The Forgery Breaks

[+ZincAboutIt]

Quote

This is the all-purpose End of Era 5 thread! If you have any ending scenes or lead-up feel free to do it here. Since this is all one thread with possible multiple locations, it is encouraged for you to put your current character and their location at the top of your post, at least for a first post in a scene so people reading back over this have a better idea of what is happening and where. Happy endings, everyone! It's time to let the dark back in. 

 

[+ZincAboutIt]

~Lita; The Chapel of Rain~

“Knowledge." Whisper said. "Has a price. A price I pay happily for those I serve, and that which they have requested of me. But none have requested this but you Lita. This is your own request."

Lita narrowed her eyes at the girl beneath the water, her fingers tightening very gently on Laurelai’s shoulder, protective. A price. The words held an ocean of meaning to Lita, each memory a wave that curled over her head, threatening to drag her under. Whispers in her dreams, words spoken with a sharp, too-wide smile. Lita grit her teeth. She was not about to pay a price if she didn’t have to.

Whisper smiled at Lita even as she began to form thoughts, craft them into an argument that would have worked - should have worked - on the zealous young woman in any other scenario. 

No." Whisper said, cutting Lita’s clever counter at the root. "Her father did not request this of me. And indeed would it be in his best interests? A broken daughter who thinks him a stranger? And I certainly do not think that it is for his sake or his goals that you ask this. No, this question is yours Lita, meant to benefit only yourself. And Laurelai. So. Are you willing to pay the price?"

It was beyond unnerving to have her thoughts known before she spoke them - known and countered before a single syllable left her lips. Lita felt cornered, like an animal, and she bared her teeth at Whisper, all trace of honey gone from her voice leaving only poison.

”Fine,” Lita snarled, the word reverberating over the stone of the grotto. She could feel panic building in her chest, such a hopeless feeling of being outmatched, outwitted, played and played again a dozen times over. The Stranger, the Shade, and now this girl. This place. It would take something from her regardless: Whisper’s price, or Laurelai. Lita decided to take her chances on the outcome that she could possibly live with.

”Fine,” Lita repeated, her voice calmer, closer to its usual timbre, and much, much colder. “Name your price, then tell me what I need to know. But we both know that if you let her die here like this, you will suffer for it. A broken daughter is better than none.”

So calm - how could she be so calm saying those words? Lita stared at Whisper and wondered at herself, wondered how much she’d already given up to be able to speak of her friend’s death as a bargaining piece - even if it was to prevent such an eventuality from happening.

It’s this place, she told herself. It’s the Forgery. Everything is wrong. When it breaks, I’ll be myself again.

But she was already herself again, and broken nonetheless.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

~Whisper; The Chapel of Rain~

She let her smile drop at Lita's icy tone, all too aware of how close the line to danger was just now. Instead, Whisper met Lita's eyes and gave a single respectful nod. It was near identical to the one which she had always given, at least in this life. As her head straightened from the nod she took a single step forwards, shuddering as the effects of the waters left her.

Time sped up, compared to the eternity that she had been able to spend thinking her responses through moments ago the world now seemed almost to be moving faster than normal. A disorienting sensation overtook her, the strange notion that she must be in a cadmium bubble as everything accelerated around her. But rapidly her mind adjusted, filtering information and pulling the patterns out again, confirming that time was moving as it should.

"Simply remember the favour you owe. That is all I ask. I do not intend to call it in myself." Whisper replied, words taking just a fraction longer to weave now, and consuming more Stormlight to do so. "I shall retrieve the ring. That will be more expedient and less noticeable. And I have a number of items to collect from R&D regardless. I shall meet you..."

Almost Whisper suggested meeting again here, but a glance at the collapsed blonde on the cavern floor was enough to confirm that was probably inadvisable. Laurelai was staring fixedly at the waters, her eyes reflecting the glowing droplets with a burning desire. Now that the Chapel had no Seer it was clear enough that she was again considering taking them for herself.

"I would advise against it, Forgotten Daughter." Whisper said, the tumultuous cascade of overlapping sounds that formed her voice softened slightly. "Step in and I do not think that you will be stepping out again."

She held the Forger's eyes for just a moment, her own grays no longer contained the infinite wisdom of the waters. But they did contain experience. Something that Laurelai seemed to recognize as she slowly nodded and began somewhat inelegantly pulling herself back to her feet. One hand still pressed against her head in pain.

"I will meet you at the university." Whisper said, head tilting suddenly and seeming almost confused by her own decision before realizing with a slight smile. "Ah, I imagine that is where he will be. Soon at least. A place of learning. A place for making bonds as well as unmaking them."

Whisper gave a last, lingering look to the waters. Her delicate features did not shift, she kept the same neutral expression as always as she looked to them. Only her eyes gave a hint of remnant desire, an impulse to return. It had been difficult to step free, more difficult than she had expected. The waters did not let go of the prey they had captured so easily, and even with those that Whisper served still needing her, it had been painful to leave. Like ripping her heart from her chest.

But then, if I was asked I would happily do that as well. She thought to herself, turning without a second glance to Alleytravel from the cavern.

~Voidus; Deep in the Alleys~
His every step brought up a small layer of dust from the floor as Voidus approached. It had been many long years since he had stepped in this Alley, only a single other set of footprints marred the otherwise undisturbed dust of decades and centuries. The faint light from the roiling sky of darkness overhead filtered between two towering walls of dark gray stone. Ahead, some distance away there was a slight depression in the floor. Barely noticeable given that the stone underneath the dust was even darker than the walls, but this was a section that contained no dust. Contained no light. Contained nothing.

It was, perhaps, the most important location in the Alleys for Voidus. One where he had never brought another living soul, nor allowed any to learn of its existence. Not until now, at least. Vivica rested still in the garnet he held, looking about with infectious curiosity. But the little bubble of exuberant joy that she gave out could not quite combat the oppressive, somber air of this Alley. Of the hole in the ground that he approached at a stately pace.

Even the rage he felt towards the Stranger was subdued here. Here, he felt like himself. The version of himself he had been before the Forgery. Ancient, tired, and so exhausted by life that he could summon little energy to feel anything strongly enough to matter. It was enough perhaps to have dissuaded him from his current course, to simply leave the Stranger to his experiment alone while Voidus departed for some other world. Some other life.

But not today. Today even through the quieting air of this Alley, a haze that felt almost like an Allomancer soothing the edge off of everything he felt, Voidus was still angry. Angry as he could not remember being except for once.

"I paid this price." Voidus said, glancing into the unreflective darkness that now lay before him. "Not him. None of those who now claim godhood over this world have paid for this power. And that means that it is still..."

The darkness seethed and bubbled in front of him. It drank in the sound of his words, the faint whisps of Stormlight that drifted from his body, the aura of menace he gave off. It drank in everything, until there was nothing left. A void.

"Still mine." Voidus concluded, the green faded from his eyes as they were consumed by darkness once again and then deepened further. Becoming two pits of inescapable nothing that stared out at the world.

[+ZincAboutIt]

~Lita; The Alleys~

"Come on." Lita took Laurelai by the upper arm and steered her gently away from the water. "Let's get out of here."

Laurelai moved slowly, like one in considerable pain - which, judging by the hand pressed to her head, she was. Lita pressed down firmly on the panic that still fluttered frantically in her chest, crushing it beneath the heel of her will. She had things to do, now. Places to be. Her two lives bent and wove around one another, her new - old? - pewter spike aching with each breath. As they moved further down the corridor of the Alley, the pull of the Chapel lessened, and when Lita could finally form a thought without half of her mind listening for the sound of water, she deemed it safe enough to begin to Alleytravel.

She did not remove her hand from Laurelai's arm, nor did she speak to her. There was a nudging surety in the back of her mind that if Lita began to speak now, she would not stop; she would break down, crumble onto the ground, and weep. But there was no time for weeping. No time for weakness. Was there ever a time for weakness? 

The door to her office, her office now, not Mac's office - rusts, that was confusing - came into view sooner than she expected, and she fumbled with the lock, halfway lost in thoughts, until the door eased open soundlessly. Lita pulled Laurelai through the door, then left her leaning against the wall as Lita rounded her desk and pulled open a drawer, running a finger over a set of Allomantic metal vials before stopping on one stamped with the symbol for Pewter. She made a habit of keeping metal in here; sometimes a field agent stopped by and needed a refill. Sometimes she was entertaining a guest and they ran out. It never hurt to be prepared.

She flicked the cork off the vial with a nail and downed the metal, grabbing another two vials of Pewter and three of Tin, stuffing them into her bag and looking around for anything else she might need for... what? A trip to the university?

Likely more than a simple trip. Lita pulled her coat off a hook in the corner and checked to see if her bayonet was still in her little bag. It was, for all that she knew how to use the damned thing. And Laurelai? Lita looked up at her friend, a friend who knew her only as an employer - with a bit besides. She twitched her nose, shelving that memory for another time. It did not particularly bother her, but it was a distraction she didn't need right now. Lita put a small dagger in the bag for Laurelai, just in case. 

"One more trip," Lita said softly, taking Laurelai's arm again and leading her back out of the office, into the Alley beyond. She took a last look at the polished desk, the plush rug by the fire, the well-stocked bar in the corner. Everything I ever wanted. She locked the door, then guided her broken friend through the Alleys until they stepped out into the cool city night. 

The university lay just ahead of them, across a wide street. Lita led them swiftly, ascending the steps to the main building and trying the door, which was still unlocked despite the late hour. A brisk wind whipped between the buildings, tugging some of Lita's hair out of her braid as she opened the wide, heavy door. It carried with it the slight scent of an imminent storm.

@Voidus

[kenod]

A teenage girl walked through the shadows, out of the alleys, heading towards the university as well. She had three fox tails, and a fox-like appearance. She studied the location, anticipation and dread mingling inside of her. Of what would happen next, to the Forgery, and, of her plans afterwards. Perhaps because of the nature of her creation, a need for secrecy, she had never been properly part of Aylitha, cut off and forgotten. And, she intended to keep it that way. She had no interest in dying because her parent didn't like another her walking around.

Noticing Lita she gave a small smile and a nod, though she wasn't certain if the woman had spotted her. She probably had though, as would others likely have. Even in this city, her traits weren't exactly common. Not something that made her feel comfortable, being this visible.

[Voidus]

~Laurelai; The University~

They had travelled in near-silence. It was a concession that Laurelai found herself deeply grateful for. The piercing series of pains in her head removed quite a bit of her ability to be a practical conversationalist. And thoughts of the Chapel continued to intrude on her every few moments, rendering thinking about anything else very difficult.

Storm it we don't care about difficult. A tiny part of her snarled in her mind, yanking her attention from her self-pity back towards her surroundings.

She had arrived, with Lita, at the University. The one where her father worked. Laurelai had been here a number of times, notably when she was first studying out of school, but also to visit her father. For a moment she considered why they were here. Her mind, exhausted, struggled to trace back the reason. Someone had... asked to meet them? But that train of thought led all too quickly back to the gentle falling of rain and the sirens song that still echoed in her head.

"I apologize." Laurelai said, composing her expression. "That was very unbecoming of me."

Her words caused an intensification of her headache, but Laurelai was accustomed to hiding such things. Thankfully some of the pain was fading, the difficulty of resisting the Chapel was easier the further they had traveled. And now the compulsion, while insistent, was able to be pushed to the back of her mind without any further discomfort beyond occasionally increasing her desire for a cold shower.

"It seems that your memories have returned." Laurelai noted matter-of-factly, she gave a small congratulatory smile to Lita with only a trace of her sadness that her own had not. "Congratulations."

~Voidus; The Alleys~

"Almost done." Voidus sighed. "Collect the remainder of what I need from Whisper and then... then it will be time to..."

He trailed off, the updates he was given to Vivica fading away into the gloom of the Alleys as his head tilted. Voidus' eyes widened slightly as he stared, not at his surroundings, not at this Alley. But another, one far distant from here. It was safe enough, as Alleys went, but it was the occupant of this particular Alley who caught Voidus' attention.

"That's what she meant." Voidus said, understanding widening his eyes. "About that part at least."

He had asked Whisper what allies to expect and where, when she had told him that he would have a friend in the Alleys he had taken her literally at her word. Assuming that the Alleys themselves, thankfully, would not betray him. What he had not expected...

"Hello." Voidus said in a quiet, polite voice as he appeared in the Alley. "It has been quite some time Mac."

@ZincAboutIt @MacThorstenson

[Ashbringer]

Cassandra Adama, The Metallurgic Emporium

The door to The Metallurgic Emporium slammed open, as a bronze statue carefully entered. Cassie looked inside; it was dark, as the shop had closed for the time being. She'd been busy, and Poller couldn't keep regular hours very well. She hoped he was asleep. He didn't need to see this.

She closed the door with a bit more care and locked it, then looked at her little shop. Racks of breastplates, swords, and knives were suspended on one wall, solid metal bars on another. A few rotating displays in the center of common metalmind shapes and Allomantic powders. A desk, an exceedingly comfortable chair, and a set of doors; to her storage, her smithy, and one to the private rooms upstairs. It had taken a while for Cassie to build this up. Much longer than it had taken for it to get ripped away.

Was this acceptance, then? Facing the reality that she had no idea whether she would survive the next night - no, two nights? She didn't know why she'd settled on that date. Something she'd felt from the decay in the realm of minds around her. But a day - one last day - that could do her some good. Something that wasn't devoted solely to the Project, something that was just her.

Cassandra Adama walked slowly over to the racks of armor, taking a look at one of the silvery suits. She definitely wasn't hiding her condition. Her skin seemed the same color as the metal of the Soulcaster, and in places it was indistinguishable from a smiths work. At least it was a good smith, she thought. It wouldn't look too bad for a funeral, if they could find enough people to move a casket. Although... she hesitated, then tapped a bit of flesh on her nose, completing that part of the transformation. That was better.

What else was there? A small rack of candy at the front desk. Poller had sold them before she hired him, and she'd thought the Braize Bars to be excellent. So she grabbed one before heading upstairs, passing the soft snores from Poller's room and that round table she'd first talked to that Ghostblood. It had been there she'd decided to go to the Trader's Haven, decided she would battle with her Soulcaster and to ruin with the consequences. Well, here were the consequences. Would she have made that same decision? She thought so. She wanted those spikes back. Out of Lord's hands. And she'd gotten what she wanted, hadn't she? 

Not the spikes. Those had been charged, there was no going back from that. But she'd gotten revenge.

Cassie went back up to her own room, and her more private workstation. The beads awaited, but they could await longer. For now, Cassie just began making a cup of tea. Even if everything went perfectly with the project, she was pretty sure she'd never get the chance to eat normally again. Metal had a poor taste, and the Ghostblood's plans were more focused on ensuring movement and eyesight stayed than ensuring she could properly appreciate a bitter tea.

Indeed, the tea wasn't great. The Braize Bar was also less flavorful than she remembered. She'd have to find a way to map tastebuds onto her tongue. But it was something that tasted better than sorrow.

Cassandra Adama turned to her other project - the few crumpled sheets of paper she hadn't turned to flakes of iron, the starts and ends of a true will. Most things in there were pretty simple - most of the business would go to Poller with a few standing invitations to others she had met throughout the years, a package of more personal items back to her family, and other pieces she'd had time to cast for a few others. She added a bit of an explanation as to what she was attempting. Nothing too revealing, but the general concepts were there. 

She'd get to the last step eventually. But for now, she could just sit and drink some tea.

[MacThorstenson]

Mac, The Alleys.

"It has been quite some time Mac."

Mac spun around, gripping a rusted spike in his hand, ready to stab whoever this visitor was. His ragged suit dragged along the back wall of the alley as he shuffled backwards, putting space in between him and his assailant. In his 1300 years of wandering the alleys he had barely seen another soul, much less one who knew his name, and for the first time in some while Mac felt a trickle of fear.

A shuddering breath escaped his mouth as he asked the person “Who are you? How do you know my name?” He took his empty hand and used it to brush greasy unkept bangs out of his eyes, as he peered closer at the man in front of him. His polite tone and quiet words were all meant to put him at ease, but the trickle of fear grew to a flood as Mac saw his pitch black eyes. He had felt this fear once before, in the ruined center of a city long forgotten.

He didn't know who this was, or why h- it was here, but he remember that if this thing wanted him dead, he would have no choice but to oblige. 

@Voidus

Edited October 31, 2022 by MacThorstenson

[Voidus]

~Voidus; The Alleys~

Voidus looked at the disheveled remnants of the man in front of him, taking in the tattered suit, the unkempt appearance, unwashed hair. It was a far sight from the man he had once relied on to help combat his own reflection, Sudiov, when he had first appeared. The fearful wariness and the lack of any recognition stung, though that sting quickly fed further into his anger. Just one more problem he could chalk up to the Forgery.

"I." Voidus began, still speaking slowly but with an edge of danger now. "Am the one who made this place. With some assistance from a number of others. And I am the one who dwelt here before. I am the destroyer of worlds, first Lurker, the Lonely God, the head of the Dark Alleys. I am Voidus."

Uttering the name aloud felt strange, a re-embracing of a name that he had once taken because it was the only one he could recall. But the name Lucien felt no less strange either, a name he had not used in so long he had forgotten it existed. A name for a different man, one who had died. Voidus was not that man any longer. And Mac, Mac was not this man.

"And I once called you a friend Mac." Voidus continued somberly, the dark voids of his eyes holding onto Mac's. "I have precious few of those. And one who perhaps never really was. But I should like to gain one back again, if possible. And that means that you will need to remember. To remember who you really are, and what this place is. Have you never wondered why you were here? Why you could see this when others cannot? Are you curious Mac? Do you want to know?"

It had been many, many years since Voidus had recruited someone to the DA for himself. But they were words he had spoken a countless number of times in years past. Never quite the same, each denizen was different after all, and wanted different things. But one thing was always constant. They were all curious. They all wanted to know the secrets of the world. And they were all willing to pay the price for those secrets.

"Let me show you." Voidus said, extending a hand to Mac. "Let me welcome you to the Dark Alleys once again."

@MacThorstenson

[MacThorstenson]

Mac stared at the man in front of him, and Mac thought he saw brief spark of pity appear in his eyes before being swallowed up by the endless void.

"I, am the one who made this place. With some assistance from a number of others. And I am the one who dwelt here before. I am the destroyer of worlds, first Lurker, the Lonely God, the head of the Dark Alleys. I am Voidus."

With each title, Mac remembered scenes and images from long ago. Of dark alleys and labs, corpses littering the ground. Of the terrifying visage of an angry God freed. Of a city growing beneath their feet. Of a mentor, a friend, guiding him through filth to find power and control. Guiding him to the Alleys, the hallowed halls in which he was imprisoned.

“--Do you want to know?” 

The words pierced through fog, hunger and fatigue, bringing a moment of clarity. He had searched for secrets, and he did search for secrets now. This much was the same. He lowered his spike and straightened up. He knew now that Voidus hadn't come to kill him. The adrenaline drained from his blood, and his fear slowly dissipated. 

He walked up to the extended hand, and as he grasped it one memory re-appeared in stark similarity to this one. This memory was of a younger Mac, and a younger Voidus, in a different alley, but the same situation. 

"Yes," He whispered as scenes and images of his past knitted themselves together into a lifetime of memories. And with the past, returned anger. Like an old friend at a reunion, Mac embraced the familiar fury. He used it to stave off the fog that threatened to make him forget, to bury him in an endless labyrinth of Alleyway's always exploring, never discovering.

"Yes, I do want to know. Who did this? And where are they now?" Releasing his old friends hand, he reached out with the alley's, finding thousands of familiar ones close at hand that hadn't been visible mere moments before. "And Voidus? Thank you. Thank you for finding me."

@Voidus

Edited October 31, 2022 by MacThorstenson

[Voidus]

~Voidus; The Alleys~

A hint of the dangerous edge fell away from Voidus' eyes at Mac's words. The ghost of a smile passed across his expression for a moment before becoming altogether more somber at the question that had been asked of him.

"Who did this?" Voidus repeated. "Who else Mac? Who else would know me, know the Alleys, know you, well enough to Forge us into another life and have any hope of succeeding?"

The satisfaction Voidus had felt at the simple act of shaking his friends hand grew cold and stale. The momentary taste of victory turning to ash at the remembered betrayal. The Alleys seemed to creak around them for a moment as his anger, never put aside for long now, was rekindled with a newer bitter edge to it. Turning back into the darkness that he had just emerged from, Voidus' shoulders straightened as he peered ahead. The Alleys fell into place in an instant, forming a new path from their current location to that which he desired. Back to where everything would end.

~Whisper; The Alleys~

She moved through the Alleys cautiously, even moreso than usual. It was far too important that she succeed in her current tasks, she could not afford to die here. Not even if she knew that He might wish her to. Might seek to stop her from giving any more assistance to His enemies than she already had. But it seemed unlikely that He would, she was beneath His notice.

Alleys 489j, 1134, the entire 800's corridor. All safe. A cascade of whispering voices advised her. Step quickly and you will arrive in time, with all that is needed.

Her own voice, or the one she used most often in any case. Instructions that she had left in a Lightweaving, tied to her own ears to give the wisdom of the Chapel after she had forgotten it. The method was not a foolproof one, she knew. More secure were the whispers that would come later, those that would lead her to the correct answers without telling her outright. The idea that the Forgotten daughter had devised and already proved successful. But there was not time to waste on those now, her work was too important.

Her gait was a strange mixture of predator and prey as her large eyes looked to every shadowed corner. She intended to take the path she had been provided, but caution was never a bad idea when performing work this important. And there was no work more important than the work she now performed. Even if her stomach twisted into knots, guilt and hunger clawing at her insides and weakening her limbs. She would not stop. She would do as requested.

She would help them to kill one of her gods. Because the others who she served demanded it be so.

@MacThorstenson

[+ZincAboutIt]

~Lita; The University~

“It seems that your memories have returned. Congratulations."

Lita looked up from her inspection of the main building’s entrance hall, her mind processing Laurelai’s plain, perfunctory tone at a speed that felt both too fast and too slow. They were not alone here; another young woman walked the hall, her three twisting fox tails more than hinting at who - or what - she was. Lita had returned the young woman’s nod, intending to keep an eye on her, when Laurelai spoke.

So… distant. But then, to Laurelai, Lita was not a friend. She was little more than a stranger. Lita tried to ignore the sharp knife-point that twisted in her gut at that thought, a pain much deeper than that of the reappeared steel spike. She could not think too hard about that, or she would be useless to Laurelai. Useless to everyone. And a useless knife was never kept.

”Yes,” Lita said quietly, pitching her voice to avoid an echo in this marble hall. “But we shall have yours returned to you soon, as well. This must be terribly disorienting for you…”

She sighed, trying to recall her own bearing with Laurelai before her memories had returned. It was not hard - if anything it was too easy. Lita had offered Laurelai the same face she offered the world: beautiful, charming, competent, and just cruel enough to be good fun. And nothing else.

It sickened her to imagine doing so now, to offer her only friend so little. But too much emotion would only make things worse. So Lita held herself back, biting down on the impulse to throw her arms around the woman and sob into her shoulder with mixed relief and anger. Biting down on her tongue to stem a tide of words she would never dare say to anyone else.

I missed you. I’m so afraid. Please don’t forget me. I just want to go home. 

“Are you alright?”

@Voidus

[Voidus]

~Laurelai; The University~

Laurelai struggled to read Lita's expression. Her own exhaustion coupled with the woman's impeccable poker face rendered the task near to meaningless. While she noted a slight complicated interplay of thoughts that ran beneath the surface, unexpressed, Laurelai knew too little to be able to guess what they might be. Lita was different now than she had been even a few hours ago, and Laurelai had known the previous version only slightly better.

"Getting better." She replied, wearing a polite, if tired, smile. "Very... yes, disorienting is definitely the term."

For a moment she nearly opened up further, telling Lita about the headaches that still hammered away inside her skull. The strange conflicting flashes of memory that still sparked up anytime she thought about the Chapel. The half-remembered words that were all she could recall from Lita's conversation with that strange girl. But she stilled her tongue, taking the moment instead to compose herself, straighten her posture and wipe the traces of pain and confusion from her face.

"So we did know each other?" Laurelai asked instead, her smile slipping to that of an easygoing conversation. "Before? We were... friends."

That thought was perhaps the most disconcerting. That Laurelai had been friends with someone so deeply involved in the DA. But then did the DA even exist in this... other life? Had Laurelai known? Or had Lita kept it from her? Lita was enjoyable enough to talk to but Laurelai was not entirely sure that the leader of spies for a shadowy organisation would make the best of friends. Surely there must have been secrets. Too many secrets. Even more than most people had.

"I am curious what it was like." She said, the pain fading a little faster now as she focused instead on pulling what information she could from her employer. "So much seems different. It must have been nice, for you to be so eager to have it back."

@ZincAboutIt

[mathiau]

NullBlade, The Metallurgic Emporium

NullBlade jolted awake, getting out of yet another nightmare

It was the same nightmare as always: him reliving the last moments of his team, the last moments of his wife

He stopped burning aluminium, hopping the feeling of Perfect embracing him from the past would help him calm down

It didn't come.

Had she missed that moment when watching from the past? Was this moment too far from her death for her to reach? He doubted it.

He started burning again and walked toward the first floor, if he couldn't sleep he might as well go drink something

@Ashbringer

[+ZincAboutIt]

“So we did know each other? Before? We were... friends."

Laurelai’s voice was so careful, so deliberately easy, that Lita almost missed the slight hesitation on that last word. Friends. As though it were a bit unbelievable, to be friends with someone like Lita.

Lita gave Laurelai a small, polite smile and felt a dozen new cracks form around the hidden ruin of her heart.

“Yes, I suppose we were friends,” Lita answered, tone just as easy. “For my part, anyway.”

The little voice in the back of her mind chided her for allowing something like this to affect her so deeply. This wasn’t the Laurelai that Lita had met in the Odd Job Tavern. This was the young woman she’d met at the Festival, the same one who she had treated as an employee, sent on errands, and rather mercilessly seduced. Lita thought on that last point, realizing that perhaps the hesitation on the word “friends” held a second question. Was that all they had been, in the real world?

Lita gave this a moment of thought, replaying their interactions. The added layer of the physical had never come into play between them, though she supposed it could have. Lita had already been far more intimate with Laurelai than she was with anyone else; the woman had known her life, her secrets. Her soul. After that, what did it matter if Laurelai saw more of her body or less? A new way to unwind, to have fun, was always welcome in Lita’s book. But she was also aware that many - if not most - felt differently.

The second part of Laurelai’s question forced a bitter chuckle between Lita’s teeth. It must have been nice. Lita recalled the fear, the chaos, the drive to continuously prove herself. The relentless craving for more, more, always more that had pounded like a second heart in her chest. All of that had been her reality in the true world. Was she glad to have it back?

”Nice? Well, I don’t know about nice, but… It is real,” Lita answered. “I do not like having secrets pulled over me. Even if they are lovely ones. As an expert liar and consummate hypocrite, I happen to be a connoisseur of the truth. A lie is fine if I’m telling it. Rather less so if I am trapped in it.”

Was that even true? Did she want her reality back? It has been such a lovely lie. Such a beautiful cage. Was it really the cage that bothered her? Or the fact that her owner had never come to visit?

”I can tell you about it, if you wish. Our meeting. We got it backwards in this world. Last time you recruited me, as it happens.”

@Voidus

[Voidus]

~Laurelai; The University~

Laurelai's curious blue eyes searched the inscrutable greens of Lita's, probing with all the care of a surgeon. She found Lita's immediate chafing at the very idea of living in a world of lies to be quite curious. Spies did such every day did they not? True there were not many who could magically do so as a Forger could, but they lived the lie all the same. Breathed it in and became one with it until none others could tell the lie from the truth.

Perhaps a quirk. A difference between the mindset of a Forger and a Tineye. She mused. Curious how similar we are in some ways and how different in others, but perhaps I was more like that in the other world.

Her brow shot up towards her hairline when Lita mentioned that Laurelai had been the one to recruit her originally, and offered to tell the story. While Laurelai had made an assumption that Lita had been in the DA in both worlds, she had assumed that she herself was either recently recruited as she was now, or not a part of it at all. The idea of being senior to Lita in that respect was distinctly strange to consider. Perhaps even stranger than the idea that she and Lita had been friends, actual friends rather than an employer and new acolyte.

But it is... strangely comforting to consider. Laurelai realized. Pain is fading. That might just be the distraction but if so it's a welcome one.

"I would love to hear about it." Laurelai replied, her smile a touch more genuine now as she relaxed. "I don't suppose there's any chance it was also prompted by a chance glass of Elariel Estate?"

She gave a lighthearted chuckle at the thought. A simple gesture, hardly pouring her heart open. But it was cathartic all the same. Genuine.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

~Lita; The University~

A smile touched Lita’s lips at the mention of Elariel Estate, along with the powerful yearning for a glass. Or a whole bottle.

”Not quite that fine of a label,” Lita said, recalling the memory. “But a glass of port, nonetheless. I was a bit hard-up at the time, between jobs in the city. There was a tavern on the border of the Rosharan quarter where you could go looking for work; the proprietor kept it well stocked and he knew everyone. I figured he might have an idea of some lord or banker or politician who needed a keen set of eyes and ears in the right place.”

She sniffed a bit as she remembered herself as she was, close to three years ago now. Or perhaps only two? Did this time in the Forgery count? 

“Damn dull work that was. I mostly tailed unfaithful spouses or listened in on business meetings. Gods, most people are so impossibly easy to predict. Hardly needed a Tineye to figure out the lion’s share of those mysteries, just a working brain and the capacity to read body language. But of course I took their coin; fine spirits do not buy themselves after all. And just when I thought I might spend the rest of my life doing dull jobs for dull people, who should I meet but you?”

Lita’s smile widened just a bit. It felt good, to remember. Even if Laurelai didn’t.

”One thing remains constant. You were far from dull then, just as you are now. It is nice to know that some things are impossible to change.”

@Voidus

[18th Shard]

Xanas - The Dark Alleys

Xanas held a thin atium spike to his right wrist, carefully finding the right veins and tendons. Tsarik watched from the office’s corner with concern. 

“We have not tested this metal enough, Xanas. You are being reckless. We should run more tests before you try this.”

Xanas slid the metal into the bindpoint on his wrist. “I have to know, Tsarik. None of our tests can identify this material. Spectroscopy, dilution, Forgery. Nothing. There is no safe solution anymore.”

“Then let someone else burn it."

“I can’t. It’s connected to what’s been going on for the past few months. The blackouts, the letter - this Blade is wrapped up in it somehow. Someone is messing with me, and I can’t allow that. I have to face this myself. There’s no one else qualified.” He grabbed a vial from the table, swallowing its contents. Water and thin gray shavings poured down his throat. The filings from the mysterious Blade were mostly tanavastium and koravellium. He should be able to burn it with a Mistborn’s abilities. And there was aluminum shavings as well, in case he needed to stop the experiment in a hurry. He felt the metal deposit bloom into awareness as it reached his stomach, an unfamiliar one, and he burned it.

For a moment, it seemed nothing happened. Disappointing, but not unexpected. Most alloys of god metals were poor conductors of any Investiture. Then, something flooded into him. A mix of powers, new and odd, but also familiar. Like deja vu, or a face that was similar to someone you’d only met once. Light and darkness. The powers strained at him, begging to be released – the one to destroy, the other to twist reality and minds. This power – it was greater than Xanas had experienced before. There was ecstasy and adrenaline and pain, all together, all at once. For a moment, he felt as if he had Ascended as some Shard, shouldering the burden of Adonalsium’s corpse. Then the powers collided. This was nothing like Xanas’s accounts of Harmony’s ascension. These powers weren’t two parts of some great whole – they were two powers separate from the beginning, opposite. There was some similarity to the account in the Words of Founding though: as they collided within him, his body dissolved into mist.

Xanas walked about the Cognitive. He knelt and grasped at the pools of blood at the ground, finding a single soul. The clock in his office. Based on past experiments, he should have at least half an hour before the Beyond started pulling on his soul. He was Invested enough for that at least. Somewhere in the Alleys would be a perpendicularity, something to anchor him long enough to spike himself into a new body. As Xanas looked around, he could see threads. Nearly invisible, they stretched in every direction, tangled. One particularly clear thread was bound to him, and Xanas followed it, willing Alleys to bring him to its end. As he stepped from the Alleys, he found himself in a white room. The hospital. And sitting, nearly catatonic, was… himself. A Lifeless version of himself. Xanas reached out to touch him, and the dark power that had dissolved his body leapt from his other self’s body at his touch. Like waking from a dream, Xanas saw the lies he’d been fed. A Forgery, binding him, a figurehead to hide the Alleys behind, while the true gods laughed. His other self, body wrapped in those lies, his soul wrapped in darkness, and in between, a frayed mind, struggling to keep cohesion. Another me. Couldn’t hurt to have a backup plan. Xanas felt at the soul of his other self, pushing memories at him, pulling memories into himself. Their combined knowledge could prove useful.

That task completed, Xanas felt around the Alleys for some locus of power, something he could use to preserve his soul a bit longer. He held the soul of the clock up. He’d wasted more time here than he’d thought. He stepped into the Alleys, and felt the Beyond begin to tug at him, like a fishhook stuck in his gut. But there was another pull, faint, pulling on him faintly, a siren song. He moved towards it, leaving wisps of himself behind in his hurry. The Alleyways opened up to a small cavern, filled with placid azure water, a steady stream of drops falling from the ceiling above. Light from the omnipresent sun of the Cognitive streamed through the droplets, refracting like tiny stained glass panels. The song was louder now. Enter. Learn. Xanas knelt and touched the pool. Hopefully, like the Survivor, the pool would give him enough Investiture to work with, to get back to the Physical. Except, the gentle water did nothing. But that song! Hunger awoke within him. The things he needed were in that waterfall. He stepped into the pool, barely disturbing its surface. The Beyond pulled on him, but Xanas barely noticed. The pool would fix that. He could know what he needed. He could fix this. He needed the waters. He stepped beneath the rain, and his mind expanded. The wealth of knowledge was intoxicating, like Stormlight and pewter and Breath, mixed and multiplied and exponentiated. 

Two old coworkers in a dark Alleyway. Two new ones at a university. An old shell, waking with new determination and new memories. Shades flickering in hidden realms. A whisper in the dark, hungering for the very waters Xanas stood under. Xanas frowned. Others had touched the waters, but now they were his. He’d have to figure out how to keep them. Only a minute till the Beyond claims me. Xanas searched for Investiture. He had to keep the waters pure from another’s touch. Nothing nearby. The waters only grant knowledge, not the power I need. Maybe he could leave… No, I can’t risk leaving the waters. Someone else might claim them while I’m gone. A deeper, truer voice whispered in his mind, And I can’t leave. I don't want to. I don’t have the will. Maybe he could get Tsarik to bring him power. But the waters are mine! He would take them from me! The drops began to tear through him, falling through his ghostly form. Otherworldly winds began to tear at him, pulling him, ripping him towards a distant vanishing point. Xanas scrambled to hold himself under the water, futilely. The knowledge contained here was all he’d ever needed. Just a few moments longer, and he could find a way to survive, to keep the waters to himself. The pull of the Beyond grew and grew. In a moment, he was gone. For the second time in millenia, Xanas Khaeverin died. The soul of a clock fell into the empty waters, dissolving back to its Physical location.
 

[Voidus]

~Laurelai; The University~

Laurelai flushed lightly with pride, it was a compliment she was all too happy to take. And one that she was glad applied to her other self as well. There were a number of things Laurelai would be content to change about her life, but not her mind. That edge had carried her through life, allowing her to excel at her studies, and her career. Given her the ability to impress those around her.

"Glad that I could be entertaining for you in that life as well." She said with an easy smile. "Though being entertaining is certainly a lot easier if one has a glass of port to hand."

The pain from her head had subsided greatly now, which did assist Laurelai with concentrating. But it also made her dearly wish that she had a glass now. Preferably another Elariel Estate but she'd take almost anything. Well, except a Callingfale at least.

"You really spent time as a... a private investigator? It does sound rather dull." Laurelai said, trying to imagine the idea. "It's a difficult thing to imagine. You seem so... obviously more than that."

She couldn't point to a single specific thing that gave her this impression, though certainly some of Lita's outfits would have been very unusual for a private investigator to be wearing. But it was her demeanour, her charm, her... everything. What had drawn Laurelai to her that night at the festival, beyond simple attraction or social interest. It was difficult for her now to consider Lita skulking about outside of noble manors and listening for signs of a Lord or Lady's indiscretions.

~Whisper; The University~

Her gentle steps made little sound as she slipped quickly into the long stone corridor. The advice softly spoken into Whisper's ear had allowed her to slip in and out of the Alleys unnoticed by any. It was with an almost unnerving ease that she had managed to requisition all that she had needed from R&D. A number of infused gems, tucked away into her pockets, several spikes a few of which even Whisper wasn't sure the purpose of, vials of metal, and a pain band of copper.

The ring she held in front of her as she stepped silently from the corridor and into an elaborate marble hall. Difficult to find, even with the words to guide her, the ring had taken her the longest of all to track down. Misfiled and in a tray that would the very next day have been melted down and reforged into something new, it was fortunate indeed that Lita had requested it now. Though of course, who knew what would still exist in this world tomorrow? Reality already creaked and shifted, ready to shuck the husk of this world for its true form. Even the Alleys had begun to groan under the weight of the coming change and chaos.

"I have returned." She said, the echoes of the hall only adding to the intermingled whispers that formed her voice. "I apologize for the delay."

It was difficult to convey sincerity when she spoke in her usual manner, but she did her best. She had no wish to antagonize Lita any further, and was indeed not entirely certain what had prompted her to do so in the first place, though she could only imagine it was something seen in the waters of the Chapel. But Whisper gave a small respectful nod as she approached before finally stopping a few feet away from the pair. The distance chosen partially out of respect but also due to the differences in their heights. While Whisper had to look up to meet Lita's eyes, Laurelai absolutely towered over her.

"The item that you requested." She said, presenting the copper band to Lita.

@ZincAboutIt

[MacThorstenson]

Mac, The Alleys

"Who did this?" Voidus repeated. "Who else Mac? Who else would know me, know the Alleys, know you, well enough to Forge us into another life and have any hope of succeeding?"

Mac paled at Voidus' question, not only because he knew the answer, but because he didn't realize the damage done. In his naivety he had thought that he alone had been trapped, but it seemed that the plot extended far further then that. The Stranger had managed to not only trap him, but Voidus as well. Mac couldn't even begin to understand how one would do that, with a forgery much less!

Deeper down, as well, there was the sting of betrayal and pool of sadness. He didn't know why the Stranger had done this, but Mac had looked up to him. He was the best of them, the most creative, the most ingenious. And now he had to be put down like a rabid dog. He hoped for the Strangers sake that he was possessed by some madness, by some insanity that meant death would be a sweet release. But if he wasn't, if this was done intentionally, then clearly the man he had looked up to was not all he seemed. 

As Mac began to follow Voidus down the path, his shock turned to resolve and he begun preparations. Summoning vials of blood that contained spikes of power, he quickly and expertly began inserting them into his body, ignoring, for the first time, the damage and stains it would place on his suit. There wasn't much worth saving there anyway. Before long, he began to feel the madness that accompanied the spikes creep up on the back of his mind. It was certainly a rare occurrence that he would indulge enough to start to feel their effects, but today was a day of vengeance. And he would need all the help he could get.

"I don't know much about what our friend is capable of, but if you are able to fight him, I should be able to prevent the conflict from destroying everything."

@Voidus

[18th Shard]

Sanax - Einladung Hospital

The Void reached out, touching something Sanax couldn’t see. Memories snapped into Sanax’s - into Xanas’s mind. For the first time in months, Xanas could think clearly. He could see gossamer webs of the Forgery one of the Denizens had laid. Voidus or the Stranger for sure. No one else had power on this scale, nor the subtlety. No one else could have rewritten the Alleys, rewritten Xanas himself! Xanas’s new memories - the ones his other self had given him - struggled for dominance, but Xanas had faced the Void itself. He had will to spare. He stood, dusting his robe off. The Alleys his other self had known was much like the Alleys Xanas had known just before entering the Void. Rather than truth and science, they hungered for power, control. The Forgery was only a cosmic example of the same principle - the Alleys were seeking answers rather than questions, stability over exploration. That wasn’t why he’d joined the Alleys in the first place. He’d simply wanted to push the boundaries of knowledge. He’d wanted to find the truths of reality. This world had simply been a doctoral thesis by his coworkers on the subject, not the goal of itself, and the people of this world deserved the truth. He stepped out of his room to find the hallway crowded with doctors and patients. Some had collapsed with headaches. A few appeared to be oscillating between their Forged and un-Forged states, bodies collapsing under the stress. Everyone else was frantically trying to help cure the sudden invisible ailment. The stony faces of agonyspren, the black crosses of anxietyspren, and the purple worms of fearspren hovered in the air and on the ground everywhere. No one paid Xanas any mind as he quietly slipped out of the building onto the main street. He walked for a short bit until he ended in front of a small office building. The Alleyverse Post. The most recent edition of the paper seemed to have been about the Forgery, albeit with somewhat limited information. Still, the research had been well done and the paper well written. Perhaps Xanas could find the people who cared about the truth here. He stepped inside. 

"Hello. I'm Xanas, formerly of the Dark Alleys. I'd like to help."

@Rushu42

 

Edited October 31, 2022 by 18th Shard
autocorrect is wrong

[Rushu42]

~Various NPCs, the Alleycity~

It was a clear, cloudless, windy morning, just the kind that Sevar liked. He found himself whistling as he walked to work, mind running happily through the inventory of his flourishing bakery. It was going to be a good day, he told himself. And he believed it, until he heard someone scream. 

There was a crowd gathered on the street corner ahead. He thought there was a newspaper kiosk there - yes, look, people were holding copies of the Alleyverse Post. He could see the man who'd screamed, now - he was sitting on the ground, eyes wide, feeling desperately at his chest. Sevar pushed his way into the crowd. "What's going on? Is there something in the news?" 

Instead of answering, the lady next to him just handed him a newspaper. He dug in his pocket for a coin to pay her back, but she shook her head. "They're free today." Her voice was strangely hollow, and Sevar felt a dreadful anticipation building in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to look at what the woman had given him, and yet he felt, somehow, that he needed to. 

The first page was almost blank. The only text was printed, plainly, in the very center of the page. The information in this newspaper is true, but it is also dangerous. This is not a prank or a hoax, no matter how incredible it may seem. Do not read on unless you are prepared for your life to change.

Sevar opened the newspaper, and felt the world fall out from beneath him.

***

Torenat knew that he should be worried about Aln. He hadn't seen his sister in weeks, not since that night at the festival, not since her guild had been attacked, not since the hospital exploded. Why wasn't he out searching the streets, or calling everyone he knew? How could he sit in his home while his sister was missing or dead?

And yet... something about this felt right. Normal. Aln was off someplace dangerous, and he was at home, messing with his fabrials. He had a strange sensation that he had been living in a dream. The city that he knew so well had taken on a fantastical quality in his mind, until he could hardly imagine how he fit into it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Roshar, familiar scenes interspersed with unsettling daydreams of backwards storms and a towering city of stone. Unless the Alleycity was the daydream, and those the reality...

He didn't know. The one certainty that he could cling to, like a leaden anchor in his stomach, was that either way, he was a coward. 

~Aln, the remnants of the Scholar's Guild~

Aln stood in front of the wreckage of what had once been her home. Someone, she didn't know who, had put up yellow caution tape, but that hadn't stopped the more enterprising of the city from making off with a decent portion of her belongings. The structure itself didn't seem in danger of collapsing further, though, so she unlocked what was left of the door and let herself inside. 

She hadn't told anyone she was coming here; she'd wanted to be alone. Maybe that was risky, with the DA theoretically still looking for her, but she doubted that she was their top priority at this point. The city was waking up now. You could see it in the faces of the people you passed, even feel it in the air, like the pressure drop right before a storm. The world was returning, slowly but violently, to reality.

Pel, she said softly in her mind, Do you think we did the right thing?

"What is 'right', Aln?"

Can't you give me a straight answer for once?

In his way, Pel said nothing for a long moment as he thought. "You acted in a way that you believed was moral. You adhered to the oaths that you made. If you are looking for reassurance or absolution of fault, I know of no authority that can provide that. You made a choice, and we shall see the consequences."

Strangely, his words settled something in her, some conflict that had been warring in her mind since her memories first returned. 

"Well," said Aln aloud, "I don't know that this Forgery would have lasted long, even without my interference. The truth has a way of being found out."

And she sat on the broken piece of an armchair in her shredded library, and watched the world change.

Quote

@18th Shard I was nearly finished writing this post when you posted yours, so I decided to leave Aln's part in. If you want to roleplay out the scene where Xanas joins, though, I can say that this scene was a day earlier and write another post responding to yours.

 

[EmulatonStromenkiin]

Demaren Technotic - Technotic's shop

Demaren woke in his room, unsettled. The feeling of events culminating that Cassie had pointed out was growing worryingly strong. Something was happening. He had heard rumors of strange memories coming to people. A burst of pain warped through the stump of his leg, and he collapsed onto his bed. After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided. Weary, he sat up and made his way down to his workshop, to get some work done.

As he was building, he felt something warp. Space bended, and possibility warped. several of his tools vanished, and some of his project reverted to an earlier stage. the door was missing, and the walls had random parts missing. He stared in surprise, then sighed. This was probably some Epic's fault. Or some other being with powers. He should probably check the structural integrity of the shop, if his scanner wasn't one of the things that had vanished.

Quote

this takes place at the moment the forgery breaks for good, and can be discounted otherwise.

 

[Fatebreaker]

~The Realm of the Gods~

The One eyed god had been busy, his work great and terrible.

He spun the threads of Fate with increasing speed and subtlety, preparing to remedy the many mistakes he had made. Details he had missed, connections he hadn't thought of, imbalances that need not exist. And as he worked, he grinned. He grinned like a man lost in the desert taking his first drink of water, for he had missed the work more than he had known. The Light of Science blazed in his metallic eye as he drank deeply of it's ambrosia. The constraint of hiding his work from Sudiov was both a boon and a bane. He the challenge of it was exciting, thought provoking, but yet he longed to give in with abandon and reshape reality without limits. Never had he held so much power at his disposal, so much raw potential. It was heady, like chrono-compressed whiskey shared with a friend in a lab...

NO. Don't think about what it cost. All great breakthroughs required SACRIFICE. Voidus was happy now, reunited with his daughter, no time lost between them. He had been so worn, so apathetic before all this. The Stranger couldn't understand it. How could someone with as many resources and opportunities as him be tired of it??? They could do anything, nothing was unattainable to those who had mastered the realms of magic and science as they had. What a tragedy, what a loss, to lose one of the greatest minds to ever exist to something as mundane as apathy. 

Are you happy now, old friend? Things are fresh and new, you're doing RESEARCH again. Did the gift of a fresh start soothe the time worn wounds that you carried for so long?

He thought about checking on him, but he dismissed the thought. Too many distractions, too much to do. He could check on Voidus after he completed his task. Things would be running smoother then, fewer wrinkles and tears. Less interference from that fool Sudiov, less reliance on Aylitha to uphold their end of the work. Besides, Shade was keeping an eye on things for him. Of anyone, he had the greatest interest in keeping things running smoothly. There was no time to reflect on things lost, on prices paid. After all, the One-eyed god was no stranger to paying prices. 

And so the Stranger worked, taking measurements of reality and annotating the weave of Fate. He grinned with pointed teeth, and the spikes protruding from him ground against one another like the hanging blades in a butcher shop. Soon his preparations would be complete, and he would execute his plan in one clean cut.

...

~The Cognitive Realm~

The Shade had been busy, his work delicate and precise.

Avoiding the eye of two gods was a rare trick. Subverting both of their expectations and undoing their art, even more so. And so he had bent all his guile and cunning, all his skill and art, to do what must be done. Retain the past, unravel the present, protect the future. It was the greatest slight of hand he had ever imagined, directing the attention of so many sharp eyes, knowing what to reveal and what to conceal. He just hoped his hands were fast enough to keep all the parts in play.

The first part was the boy, the young scientist who was so earnest and naïve. This was the most complicated, and yet most simple element. Making sure he spoke to the right people at the right time, making sure things played out they way they were supposed to. He was close, so close, to that grisly precipice, the Shade just had to make sure he gave the right push when the boy was on the absolute edge. He grimaced, for he found himself oddly conflicted. Was it the connection they shared, was it remnants of long lost pain, or did he simply pity the boy for what was about to befall him? But no, shadows had no hearts, only purposes, and his was paramount.

The second was the girls, a scalpel and a bayonet. one to open up a great wound with a delicate cut, the other to finish the job in grisly struggle. This should have been the easiest part, maneuvering two pawns into place, equipping them with what they had needed. But they were no longer just pawns, especially Lita. Lita had ceased being a pawn the moment they had sat in that small room with a blue door so long ago. She had started to become a person, even though she hadn't truly known who he was back then. She had thought he was his Creator, his Original, the True Stranger. And that was what he had been supposed to represent, a message from a dark god. but he had looked at her and felt a kinship that he had never expected. one who had lived their entire life as a tool, as a servant to a will other than their own. The Shade knew that existence, had known it for far, far longer than she. But she had broken free, even in a small way, and escaped. And there he had been, preparing to bind her to another's will once again. Perhaps she could do it again, break the bonds of power and service, of great wills dark fates. Perhaps she could even help him to do the same.

That was when he had first begun to hatch his plan, to let the dangerous drink of a desire to ferment deep, deep in the void where a heart should be. After the Grand Forgery, things had been going smoothly. That is, until the ball. It was intoxicating seeing her there, in the realm of dream, where he was just as real as she was. And she had recognized him to be the Shade, not the One-eyed god. She had seen and known and felt him, let him hold her there in a place that was as real to him as the waking world was to her. It had been nice to dance, he wasn't sure he had ever done so before. It had been nice to hold, and be held. To feel the heat of life, to know the passion of existence. To experience a different side of Lita's Fire. Even now he wanted to be at her side, to guide and protect her and Laurelai, guarding them from the dangers of the Chapel. Lita and Laurelai, that was something that hadn't been expected either, but he supposed it made sense. They had been close, with so much in common, so much they could do together. People, real people, could walk together, could hold one another in loving arms. Lita and Laurelai were people, Shade was only a shadow. A shadow with a purpose. And so he tucked thoughts of blue doors and green eyes away as he rushed on.

The third, and most dangerous part, was the gods. or rather, the arrogant fools who styled themselves as such. Neither the Strange nor Sudiov fully trusted him, but both knew it was in his best interest to keep the Grand Forgery whole. The Stranger would never imagined the Shade was anything other than focused on the work, as he himself had been. Why wouldn't a reflection mimic the one who cast it? But the Stranger did not live to be untold eons old by being foolish and trusting, so the Shade had to make sure his actions were as secretive as possible. Sudiov on the other hand, believed the Shade incapable of altruism, a mindless copy whose only goal was the acquisition of knowledge and power. He despised the Shade as he despised all Denizens, more even, for he was the copy of his great enemy. And so he would assume that the Shade was trying to trick or mislead him, to gain the upper hand in some fashion. Fortunately, with his attention on the Shade, he was less likely to notice the Stranger's work, which could lead to a confrontation that would be disastrous for the entire planet. But if he knew that the Shade was working towards the unravelling of the Forgery, he would try to stop him as well. And so the Shade had to show him just enough, play on the prejudice and suspicions Sudiov held so tightly. It was a razor edge, but the Shade and been forged out of razors, razors and shadows. If anyone, no, anything could do this, it was him. It. 

I feel tired. The thought was unbidden, unexpected. He was a shade, a shadow with a purpose. He didn't truly feel tired, he didn't truly feel anything. He just had to keep things moving, slight of hand and fleet of foot. You have no bones to rest, nor heart to grieve. Self pity is a luxury for the living, you fickle reflection of a mad man. Stay focused on the work, for that is one thing you know how to do.

And so on he went, grinning a grin that was emptier than a corpses eyes.

...

~Alley City~

Reshilore had been busy, his work fruitless and desperate.

Blood. The secret was in the blood. Reshilore poured over his notes, drawing parallels and annotating the Diagram Vivica had given him. The bloody scrawling was strange, but in a weird way it made sense. He ran tests, and the points of the drawing seemed to correlate with investiture. He was unlocking the secrets but by bit, but he wasn't working fast enough.

Victoria was doing worse, much worse. The twinge of pain she had felt that day at the hospital had become chronic, and bit by bit her body was shutting down. The hospital was unable to pin down the source of the illness, and they had simply given their condolences and said that nothing could be done. But Resh was unwilling to accept that. And so he poured over his work, writing, testing. Pricking his hands, limbs, torso with needles, until almost everything in his workshop was stained red. Lucas had taken a leave of absence from his job at the bakery to help take care of Vic, and they took turns tending to her needs. Lucas made a point of never entering the workshop, if he could help it. Whenever he did, his face took on an ashen pallor, as he watched his friend unravelling before his eyes. This evening, Reshilore was sitting at Victoria's bedside, gently wiping Vic's forehead with a damp cloth

"You need to sleep." Lucas gently reminded him, as Resh rubbed as his red-rimmed eyes. "I slept last night." Resh murmured, wringing out the cloth in a small bowl. "Resh, that was 4 days ago. You're falling apart. If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to take care of Vic. Maybe spend a little less time in the lab and a little more resti…" "You know I can't do that, Lucas." Resh cut him off, "I'm the only one that can help her now. I just need to figure out the method of transferring the metallurgic ability. Then I can find a donor, and Vic can heal herself." Lucas rubbed the bridge of his nose, knowing that nothing he could say would get through to his friend. "That all well and good, Resh, but we have another problem: we're running out of money. You're burning through both your and Vic's savings. Which, if we're being honest, we're never that substantial." Resh simply waved him away, "I'll figure it out, I have to." Lucas stood there in silence for a long minute, knowing his friend wouldn't hear anything he tried to say. So he simply sighed and rose to make dinner preparations, "Then I'll do my best to take care of you, Resh." He gave his friend a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, "Just let me know what you need. if it's within my power, I will give it."

Reshilore swallowed against a hard lump in his throat as he nodded silently, placing his hand on top of his friend's. "Thank you, Luke, for everything. I would have been lost without a friend. A friend like... like you." Lucas gave a sad smile, and left the room. Resh sat there a while longer holding Victoria's hand in his own. At one point she stirred, then opened her eyes. "Resh?"

Reshilore leaned forward immediately, "Yes Vic, I'm here, I'm with you. How are you feeling?" Victoria gave a coughing chuckle, "Well, my forehead's kinda soggy." Resh laughed half heartedly at the joke, not letting go of her hand. Victoria rolled her eyes, "That was a joke, you know." Reshilore gave a sad smile, wishing with all his heart he could take her place. "I'm stuck, Vic. The research was moving forward, but I can't figure it out fast enough to help you, and we're running out of materials. I don't know what to do." Victoria gave him a bleary-eyed smile and squeezed his hand, "You're the smartest man I've ever met, Resh, if anyone can crack this thing, it's you." As her hand tightened on his, she unknowingly put pressure on a recent spike wound, and Reshilore sucked in a sharp breath. Victoria heard it and looked down at his hands. "Rusts, what have you done to your hands, Resh? No cure is worth sacrificing yourself over. I'd rather pass held by the one I love than live knowing you died to save me." Reshilore looked at her with a mixture of guilt and resolve, "I won't die Vic, but all great breakthroughs of Science come at a cost. They all require..."

"sacrifice."

...

Some time later, Victoria had fallen back into a feverish sleep. Resh watched her for a moment longer, then gently placed her hand to rest atop her stomach. He stood to leave, but as he did, a something fell out of his pocket. It was a card, embossed with gold. On the front of it was a name and an address. Lita LaPetit. On the back was a handwritten message in elegant script: In case you change your mind. Reshilore stared at the card for a long time. It shouldn't have been in his pocket, he'd not thought about it since that day in the hospital, when Vivica had said he should pay the woman a visit. Vivica has gotten me this far, perhaps she led me to the second breakthrough I needed. Around his, shadows seemed to writhe subtlety bending away from him, but he was too intent upon the card to notice. This was crazy, she had no reason to even remember him, let alone help him. But he felt somewhere deep within that this was something he needed to do. He tucked the card in his breast pocket and walked towards the door. upon reaching it he stopped and looked back at the sleeping form of his beloved. 

For her, no price is too great.

And with that last push of resolve he left the flat and strode towards whatever fate awaited him. 

[mathiau]

Folorian, The Alleyverse Post

The Forgery unravelling was supposed to bring back memories, in the case of Folorian it seemed he was losing memories.

Realising memories were missing wasn't easy as you also forgot that there once had been a memory there, in this case Folorian could remember things like joking with Aln about an event that had happened to them while on a travel but nothing about the event itself, or making an outpost for the guild in a certain city of Spain in every version of Earth because of something funny with its name as well as the fact he faced that joke on a daily basis but not what the name was.

There were dozens of similar example spread out over the time he'd spent alongside Alanis, over the time she had told him wasn't real.

It wasn't surprising he was losing them, after all they had come from the Forgery. What was more concerning was that they did not seem to be replaced by memories of real world.

He wanted to believe this wasn't an issue, that his part of the Forgery was just unravelling in a different order than Alanis' one and new memories would eventually come, but he couldn't shake of the fear that nothing would come.

 

His sense of vision went from inexistent to a barely perceptible -but existing- blur. He tried to look for something or someone that might be the cause, hoping what was affecting his bane didn't not affect it's other aspect too much. He noticed a man looking like Lifeless had entered the building

The man spoke "Hello. I'm Xanas, formerly of the Dark Alleys. I'd like to help."

Folorian breathed in some Stormlight at the mention of the DA

"Is this about the Forgery?" he answered @18th Shard@Rushu42