would show up in time. He might have cracked a rib. His cadmium bubble was still flaring a bit - some form of protective instinct. The slower the bubble, the more of a feeling the edge gave to him.

He felt someone hesitantly slipping through the bubble. Byron looked up, still moving slower than he felt he could. An old thief's instinct was to look more helpless than you really were - pity made people careless. Plus, he didn't want to be suprised with a torn muscle. But it seemed those were both unnecessary.

"Aln? That... that was fast," Byron replied weakly. Remember, she still thinks you're called Ben. At this point, the name had become more of a nickname for Byron than an alias. He liked the name.

Why was he thinking about this now? I might have hit my head harder than I'd thought. It had knocked his mask off. 

He turned back up towards Aln, who was now joined by the man with glasses from before. There was a bit of a crowd around outside his bubble, but he couldn't see the white-haired lady anywhere. He tried to sit up a bit. "I think I'm alright. Mostly hit my chest. Just... dazed," he said, trying to see if he knew the man.

He looked up and gave a crooked grin. "And did I at least stick the landing?"

@Rushu42 @Silva

[Rushu42]

2 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

Ow.

Byron lay on the ground, groaning slightly. He tried moving his legs a bit. Nothing seemed to be broken, but he was sure more bumps and bruises would show up in time. He might have cracked a rib. His cadmium bubble was still flaring a bit - some form of protective instinct. The slower the bubble, the more of a feeling the edge gave to him.

He felt someone hesitantly slipping through the bubble. Byron looked up, still moving slower than he felt he could. An old thief's instinct was to look more helpless than you really were - pity made people careless. Plus, he didn't want to be suprised with a torn muscle. But it seemed those were both unnecessary.

"Aln? That... that was fast," Byron replied weakly. Remember, she still thinks you're called Ben. At this point, the name had become more of a nickname for Byron than an alias. He liked the name.

Why was he thinking about this now? I might have hit my head harder than I'd thought. It had knocked his mask off. 

He turned back up towards Aln, who was now joined by the man with glasses from before. There was a bit of a crowd around outside his bubble, but he couldn't see the white-haired lady anywhere. He tried to sit up a bit. "I think I'm alright. Mostly hit my chest. Just... dazed," he said, trying to see if he knew the man.

He looked up and gave a crooked grin. "And did I at least stick the landing?"

@Rushu42 @Silva

Aln tentatively returned the smile. "I'm glad you're alright, Ben. I didn't see what happened myself, but my spren was in the area. Would you like some stormlight healing?"

She longed to ask him what had happened, and why he ran, but being bombarded with questions rarely helps when you're injured. The fact that he had kept his bubble burning while hurt likely indicated some form of savantism. And, from her spren's description, the bubble had traveled with him when hit by the van. More to ask him about; she'd never met a cadmium savant before.

[Archer]

8 hours ago, mathiau said:

A wall exploded, causing NullBlade to move backward in his surprise -and step down from Kingston. He then fully drew his sword, and cut his cape off in the process. "You're right, I have a secret: I hate it when people make walls explode while I'm talking to them."

"Hey, I have the same phobia! I find explosion-prone people incredibly boring." Kingston rolled smoothly to his feet, hands hovering in front of his chest, neither going for his satchel or into a fighting stance just yet. He'd rather diffuse the situation so he could get to figuring out what everyone was so excited about over by that van. "That's a cool blade, I've never seen one like that. Then again, I don't know much about swords."

The Smedry smiled at a passing woman who was holding a rapier he'd given her earlier in the night while eating a hot-dog. "Hey, I need to borrow that!" In a flash, he stuck out his hand. She passed him the hot-dog. Two seconds later, Kingston was in a well-practiced fencing stance, hot-dog raised to strike. 

He stared at the half-eaten meat. "Thanks, that's, uh, exactly what I was looking for. Look, NullBlade, we can talk this out easily enough..." Kingston lowered his 'weapon', sliding it beneath his jacket. A fair amount of ketchup smeared over his lower left-side ribs. He used his Disguiser's Lens to hide the smears and made a quick tactical decision. 

"We're all full fledged TUBAists here, right, friend?"

[Ashbringer]

7 hours ago, Rushu42 said:

Aln tentatively returned the smile. "I'm glad you're alright, Ben. I didn't see what happened myself, but my spren was in the area. Would you like some stormlight healing?"

“Uhh... sure,” Byron replied. His mind seemed to be working as quickly as ever, although his thoughts were traveling in some odd directions. He became suddenly aware at how many eyes were looking at him. Aln seemed nice enough, but he had no idea about the rest of them. He’d never been Regrown before, although he had some idea of the concept. Roshar as he knew it was a much older place, during the Era of Solitude, well before the Radiants began returning.

Well, before most of them returned. There were a few exceptions. Byron shuddered. Violent, dangerous exceptions. Time to think of something else.

Aln’s spren was in the area while she wasn’t. That explained why he felt like he was being watched, although it felt like there had been more than one... thing... watching him. He wasn’t sure; everything felt muddled. But why did Aln want to keep an eye on him? She was helping him  now. That didn’t make sense.

People don’t always make sense. My brain is still messing with me. That’s why Aln’s actions look suspicious.

Right?

[little wheel]

Silas  woke up, still inside of the van. Yes, still inside the van, but not as it had been before. The most important change was that his tether, that man who had been burning away his ability to use his Aethers, was no longer in contact with him. For a minute amount of time, Silas was out of contact with the Leecher guard, so he used that moment of time to push with everything he could against the casing around his right arm, Amberite crystals growing and pushing their hardest, barely weakening the aluminum alloy surrounding his arm and leaving him feeling deeply exhausted. The regular flow of time resumed, and the Leecher guard looked down at Silas, laughed, and continued to burn chromium.

@anyone who wants to help, again

[18th Shard]

The man in the white robe awoke. He was laying in a bed with soft, white cushions, almost like his robe. That was good, because the light didn’t like his robe. Maybe that meant it wouldn’t like this bed either. He sat up. The rest of the room was metal and white tile. That was also good. It reminded the man in the white robe of a place he liked. He didn’t remember that place but he remembered liking it. The metal and tile made it easy to clean up blood. A woman walked past the little window in the door. She saw him awake and came in. She was mostly wearing her own face, not like the other people he had seen. She was trying to subtly mask minute variations in skin color, but the man in the white robe remembered that was normal for a lot of people who still had their own faces. She shook his hand.

“Hi, my name is Emily. I am one of the nurses here. What is your name?” the nurse asked happily.

The man in the white robe thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I have a name. Is that important?”

The nurse pursed her lips. “Well, amnesia is usually a sign of some kind of trauma, so it is a little worrying.” She pulled a clipboard off a hook on the wall and handed it to him with a marker. “Try writing your name without looking. Maybe your muscle memory will be able to recall what your conscious mind can’t.”

The man in the white robe closed his eyes and began to write with his right hand. The marker smelled funny, kind of like paint but not. He opened his eyes. The nurse looked over his shoulder at the word on the page. “Good job!”

“No, that is wrong. It is very bad. Not good. Very un-good.” Why did people make up big words for bad? Like awful and terrible and terrific and tyrannosaurus and tertiary and other ter- words. He swapped the marker to his left hand and began to write again below the other word. The lines were more straight, which was good. Bad lines made for bad Forgeries. The man in the white robe finished writing. The Thaylen glyphs spelled something. The man in the white robe tilted his head. It didn’t look like his name. Names were supposed to look like names, not like letters, he thought. Letters were like body parts - if they go together wrong, you just get a mess.

The nurse read it aloud. “Sanax. Is that your name, dear?” 

“No. Maybe. I don’t think it is my name. Do I have to have a name? I just think me. I think that makes more sense than Sanax. Sanaz sounds like sanitary, and sanction and sandwich and sandbar and sandcastle. I don't like sandcastles. They fall apart too easy.”

The woman shook her head. “I think you have some pretty severe cognitive damage. I wish we could get more indicators on you. It’s so hard to tell what is wrong with you when normal biological measurements don’t seem to work. No pulse, no blood pressure, ambient temperature - it’s similar to some kind of Lifeless, but then again, they don't have cognitive functions.”

“Standard biochromatic nomenclature doesn’t include a designation on the kind of construct I am. Maybe note a Type 1.5 Biochromatic entity on the record - a sentient manifestation in a deceased host, though non-spontaneous and without a Biochromatic endowment.” Sanax started playing with the pen, doodling. He started drawing lines and circles, forming complex Rithmatic constructions. He liked the triangles - they had nice points, especially when the angles were right. Angles like that one were good for piercing things.

The nurse was looking at him. Sanax felt a little self-conscious. It wasn’t his fault the triangles wanted to take the circle’s power. That was why it was a triangle. It wouldn’t do that if it were a square. He drew a hexagon around the circle to protect it. Maybe then she would stop looking at him?

“What did you just say? A type one point five Biochromatic entity that what?”

Sanax looked up. “I didn’t say that. I was just protecting the circles from the triangles. See?” He held up the clipboard to show her. The acute triangle and the isosceles were fighting now. They kept shooting the little squiggles at each other, though Xanas was having trouble drawing them shooting at the same time.

She stared at the board for a second. “Follow me,” she finally said. "I want to test something."

She opened the door and they walked to a nearby room. She unlocked a door with a shiny key that she took out of a pocket and opened the door partly. “What is wrong with this woman?”

Sanax peeked in the window. Just cause the door was open didn’t mean you wanted to look in through one. Windows were for looking. Doors were for going places. Anybody would know that. A woman laid down on the bed in the room. Her fingers on one hand were a different color than the other. She looked very fancy. Probably a liar with fancy clothes like that. You only wear fancy clothes if you want someone distracted from your eyeballs. Her fingernails were a slate-grey, just like the veins in her legs. Her feet were black and crusty, which looked like it was probably really not good. Sanax didn’t know though. Some people liked their feet like that, probably. She was also dead. 

“I don’t know what is wrong with her. Dead people usually look less boring, maybe? Sometimes you can see their insides. She doesn’t look very nice on the outside, though. Her face looks cranky. Maybe that’s cause of all the rocks in her blood. That has to be really painful, almost as painful as waking up when you sat on your hands for a long time. Lots of pins and needles and spikes, and then you can feel the blood in your hands. Not very nice, except for other people. She is probably used to it though. Becoming a Soulcasting savant takes a really long time. Gangrene doesn’t take as long though, but I think,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “maybe she liked her feet a lot. Personally, I would have cut them off and used them as a doorstop.” He shivered. “Except maybe then the light would get in and I would have to throw the feet away.”

The nurse looked at him with a mixture of amazement and disgust. “You could tell from here she was a Soulcaster?” Sanax thought her expression was funny. Soulcasting wasn’t that gross. Maybe she was just amazed she hadn’t thought of the doorstops.

“I can get the doorstops for you if you want,” he said. She shook her head no, wrote something down, than walked with him back to the room he woke up in. That was good. Sanax liked that room. Maybe his friend would like the room too. He sat down on the bed. 
The nurse looked at him again, then shook her head and closed the door.
________________________________________________
Emily walked to the break room. Sanax, if that really was his name, had something very unusual going on upstairs. He alternated between incredibly perceptive and child-like extremely rapidly, and didn’t seem to have a concrete sense of self. And a sentient Lifeless? She saw a lot of weird things, but this one was definitely up there. She sat in the break room, pulling out her dinner. She’d packed chicken noodle soup. She'd made extra, since it was her daughter’s favorite meal. Wait, I don’t have a daughter. Emily could feel pressure in her forehead, like a migraine just starting to grow. She didn’t have a kid. Maybe she was thinking of one of her nieces? She rubbed her eyes and started eating. She needed to stop working late night shifts and get some decent sleep. How sleep deprived do you have to be to imagine you have a kid? She should put in a request for a day off. Maybe the next holiday, she shouldn't volunteer to work, even if she did need the money.

[Rushu42]

1 hour ago, Ashbringer said:

“Uhh... sure,” Byron replied. His mind seemed to be working as quickly as ever, although his thoughts were traveling in some odd directions. He became suddenly aware at how many eyes were looking at him. Aln seemed nice enough, but he had no idea about the rest of them. He’d never been Regrown before, although he had some idea of the concept. Roshar as he knew it was a much older place, during the Era of Solitude, well before the Radiants began returning.

Well, before most of them returned. There were a few exceptions. Byron shuddered. Violent, dangerous exceptions. Time to think of something else.

Aln’s spren was in the area while she wasn’t. That explained why he felt like he was being watched, although it felt like there had been more than one... thing... watching him. He wasn’t sure; everything felt muddled. But why did Aln want to keep an eye on him? She was helping him  now. That didn’t make sense.

People don’t always make sense. My brain is still messing with me. That’s why Aln’s actions look suspicious.

Right?

Aln inhaled deeply, and stormlight streamed from her pockets to diffuse throughout her body. A rush of strength and lucidity accompanied the Investiture, but she wasted no time in savoring the sensation. She placed a hand on his shoulder and poured Progression into the man. Surrounded by strangers, as she was, the act was refreshingly easy. 

"Would you mind letting me know what happened?" Aln asked, as the stormlight faded. "My spren said that you were not hit by the van, but that you flew backward like you had been. Does this have to do with your cadmium, or is it separate Investiture?"

As she mentioned the cadmium, her eyes flicked briefly up. Past the faint shimmering in the air, the world still moved unnaturally quickly. With a flicker of humor, she realized that her mandated 2 hours at this party would be shortened the longer she spent beside Ben. I wonder if Torenat will declare that to be cheating. I don't believe he has much ground for complaint, though; I am meeting new people.

[Ashbringer]

45 minutes ago, 18th Shard said:

A woman laid down on the bed in the room. Her fingers on one hand were a different color than the other. She looked very fancy. Probably a liar with fancy clothes like that. You only wear fancy clothes if you want someone distracted from your eyeballs. Her fingernails were a slate-grey, just like the veins in her legs. Her feet were black and crusty, which looked like it was probably really not good. Sanax didn’t know though. Some people liked their feet like that, probably. She was also dead.

Quote

*Reassures self that Cassie is safe and sound in Silberfarben’s shop and Soulcasts metal instead of stone*

40 minutes ago, Rushu42 said:

"Would you mind letting me know what happened?" Aln asked, as the stormlight faded. "My spren said that you were not hit by the van, but that you flew backward like you had been. Does this have to do with your cadmium, or is it separate Investiture?"

Byron scratched his scalp, feeling the laceration there disappear. Now that was a healing power. He sat up a bit, still staying on the ground but showing he could get up on his own. His cadmium burn finally calmed down a bit - still there, but only stealing about a second every ten. As it always did.

Byron turned to Aln. “It’s just something that my cadmium bubble does. I can... feel when things go through the bubble, as if the object’s pushing on the bubble and I’m pushing back. Normally I can hold my ground, but the bigger or faster the thing is, the harder it pushes.”

Byron looked back toward where the van was. “It’s fairly useful. Lets me know if something’s getting close to me. But the van was so strong it just blew me away. It’s not the first time.”

This was, however, the first time he’d talked about his abilities in depth to someone. On Roshar, what he could do was unheard of, an ability only paralleled by the boons of the Nightwatcher. Here, it still wasn’t commonplace, but people could recognize a cadmium bubble. And recognize his powers not as mystical, merely... unusual.

Byron still wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell Aln what she wanted to know. Maybe because she offered to help; maybe because she freely admitted her spren had been watching him. No, looking out for you. You did get yourself into trouble.

He turned back to Aln and the other man. “By the way, what happened to the van?”

[+Sorana]

Althea waited until the Van straightened again, continued to drive away. Nobody broke out of it, nobody attempted to near it. She signaled Brashen to stay outside and keep looking at it, then turned to those that had started to stop to spectate. With a smile on her face she politely asked them to leave, told them that there was nothing to see, and while some ignored her, at least most turned around and slowly walked back to the fire, or left the place through adjacent streets.

She waited for a little while longer, with the leader of the scholar's guild and Eiran taking care of the injured one, she didn't worry about him, not with someone able to use progression at hand. Only when she was sure that for now, no danger was waiting in some corner she relaxed a little. And now. She could leave. turn around and leave the three behind. Messing with another guild, especially leader - she doubted anything good could come from it. In the end someone would scream treason, or the woman realized who she belonged to and decided to keep her around for questioning. Althea supressed a sigh at her own worries. She rarely cared about the guilds, they weren't that powerful anyway, but their leaders, they were something different. You didn't manage to lead a guild with nothing but charity in your head. It might be your goal - but the path there was a bloody one. Always. And if only because the city and its politics forced one war after the other on you.

Considering her options for a moment she finally took a step forward and into the bubble. Polite she had to be polite, make sure she said nothing that could be used against her. Self-confident, make sure she wasn't discarded as a mere pawn to use, but present herself as an asset. If she mana

"Hello." she greeted those inside calmly and then turned to the man. "I apologize for not checking on you earlier, but as I saw that you were taken care of, I took the time to ensure the Van was continuing on its way. Which it is for now."

Her eyes moved over to the guild leader and she inclined her head respectfully before she added. "We suspect, that there might be a prisoner inside of the vehicle and that maybe a break-out is planned. But as nobody used that chance or left the Van I think it is safe to assume that they are still inside. Additionally The Van didn't suffer any obvious damage from this accident." Althea noticed a slight formal tone entering her voice, calm and neutral, as if she was reporting to one of her superiors.

@Ashbringer

@Rushu42 @Silva

==========

Vivi hopped from one leg to the other, listened to her father talk and talk and talk and talk. Don't do this, don't go into the dark places. The only thing missing was, that he wasn't asking not to jump into the fire. Her eyes rested on the fire for a moment. Jump above the fire. It was large enough that the flames were as high as her head, but if she started to run early enough and then jumped, moved through it fast enough so that the flames didn't burn her. Later. When her father was gone, then she would tackle this. For now she was hungry and he had promised to get them some food.

She rushed after her family towards the right side of the place, when she noticed that she had been left a little behind again, moved through the crowd. For a moment she couldn't see them, only masked people dancing and laughing and drinking. She was wearing her own mask too. It was a new one, and she loved it. It was yellow and it had glitter all over it. Especially the glitter she liked a lot. Looking around she tried to find them, a sense of dread rising in her chest. Alone. She had lost them and was alone. Throwing her hair back she told herself, that she was old enough to deal with it, that she was strong, but she only felt alone. This wasn't funny anymore. Her hands shook a little and her eyes started to burn, but she grit her teeth. Her father wouldn't cry because he was temporarily alone. He would find a solution. Reval would find a solution. Only she was standing here, useless and about to cry like a toddler.

Climbing on a nearest stall, despite the owner's protests she was able to see the different people, moving through the crowd. She saw the dancers close to those playing music. Fear reached out for her throat when she couldn't make them out, when her eyes swept over the crowd again and again, until she finally saw them close to the food stalls. Hopping down again she hastily she pushed herself through slips in the crowd, was small enough to use spaces the adults could use anymore and finally she saw the two of them again. Running over she grabbed her fathers hand and held on tight, no wishing to be lost again soon. Instead she looked up at him with wide eyes, smiling, her fear already forgotten..

"Can I get some cotton candy?"

@I think I am here.

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

Zokora neared the festivities when her device made a soft buzz and she frowned took it out. Her face nearly fell when she read the message. A missing report. There was a missing report. All thoughts about the masquerade left her mind and instead she turned around, hastened back. She had to get to the Archives. Now. The needed to find this report.

Edited May 21, 2020 by Sorana

[mathiau]

12 hours ago, Archer said:

"Hey, I have the same phobia! I find explosion-prone people incredibly boring." Kingston rolled smoothly to his feet, hands hovering in front of his chest, neither going for his satchel or into a fighting stance just yet. He'd rather diffuse the situation so he could get to figuring out what everyone was so excited about over by that van. "That's a cool blade, I've never seen one like that. Then again, I don't know much about swords."

The Smedry smiled at a passing woman who was holding a rapier he'd given her earlier in the night while eating a hot-dog. "Hey, I need to borrow that!" In a flash, he stuck out his hand. She passed him the hot-dog. Two seconds later, Kingston was in a well-practiced fencing stance, hot-dog raised to strike. 

He stared at the half-eaten meat. "Thanks, that's, uh, exactly what I was looking for. Look, NullBlade, we can talk this out easily enough..." Kingston lowered his 'weapon', sliding it beneath his jacket. A fair amount of ketchup smeared over his lower left-side ribs. He used his Disguiser's Lens to hide the smears and made a quick tactical decision. 

"We're all full fledged TUBAists here, right, friend?"

Finally, he was taking this slightly seriously. Although he just said he was a full fledged TUBAists when he'd said he'd just handled the application forms.

"Well answer these questions and I'll leave you be: Why did you throw that sword? Why did you explode that wall? And why did you say the sword was a doorstop?"

 

[I think I am here.]

6 hours ago, Sorana said:

Running over she grabbed her fathers hand and held on tight, no wishing to be lost again soon. Instead she looked up at him with wide eyes, smiling, her fear already forgotten..

"Can I get some cotton candy?"

Max looked down when he felt a small hand grab at his, grinned when saw Vivacia peering back up at him through a golden mask. Though the night was loud and bright and it sent every part of Max into defensive-mode, the face of sheer excitement he saw on his daughter’s face more than made up for it. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but he could do his part to make the festival best he could for the ones he cared about.

“You heard the girl. A stick of cotton candy. Actually get one for me too.” He looked down and widened his eyes mischievously at Vivacia for a second. “We can have matching sweets. Reval, you want one too?”

Max looked to his other side, where the boy was looking up and down a sign while the store worker got busy making the cotton candy. “No, I’ll have... a bar of chocolate,” Reval said, and smiled on earnest when Max nodded.

“Chocolate it is,” Max said, and placed a few chrysts on the countertop. The storekeeper snatched them up greedily and stretched out two sticks of cotton candy and one bar of chocolate. Max took the two sticks and handed one to Vivacia, allowing Reval to grab the bar.

“Um, I might leave soon,” Reval said after a moment, and looked around, then at Max. “To meet up with friends, you know. I’ll be back soon. An hour or two. No dark alleys, I promise.”

Max nodded absentmindedly. Did Reval think he could fool him? If the kid wanted to go out alone, have some time exploring the festival without his father watching over him - he only had to ask. Didn’t need this excuse about ‘friends‘ and meeting them. Internally, Max sighed, and showing none of his tiredness he looked down at his side with a smile, taking a bite of his cotton candy. Very sweet, but sort of nice. Definitely high quality.

“Vivi, what do you say? You want to go with Reval or stay with me? I’m probably just going to stay in this little area, buying things and maybe meeting up with some other adults.”

Edited May 21, 2020 by I think I am here.

[Rushu42]

7 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

Byron scratched his scalp, feeling the laceration there disappear. Now that was a healing power. He sat up a bit, still staying on the ground but showing he could get up on his own. His cadmium burn finally calmed down a bit - still there, but only stealing about a second every ten. As it always did.

Byron turned to Aln. “It’s just something that my cadmium bubble does. I can... feel when things go through the bubble, as if the object’s pushing on the bubble and I’m pushing back. Normally I can hold my ground, but the bigger or faster the thing is, the harder it pushes.”

Byron looked back toward where the van was. “It’s fairly useful. Lets me know if something’s getting close to me. But the van was so strong it just blew me away. It’s not the first time.”

This was, however, the first time he’d talked about his abilities in depth to someone. On Roshar, what he could do was unheard of, an ability only paralleled by the boons of the Nightwatcher. Here, it still wasn’t commonplace, but people could recognize a cadmium bubble. And recognize his powers not as mystical, merely... unusual.

Byron still wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell Aln what she wanted to know. Maybe because she offered to help; maybe because she freely admitted her spren had been watching him. No, looking out for you. You did get yourself into trouble.

He turned back to Aln and the other man. “By the way, what happened to the van?”

Fascinating. It's almost certainly a result of savantism, although it's possible that a similar effect could be granted if his natural ability was supplemented by a hemalurgic spike. It seems as if his spirit web has been altered enough that his cadmium bubble actually manifests as a part of him. And, of course, I left my notebook at home today, so I can't record any of this. Sighing internally, she started to answer Ben's question, but realized that his eyes were fixed on a point behind her. She turned quickly. There was another person in the bubble - no, two other people; a man with glasses stood near a stern woman with white hair. The latter was talking.

7 hours ago, Sorana said:

"...Van was continuing on its way. Which it is for now."

Her eyes moved over to the guild leader and she inclined her head respectfully before she added. "We suspect, that there might be a prisoner inside of the vehicle and that maybe a break-out is planned. But as nobody used that chance or left the Van I think it is safe to assume that they are still inside. Additionally The Van didn't suffer any obvious damage from this accident." Althea noticed a slight formal tone entering her voice, calm and neutral, as if she was reporting to one of her superiors.

Aln returned the nod, cursing herself for facing away from the road, then frowned in thought. A prisoner? How would she know that? "I didn't have a clear view of the vehicle, myself," she said. "Did it have any identifying marks? Or a license plate number?" 

She didn't recognize the woman, although she had the faintest sense that she shouldn't be bowing to Aln. She supposed she just wasn't used to anyone deferring to her; she was a guild leader, true, but the SG was one of the smallest in the city. The status rarely carried any weight.

@Silva

[Silva]

1 hour ago, Rushu42 said:

Aln returned the nod, cursing herself for facing away from the road, then frowned in thought. A prisoner? How would she know that? "I didn't have a clear view of the vehicle, myself," she said. "Did it have any identifying marks? Or a license plate number?" 

His acquaintance from earlier appeared to be showing this woman respect, so he determined she must have some important role in the city. Not knowing what, Eiran kept his tone formal, like most always.

"Nothing obvious, unfortunately," Eiran said. "It seemed designed not to be all that memorable."

He was somewhat relieved. The number of poor outcomes he saw had decreased by a lot. It was possible nothing bad would happen at all.

What are the odds that? he thought sarcastically. 

His phone buzzed slightly. Strange. Did the cadmium bubble even interfere with that stuff? He wasn't sure. Eiran took it out and looked at the message. It was from TUBA. A code beige. Meaning...missing report? He skimmed the rest. His guess was correct. Memorizing that whole chart hadn't been for nothing. Once things around here calmed more he'd head on over. So much for starting the following morning. 

[Ashbringer]

Byron looked past Aln, at the couple from before. The white-haired lady had evidently lost interest in the van, which seemed to be completely unaffected by running through his bubble, and was discussing the event with . The other man had rushed over to help him, but he seemed a bit at a loss for what to do while Aln had used Regrowth to heal him. Now the man was just looking at his phone.

Byron stood up, watching the three unlikely rescuers. They're just as confused as I am, aren't they?

"I don't mean to be rude," Byron said, looking at the unfamiliar individuals, "but... who exactly are you?"

Quote

The bubble shouldn't affect text/signal messaging that much, just a slight delay in sending/recieving. Phone calls and spanreeds may be more glitchy, but doable. As of now, I'm saying sound from outside is sped up, like watching a video at x1.5 speed (or rather, x1.1 speed) and vice versa from inside. Managable, but a little harder to understand people accross the bubble even at low levels of slowing.

 

[Silva]

4 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

"I don't mean to be rude," Byron said, looking at the unfamiliar individuals, "but... who exactly are you?"

Eiran glanced up. The guy who'd taken a tumble was looking at him and his white-haired friend. Were they friends? Sort of. Friends that would likely never encounter one another again and who didn't know each others' names. Then, he supposed, not really friends. The term he'd been using previously, acquaintance, fit better.

He considered the man's question. "I don't mean to be rude, but who exactly are you?"

Given that this was a stranger and they were currently attending a masked festival, his name didn't seem like a great thing to hand out. Not that this man seemed like the type to later hunt him down and kill him. No. It just didn't feel right--like it would ruin the mood.

Instead he countered with a question that left him wondering if it sounded to cryptic. "Does it matter?"

It really was how he felt. What did it matter who they were? Should that change anything? If a murderer gave a crying kid a treat (not a sword) to get them to stop crying, did it make a difference that they'd killed three people the previous day? Was their "good" action now any less "good"? Why might people even think that could be the case?

Why, what, why, why, how, was, who, why, should, which, why, why, why.

His brain could go around like that all day, analyzing a topic until it was so thoroughly mutilated he didn't know where it started, if he didn't stop it early. He stopped it then. He already had enough to focus on, enough thoughts clouding his head. Enough distractions from the real reason he'd even come to the city in the first place. Enough diversions from his true cause.

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What Eiran knows doesn't always necessarily reflect what others IC or us OOC know. He's a little...new to a lot of this. (@Ashbringer)

 

[Archer]

16 hours ago, mathiau said:

Finally, he was taking this slightly seriously. Although he just said he was a full fledged TUBAists when he'd said he'd just handled the application forms. "Well answer these questions and I'll leave you be: Why did you throw that sword? Why did you explode that wall? And why did you say the sword was a doorstop?"

Kingston wished that the nice man hadn’t asked so many questions which he was both situationally and physically incapable of answering. The Epic’s curiosity was admirable, but he couldn’t just hand out his marketing secrets to anyone who asked. Imagine the chaos that would ensue if every advertiser in the Alleycity found out that you could sell stuff faster simply by lying about its properties. It could up-end the whole economy!

Kingston glanced conspiratorially over his shoulder, then shuffled in close and whispered to NullBlade. “I won’t answer your questions because I have a much cleaner way of dissolving this tension between us. Look at my ribs -but for the Survivor’s sake, be subtle man, I don’t want anyone else to see!” The Smedry pulled open his bomber jacket to reveal a gaping illusionary stab wound, jagged and burnt around the edges, complete with fake blood pouring out thanks to the ketchup he’d smeared there earlier. It was gruesome. As he did, he used his free hand to attempt to pick NullBlade’s pocket, drawing on his years of training from his ex-team of librarian special operatives to try to slip away some sort of identification or TUBA-issued access card.

(Author’s note: If he doesn’t carry a wallet or ID card, that’s fine, Kingston will just slip his hand out and carry on.)

“I haven’t seen many stab wounds in my time,” Kingston continued, stepping back, “but I reckon this will be enough to fool a couple people.” He suddenly jerked his body backwards, bending at the waist, gaping up at NullBlade in feigned shock. The movement caught the attention of a passing couple. The man grabbed his fiancé’s arm as Kingston showed them the wound.

“My word, sir, are you alright?”

Kingston locked eyes with him, speaking slowly, carefully stressing each word. “NullBlade stabbed me.”

“Good grief! NullBlade stabbed you! Someone should really get a constable. Hello! Has anyone seen a constable?”

Behind his double pair of lenses, Kingston’s dark eyes looked back to NullBlade, cold and calculating. He began stepping backwards into the throng of festival goers around them, a growing number of which who had stopped dancing in response to the minor commotion.

(Sorry to do this to you, Mathiau. This is going to be awkward when they meet in the next thread.)

"Where are those constables, dear? And who the bloody blazes is NullBlade?"

[+Sorana]

20 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“Vivi, what do you say? You want to go with Reval or stay with me? I’m probably just going to stay in this little area, buying things and maybe meeting up with some other adults.”

Vivi happily took her cotton candy and used her fingers to pluck a part of. She put it in her mouth and smiled when it melted, leaving pure sweetness behind. She grinned and lifted it to her mouth, took a bite. A small part of it sticked at her nose and cheeks, but the fluffy part that she managed to bite off made it worth. Laughing she used her sleeve to wipe her face.

"I'll go with Rev." she decided quickly. Adult stuff was boring, but maybe she could convince Reval to do something funny. Maybe he would even jump over the fire with her. "Who do you want to meet?" she asked him, excited to meet his friends. They were as old as he was, as incredibly cool. Her own friends would envy her, when they learned that she managed to spend the festival night with some of his friends. Monica had a crush on him, for as long as Vivi knew her, and she sometimes suspected that they were only friends because it gave Monica a chance to drop by and say hi to Reval.

Looking at him she realized that he hadn't asked her to come along, had only spoken about himself. Knowing that she sometimes went on his nerves by tagging along when he was doing 'boy's stuff', she hesitated moved from one foot to the other. Looking up at him, she put on her best nice face and smiled. "I'll be nice, I promise. And I won't disturb you at all."

Looking at her cotton candy she pursed her lips in thought and then offered it to him heavy hearted. "And you can have my cotton candy."

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

14 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

"I don't mean to be rude," Byron said, looking at the unfamiliar individuals, "but... who exactly are you?"

Althea frowned when he asked who she was again, but figured that maybe he hadn't heard her earlier introduction. Or maybe he wanted to know more, although without introducing himself first it felt a little rude to ask about personal details. Still she watched the guild leader out of the corner of her eyes. She had appeared to know him and she wasn't taking a chance that he was a close friend. He had watched them all before asking his question, so maybe they weren't that close and he was only an associate of her. The guild leader's reply hopefully would help with that.

She made sure she could see all three of them, trusted Brashen to keep his eyes on the Van moving away from their position. He would warn them in time if there was some kind of danger.

"My name is Althea Tenira." She repeated her name and considered what to add. Leave her family away, better not to risk anything, so something general about work would do and to tell them that she was a local wouldn't hurt as well. "I research Invesiture, live here in Alleycity." A little short, but she wasn't too keen on giving personal details away. Back to the current situation instead, that was a little more harmless. Eiran hadn't told them his name, so she decided against spilling that one. It was his decision what he wanted to tell a stranger and she wouldn't take it away from him.

"We noticed something was off about the Van and decided to take a closer look, lest it posed a danger to those celebrating here. I wasn't able to read the licence plate, but it's walls are definitely reinforged." She didn't mention the conversation Brashen had heard, or anything about Eiran's suspicions. "Paranoid." Brashed whispered in her ear again and she gave a mental shrug. Trust had to be earned. It was as easy as that.

"And to hand the questions back, who are you?"

[mathiau]

5 hours ago, Archer said:

Kingston glanced conspiratorially over his shoulder, then shuffled in close and whispered to NullBlade. “I won’t answer your questions because I have a much cleaner way of dissolving this tension between us. Look at my ribs -but for the Survivor’s sake, be subtle man, I don’t want anyone else to see!” The Smedry pulled open his bomber jacket to reveal a gaping illusionary stab wound, jagged and burnt around the edges, complete with fake blood pouring out thanks to the ketchup he’d smeared there earlier. It was gruesome. As he did, he used his free hand to attempt to pick NullBlade’s pocket, drawing on his years of training from his ex-team of librarian special operatives to try to slip away some sort of identification or TUBA-issued access card.

 

(Author’s note: If he doesn’t carry a wallet or ID card, that’s fine, Kingston will just slip his hand out and carry on.)

“I haven’t seen many stab wounds in my time,” Kingston continued, stepping back, “but I reckon this will be enough to fool a couple people.” He suddenly jerked his body backwards, bending at the waist, gaping up at NullBlade in feigned shock. The movement caught the attention of a passing couple. The man grabbed his fiancé’s arm as Kingston showed them the wound.

“My word, sir, are you alright?”

Kingston locked eyes with him, speaking slowly, carefully stressing each word. “NullBlade stabbed me.”

“Good grief! NullBlade stabbed you! Someone should really get a constable. Hello! Has anyone seen a constable?”

Behind his double pair of lenses, Kingston’s dark eyes looked back to NullBlade, cold and calculating. He began stepping backwards into the throng of festival goers around them, a growing number of which who had stopped dancing in response to the minor commotion.

(Sorry to do this to you, Mathiau. This is going to be awkward when they meet in the next thread.)

"Where are those constables, dear? And who the bloody blazes is NullBlade?"

Quote

Excuse me but how did Kingston get close enough to NullBlade to pick his pocket? He currently has his shardblade out and won't want him to get any closer before he gives him answer. I'll still assume he manage do do the "I was stabbed" plan, at worst it will need a bigger lie.

Also, I'm perfectly fine with you rising the crowd against NullBlade, that's definitely what your character's should do in that situation Although that still means NullBlade have put Kingston in the "very suspicious and probably dangerous mind control user" category, which is just under the "kill on sight" category.

Going for the "he stabbed me" gambit? On a shardbade user? There was no way it would.. No, it was working. Yep, he definitely had some kind of persuasion power, and it probably had either a small number of targets, a close range or a cautious user.

NullBlade walked toward an small alley, when people tried to block his path he just pointed toward his shardblade and they dispersed, once he was in a part with less people, he started running toward his quarter, in the TUBA building.

 

[The_Archivist]

The thing with the van seemed to be calming down, but when John looked towards NullBlade and the Smedry, they seemed to be gone. That was a shame, he wanted to ask Kingston some questions about his Talent.

It seemed like the only interesting developments would be violent ones, so he decided it was time to head back to his rooms and rest. He'd gotten less than ten hours of sleep the last week, and it was catching up to him now that the effects of his last cup of coffee were wearing off.

He headed off into the street that led to TUBA HQ, determined to finaly get some sleep.

[Ashbringer]

"Does it matter?" the spectacled man replied. Byron's healed spirit deflated a bit. Just like always. Nobody cares about a stranger. Nobody cares about me.

Then Byron noticed some... divide in the man's stance. It was more of an impulse than a reasoning, but the man seemed confused. Just standing there, a cryptic question on his lips, staring off into space. Or maybe he has his own problems right now.

The white-haired lady hesitantly introduced herself as Althea - or maybe re-introduced, although she'd been talking to Aln before. She'd been looking at the van before it hit his bubble. Then she asked, "And to hand the questions back, who are you?"

"I'm Ben," Byron responded, his instinctive response. "I just got to the city from some Alley from Roshar, but I was born on Scadrial." He looked up at his bubble's distinctive sheen. "Although I guess that's obvious. I have no real idea what's going on. I got here, I met Aln, and then too many things happened at once, and I..."

He was rambling, but he needed to vent a little.

"I panicked. I ran, and then the van hit, and... and you saw what happened."

Quote

Byron is, biologically, just 16, so he's used to being treated like a kid or acting like one. That doesn't mean he likes it, but he gets it.

 

[Archer]

6 hours ago, mathiau said:

Going for the "he stabbed me" gambit? On a shardbade user? There was no way it would.. No, it was working. Yep, he definitely had some kind of persuasion power, and it probably had either a small number of targets, a close range or a cautious user. NullBlade walked toward an small alley, when people tried to block his path he just pointed toward his shardblade and they dispersed, once he was in a part with less people, he started running toward his quarter, in the TUBA building.

Quote

That's fair. Scratch the pick-pocketing, I'd envisioned them being much closer together, making it possible to do while NB was surprised by the wound. 

Kingston disappeared into the crowd, moving as quickly as he could without running. People shot him odd looks, but didn't approach. This was still the Alleycity, minding one's own business was the safest way to go about your day. 

"Excuse me mister, are you the sword man?" A small child got in his way, looking downright adorable in some kind of bird outfit, covered head to toe in orange and yellow feathers.

"That's a nice chicken costume, little guy." Kingston tried to side-step him, but the child pulled a knife. "Now hold on, I was just about to say yes, yes, I am the sword man."

"Sword man dumb. I'm a phoenix! Raaaaawr!" He flapped his costume wings, nearly slashing the Smedry in the process. "Gimmie a sword!"

Kingston briefly considered kicking the knife out of his hands and making a run for it. But there was a small chance that this kid was a kandra with a nasty sense of humour, so he pulled the largest koloss sword he could find from his pouch and held it out, hilt first. "I'll make you a fair trade. Point me to the TUBA headquarters and I'll give you this, the sword of Vin, Mistress of the Mistborn." I'll be safe there. It should be pretty quiet with everyone here at the party. 

"Deal! It's over there, down that street and to the left. Or was it right? I don't remember. Now gimmie!" He ripped the blade away from Kingston, immediately collapsing under its weight. While he was pinned, The Smedry bolted off in the direction he'd indicated. To his satisfaction, he heard the child's mother begin to scold him as he ran into the night. 

"Allister Byron Clayforged, I told you not to play with weapons you can't carry! What happened to that nice little knife your father gave you? When he hears about this..."

[Rushu42]

Aln narrowed her eyes at the bespectacled man. Why had he refused to give his name? And how had he and Ms. Tenira determined that the van contained a prisoner? Perhaps the answer was as innocuous as a desire for privacy and an unusual hunch, but Aln couldn't help wondering if there was something else going on here. 

But then Ben started to talk, and she was forcibly reminded of her first time in the Alleyverse. She had been about the same age as he was, and had just recently been granted her Nightwatcher boon. There were so many people, and she didn't understand how anything worked. She barely even knew how to carry a conversation. It had been her brother, Trent, that had stopped her from panicking. He had found them both jobs, and eventually she began to grow accustomed to the strange new land. But Ben didn't seem to be accompanied by anyone. 

"Ben," she found herself saying, "I'm the leader of the Scholar's Guild, and I've taken it upon myself to explain this place to newcomers. If you want, I could show you around."

Then she looked back at the other two people in the bubble. "If you don't mind, though, I have one more question. How do you know that the van is transporting a prisoner?"

@Sorana @Ashbringer @Silva

Quote

I'm not completely satisfied with this post, so don't be surprised if I edit it later. The substance should stay the same, though.

 

Edited May 22, 2020 by Rushu42
Adding tags

[Silva]

46 minutes ago, Rushu42 said:

Then she looked back at the other two people in the bubble. "If you don't mind, though, I have one more question. How do you know that the van is transporting a prisoner?"

And now someone was suspicious of him. Eiran really needed to find better ways to show his innocence. 

He shrugged at the woman. "I had a feeling and Althea spotted the physical signs of it looking off from an ordinary van."

Yes, there was definitely no way she would buy that vague half-lie, but it was better to be seen as a liar than reveal the truth. The truth was too dangerous and could too easily lead to several unpleasant situations for himself and the world. And she was the head of the Scholar's Guild. If she knew what he contained inside his head, it was possible she'd never let him out of her sight. Which would be unfortunate since he was rather liking the feeling of being on his own.

Eiran paused. Just because he needed to lie on one point, didn't mean he couldn't even try to make himself out to be a half decent person.

"I'm Eiran Sullivan and I do apologize if at any point I have come off as aloof or suspicious," he said earnestly, adjusting his glasses. "It's been a long day."

[Ashbringer]

Quote

Looks like Byron is a popular name...

Wait, Aln was in charge of a guild? Byron didn’t know what to make of that. He’d heard stories of the powers the various guilds held, but so far the Alleyverse was subverting all expectations.

Byron did know one thing, however: he needed help getting through this, and he needed it quickly, before he found something worse than being half-hit by a van.

He clutched the card still within his hand. Cassie could help him, he was sure. And yet, Aln seemed so eager to help... he stood staring into space, half-listening as the spectacled man - Eiran - gave his name following Althea’s lead. Make a decision. Now.

“I’d... I’d be grateful if you’d help show me around,” he finally replied. “I don’t know much about guilds. I’ve always been on my own.”

Almost always.

[+Sorana]

"And here I am, offering exactly the same to Eiran only a couple of minutes ago." Althea relaxed a little when the guild leader did nothing else but offer to show Ben the place. She knew her way around the city, had lived here for nearly as long as she could remember her childhood. Eiran opened up about his name again and she noted that little fact down as well, partially inclined to trust his instincts. He had been right about the Van so maybe he was right about these two as well. She would always keep her eyes open, be prepared and make sure she wasn't walking blindly into a trap, but who knew. There were decent people in this city. You only needed to meet them.

Her eyes moved over to the fire, and she knew her pupils would break the light a little, giving away their crystalline structure. There was still a part within herself that cringed at the thought of showing them off like that, but a larger one had stopped caring a long time ago. She was who she was.

"We considered to start at the Hall of Legends." She added for Aln's sake, but never stopped looking at Byron, another question on her lips. "Or maybe the festival itself would be even better."

He was from Roshar and had arrived here only recently. Maybe he had knews. When she had travelled there with Max, they had spent so much time on the market, and then in the highstorm, that she'd missed to get some actual news. "How is the situation on Roshar?" she asked carefully. "Especially around Iri?"

@Silva

@Ashbringer

@Rushu42

Edited May 23, 2020 by Sorana