People you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley

Voidus · March 15, 2022

Brow isn't quite right. Laurelai thought.

She erased the line and tried to position it again, the well-dressed man she had managed to outline quickly but the woman was taking a little longer. Had the brow arched? Not too strongly but perhaps it was a little raised as well. The ground lurched underneath her as the Alleys shifted again, a little unexpected this time and she stumbled a little mid-stride. But if she could just finish these last few lines...

”Well if I knew you had a death wish, I’d have made you an R&D intern and saved myself the trouble.”

Laurelai blinked, staring blankly at the page for just an instant longer as her hand smoothly sketched the final line, then looked up to meet a pair of angry green eyes. Lita, arms crossed and standing in the middle of the Alley.

What? Laurelai reacted in a sudden moment of panic, wondering what she could have done. Then she paused, eyes drifting down to the sketchbook then up to the Alley floor and walls, and finally the briefest of glances upwards to the mass of writhing darkness. Oh.

"Whoops?" She said, aiming for an apologetic tone. "Forgot where I was for a minute."

Fantastic first impression Laurelai, wandering through an ancient and dangerous series of interdimensional alleyways while sketching. Immediately after you had to leave the hospital due to outside interference.

Why did that chiding voice so often manage to sound like her mother?

"Wanted to sketch the two people I saw earlier while the memory was still fresh." She apologized, tearing the two pages from her book.

She was stuffing the pen back into a pocket when her hand bumped another folded sheet, with a momentary frown she pulled that out too, unfolding it and seeing one of Vivica's drawings. Had she given her one of those? She remembered they'd spoken briefly while Laurelai hid in her room but this drawing...

She lifted a hand to her temple as another sharp pain pierced her temple.

@ZincAboutIt

+ZincAboutIt · March 16, 2022

Forgot where she was?

Well, Laurelai did have a sort of natural grace about her Alleytravel, something that was very rare for a beginner. Lita forced herself to remain silent as Laurelai tore out her sketches. They actually weren't half bad, now that she looked at them. Might even be able to get some kind of lead off of them if she asked the right people --

Laurelai grimaced as if in pain, putting her hand up towards her temple while her other hand clutched another piece of paper.

"What is it?" Lita asked, immediately trying to get a look at the paper and fighting down a very unreasonable level of panic. "Did you stare too long into the Void? Did something touch you? God Beyond is that one of he Eldritch Department's ink blot tests? I told them not to prank my agents, how many times do I have to hammer it home that not every denizen works better after a complete mental breakdown?"

Lita drew in a deep breath - why was she so worried? Sure, Laurelai was promising, and she was certainly better company than about eighty percent of the Department, but it wasn't as though they were friends.

A phantom peal of laughter. Crystal in her hands, the smell of smoke in the air, the taste of port on her tongue.

Lita leaned against the wall of the Alley for a moment, struck by sudden vertigo. Was the Alley doing this to them? She was sure she'd marked it as safe, but they did have a way of changing.

"Rust this," she muttered, taking Laurelai by the upper arm in a firm grip and Alleytravelling back to her office. She released the young woman and walked behind her desk, removing a slender decanter from the bar against the wall. Lita poured herself a glass of amber whiskey - it was too early for port, and she was too irritated - and mixed in a pinch of Tin powder. She looked at Laurelai for a moment, then slid her a glass across the desktop.

"Here, drink that. Then give me your report."

@Voidus

Voidus · March 16, 2022

Struggling to make out Lita's words through the sudden onset of pain, accompanied by what almost felt like an image of some kind, Laurelai was about to lean against one of the walls to steady herself when the ground lurched underfoot again. One of her knees crumpled and she barely managed to keep from tumbling to the floor at the sudden motion. From the looks of it Lita had brought them back to her office.

"Here, drink that. Then give me your report."

Laurelai gratefully took the cup from Lita, swirling the amber liquid before taking a steadying sip. The momentary burn as the whiskey hit her throat brought the room into a sharper focus, and after an initial flare up the pain in her temple began to die down again.

"What the rust was that?" She wondered allowed before giving herself a gentle shake. "Sorry, never mind about that."

She took a seat, smoothing her dress and readjusting herself into a straight-backed posture as she met Lita's eyes, saw a flicker of the same confused panic that she herself felt though it was quickly masked beneath a carefully controlled expression. But it wasn't Laurelai's job to try to comfort Lita, it was her job to report the information that she'd managed to find.

"As expected no issues getting in, I had to see a patient quickly to avoid any suspicions but she may actually be related in some way. Difficult to say but she had similar symptoms to the other files, I thought it might be helpful to briefly interview someone directly in addition to what was in the files and then-" Laurelai's speech faltered for a moment. What had she done when she left Vivica's room. She could remember talking to her, remember being in the records room, but not the time between. "Um, then I entered into records and started pulling them. I had a few minutes to myself, long enough to confirm that this pattern is certainly growing worse. Three times the number of cases this month compared to last, most of them minor but a number of more severe cases."

She continued her report, trying not to break the flow of information but still she internally puzzled over that gap in memory. It wasn't like what she'd experienced other flashes of, not old memories that appeared in flashes. Anterograde not retrograde? But even though it was different to the others it reminded her of something. Not that unsettling familiarity that she couldn't explain, but just a vague mental connection. It felt almost like the blank space that could appear in her memories when she forged herself, when the memories of the stamp didn't match her reality and her brain tried to reassert itself as best it could and so simply blanked out the incongruous memory.

But that's ridiculous, I'm not carrying any of my soulstamps with me and I would have noticed the seal. She thought, dismissing the errant idea.

"These two arrived later, the woman first who's either a thief or a Lightweaver if I had to guess, coat was either copied or stolen from another doctor. Not the best infiltrator I've ever seen, couldn't improvise a lie to save her life. She was looking for similar information and pulled a lot of the same files that I had. The other was less suspicious, might have been nothing and I checked and made sure he wasn't wearing any illusions. I picked up a few of the names he was pulling to be safe though, and I know his tailor so we can probably find a name there. But may have just been someone from legal."

+ZincAboutIt · March 16, 2022

Lita listened to Laurelai’s report, slowly sipping her whiskey and feeling the tension bleed away. The momentary panic, the disorientation, seemed to be a distant memory now. The situation at hand reasserted itself, and Lita turned her attention once again to the two portraits.

She tapped the face of the woman with the back of her pen, then cocked her head. “Interesting. Lightweavers usually have a Zinc tongue when it comes to deception. Could be she had an Illumination spike, but then, she’d almost certainly be working for us. Maybe a Truthwatcher?” Lita shrugged. “I’ll look into our records.”

She had little time for Radiants. Most were terribly stuffy and always hung up on oaths and promises. Lita moved on to the second portrait, the one of the well-dressed man. She tapped her tongue against the back of her teeth and felt herself smirk.

”Ruin but you weren’t wrong about this fellow, were you? If there were more men like this in the city I’d still be doing fieldwork.”

There was something familiar about his face, though Lita couldn’t place it. It niggled at her, and she wrinkled her nose in irritation. “You say you found his tailor? That could be useful. Who is it?”

@Voidus

Edited March 16, 2022 by ZincAboutIt

Voidus · March 17, 2022

Laurelai smiled at Lita's shared appreciation for the well-dressed man, good to know that they had more in common with each other than just an endless hunger for mystery and headaches that wouldn't leave them alone.

And the coin. A quiet voice reminded her.

She almost winced at that, as though she could forget what had interested the two of them in this in the first place.

“You say you found his tailor? That could be useful. Who is it?” Lita asked, breaking her train of thought.

"West and Carson, over past the Bronze market." Laurelai replied. "I haven't been there much myself, other than once when I was seeing a Soother with truly dreadful tastes. He did clean up nicely though. But I know a lot of people who do if we need a way in."

She probably has an army of infiltrators and assassins she could send in. A snide comment arrived in the back of her mind. She doesn't need you to make introductions.

"But my time might be better spent trying a few stamps." Laurelai suggested with a moments hesitation. "It's not exactly something I've tried much before, but theoretically records are relatively cognitively stable, people don't usually think of them as being much other than what they are. And since I was already in that room looking through those files it wouldn't be a tremendous change for me to have stayed there looking through more."

It was the solution she'd thought of while walking to the Alleys, having to leave before retrieving hard details was difficult but this was at least one way that she could potentially turn that into an asset. And there was no way for somebody to track what she'd looked into if she hadn't actually looked into them. She wasn't sure how clear the memories would be on something like this, usually her Soul Stamps were for changing something physical or a set of well-learned abilities, not specific memories like this. And since she didn't already know what was in the files it would be even more difficult. But where was she supposed to experiment if not here?
@ZincAboutIt

+ZincAboutIt · March 17, 2022

Intriguing, Lita thought, listening to Laurelai’s suggestion. She had little experience with Forgery, other than what to look for if it was done imperfectly. Tin could spot a multitude of sins. But this was a level Lita had not considered.

”You’re welcome to attempt it.” Lita stood and set her now-empty glass back onto the bar. “If nothing comes of it, we will try the more direct route of West and Carson. One of the clerks owes me a favor, and I’ve yet to cash it in.”

As she spoke, she opened one of her drawers to check on a set of spanreeds. Perfect. The one on the far left was blinking. She set it on a piece of letter stock and watched it fly across the surface. When complete, Lita picked up the page and frowned at the single sentence.

What? That can’t be right.
She sent a direct Alleycant transmission this time, requesting confirmation of results. The reply was just as short.

Confirming: No results found.
Lita chewed her lip, then sat back down, a vague queasiness twisting in her gut as she reached into her pocket for the Coin. At the same time, something bloomed within her, beautiful and hot and hungry.
She flipped the Coin up into the air and caught it, green eyes fixed on the air before her, and recalled the flushed, good-natured face of the man she’d met on the night of the Festival.

Reshilore. The man who, by all accounts and city records, apparently did not exist.

Lita’s smile was as slender and sharp as a scalpel. Finally, a secret just for her. As they said, if you wanted something done right in this world, you had to do it yourself.

@Voidus

Voidus · March 17, 2022

Laurelai didn't even try to read the message that Lita received, it would doubtless be either obscure or coded, possibly both. And if it were something she could actually make sense of then that would probably be a quick way to sign her own execution. But it did not take a master Forger to read Lita's expression after receiving it. A disquieting sense of unease, followed shortly after by a smile so dangerous that Laurelai would have taken a step back if she weren't already sitting.

"I think approaching the tailor is probably the best to find out his actual identity." Laurelai said, giving enough of a pause for Lita to collect herself. "Other people's identities can get a little muddled and messy in a Forgery, not to mention it would only work if there was a chance he'd have actually told me. But it should be enough that I can try to find more connections in the files themselves. He picked out a few and I managed to get the names of them at least, it would tell us if he were looking for anything suspicious."

Messy was an understatement, there was a reason so few Forgers managed to perfect Soul Stamping or Resealing. A persons history was orders of magnitudes more complex than an objects, and their cognitive self influenced in far more ways. Not just by what they thought of themselves, but what others thought of them and even further to what they thought others thought of them. It was a puzzle that never ended, just descending deeper and deeper into madness. There was no perfect way to forge a person's history, there would always be gaps.

About to speak again she paused, the thought lingering in her mind as though a sign of something important. Laurelai may not be the most impulsive woman in the world but she did trust her instincts on most things. Instincts processed information far faster than the rational mind could, and often made important connections even if it didn't always give the working out for how it arrived at such conclusions. So why did she feel that this was an important thing for her to think about.

She'd thought about it before as well, the headaches, the memory lapses, it felt almost like the snapback from a slight problem with a Forgery. Flashes of things that were familiar but you had no real memory of, missing periods of time, headaches when memory and reality tried to align themselves.

"Possible I suppose." She murmured aloud, her brow furrowed deep in thought and Lita momentarily forgotten. "But why these people, and how could so many be maintained?"

It was impossible, there was no way a Forger could sustain that many Soul Stamps simultaneously and give enough of a connection between the person and the stamps for them to keep even at a distance. Let alone the fact that anyone stamped in that way would notice the stamp itself, smoking on their skin. The only alternative would be if they were tied up in a stamp affecting something even larger, the cognitive pull of that could distort other aspects nearby. So had someone forged the entire hospital somehow? And if so how was Lita connected?

@ZincAboutIt

+ZincAboutIt · March 17, 2022

Lita’s hand was halfway towards her inkwell with the intent of sending a message to West and Carson’s when she noticed the change in Laurelai’s voice.

"Possible I suppose." Th girl murmured aloud, eyes unfocused and far away. "But why these people, and how could so many be maintained?"

Lita felt a chill pass through her, the sensation of a thousand ants skittering over her skin. It set her teeth on edge and twisted deep in her stomach. She forced herself to stay calm, to maintain a cool professionalism. Lita could not afford to look weak, not in front of a new acolyte. Not ever.

The Dark Alley can build on weakness, something whispered, a fragment of a memory. She could almost make out the shape of it, like the tatters of an ancient flag, once so bright.

“But it will devour the weak,” Lita finished, whispering in a voice that only a Tineye could hear. For one fraction of a second, the memory snapped into sharp focus.

A vast room filled with hundreds of people, the excited susurrus of low chatter, and before her a man that was steel and nightmare, god and demon, riveting and ruin. One eye deep and rending, the other bright and pitiless. His hand outstretched, bearing a bright golden Coin.

Lita blinked, her hand moving automatically to her right side just as a wave of dizziness hit her hard enough that she staggered to the side.

“What -“ Lita gasped, holding onto the edge of her desk, looking up at Laurelai as she did so. What is happening to me? “What’s possible?”

@Voidus

Voidus · March 18, 2022

No even the hospital wouldn't be big enough, it's still affecting those who have left. And other people who haven't arrived at the hospital but already show symptoms.

Her eyes were drawn to the motion of Lita stumbling a half-step but her mind barely processed it. Though perhaps in some sympathetic response she felt almost as though something had lurched beneath her at the same moment.

Not to mention the Alleys, they aren't even physically connected to the rest of the city, there's no way any ordinary Forgery could maintain its effects this far out.

She felt almost as though her brain would overheat as she flitted from one idea to the next, creating a list of possibilities and dismissing them almost as quickly. A cold shower would be so helpful right now.

cool water spilling from above, sourceless and eternal, washing away material cares and anything that was not the pool.

Her eyes snapped open from a half-lidded thoughtfulness, wide-eyed she stared at Lita and realised she had been asked a question.

“What’s possible?” The redhead asked.

Anything is possible. The waters whispered. You just need to find us again.

She shook herself at that, she'd been told that she looked like her father when she did so but it always helped clear her thoughts. So why was that memory not fading like the others did?

"A Forgery." She said, trying now to think aloud. "Or something like one. These symptoms, the memories the blank spots, the headaches. Classic signs of the cracks showing in a Soulstamp. But to affect so many people it would need to be enormous, and whoever was doing the Forging would need to be more Invested than a thousand Forgers. Is there something else maybe? Something similar but more powerful?"

Abilities sometimes repeated themselves across the cosmere and the worlds beyond. Lightweaving was found in numerous worlds, each with their own uniqueness to the power. Perhaps the DA would know of something similar to Forgery but vastly more powerful.

@ZincAboutIt @Fatebreaker

Quote

Tagging FB in the event that we need to be worried about shadow monsters appearing about now.

+ZincAboutIt · March 18, 2022

"A Forgery. Or something like one.”

Lita righted herself, frowning as Laurelai spoke. On the far side of the room, a log collapsed within the hearth, throwing sparks. Lita turned, startled.

Sparks in the air, a great blackened forge, the ring of a hammer in the dark -

”These symptoms,” Laurelai continued, “the memories the blank spots, the headaches. Classic signs of the cracks showing in a Soulstamp.”

An icy shiver trickled down Lita’s spine like water.

Water deep beneath the earth. Blue light, pure as crystal glass, reflecting off a still pool.

”But to affect so many people it would need to be enormous, and whoever was doing the Forging would need to be more Invested than a thousand Forgers.”

Lita drew in a single, deep breath. Dimly, she recognized the wild heat of a true Tin flare within her. But when had she turned it on?

A single moment of perfect clarity, a secret so sweet and so terrible she wanted to drown in it, to open her mouth and drink it until it killed her, consumed her.

“Is there something else maybe? Something similar but more powerful?"

Lita turned to look at Laurelai, and she could tell that the green of her eyes was a bare ring around her pupils, wide and bright. “Yes,” she murmured. “There is something similar.”

A voice in the grotto, implacable and imminent as entropy. Shadows tightening about her, a hand on her shoulder.

”A god could do it,” Lita whispered, lifting her own hand as she remembered. She remembered. “A god, or something…”

Fingers trembling, reaching up to touch that hand. Impossibly real.

”…something Stranger.”

@Voidus

MacThorstenson · March 18, 2022

Ronald sprinted away from the hospital, his normally calm façade slowly slipping. He held onto his briefcase and bowler hat as he stumbled toward the nearest alley.

BOOM! Ronald glanced back in a panic, his eyes having the same wild look as a fleeing animal trying to escape its predator. The sound came from near the entrance to the hospital. What was going on? Why is there an earthquake? The doctor lady said their shouldn't be one whats going on oh my void why is this happening why am I here can I get a cookie why were so many people looking for these files who is Allie what is the DASU what are they doing oh voi-

As his panicked mind continued rambling at a break neck pace his body made its way to the nearest alley and ducked inside, running to the back and pressing himself against the wall. He needed to be calm to navigate the alleys he needed to relax he needed to be in control he nee-

A hand rested on his shoulder and a gravely voice, partially in his mind, partially in the real world spoke "Hey kid, you want a coo-"

He needed to run, to flee to hide. Reflexively he let out a little yelp and jumped, metaphorically flinging an alley in front of him. He only noticed in passing the grey clouded sky merging into the dark void of the alleys. He also only noticed in passing the things that were in his alleys. He just ran, keeping his eyes in front of him as the world bent to his fear. The adrenaline pumping in his veins gave him strength, and the alleys responded. Moving quicker and faster then he had ever been able to make them move on his own. Of course nothing comes without a price, and the added strength came at the cost of his control. His Alleymatics were like the frenzied thrashes of a drowning man. They contained a surprising amount of strength, but no direction. This loss of control only served to increase his fear, however, and led him deeper and deeper into the alleys.

Suddenly he tripped and fell, not onto concrete, but something warm and boney. Pushing himself up, the floor grabbed his hands and his legs. He ripped himself free, not understanding what he was seeing. It looked like the whole place was hands? Ronald dry heaved, but grabbed his briefcase and took another step forward, grabbing a random alley to catch himself, but instead found his legs knee deep in paint. Buckets of it. He took a deep, shuddering breath. He needed to calm down. His shoes were ruined and if he wasn't careful the rest of his outfit would be too. That was something he could focus on, not hands, or being lost in the alley's, or mysterious earthquakes that reminded him of fighting gods. His suit. It was there, and he needed to take care of it.

He took another breath. And with his heart pumping he reached out for the alley outside his office. As if offering up different appetizers at a party, the alley's responded with suggestions of the closer, and easier alleys. But he pushed through those, gritting his teeth at the effort. He had been lucky that he was still here. Running through the alleys aimlessly was nearly suicidal. While its true that there was an infinite number of uninhabited, safe alleys, there were also an infinite number of alleys that would kill you immediately. While in theory, it might be easier to route through 2-3 alleys to get to a destination, he wasn't good enough to tell which alleys were safe. He only followed the standard routes, but there was no route that led to where he was. Forcing himself to be calm, he carefully slid the alley in front of him, and took a step forward into the familiar sight of his office building.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way up the elevator, dripping white paint off the left leg and blue off the right. The elevator opened its doors to a receptionists desk and a door labeled Ronald Darsen behind it. He mentioned to the receptionist that he needed the DA cleaning department to take a look at his shoes and pants, then stumbled into his office and locked the door.

What had he gotten himself into?

Voidus · March 21, 2022

Laurelai could hear her pulse, a rapid pulsing which thundered in her ears. But somehow Lita's words seemed to cut through that roaring torrent with ease, the faint whisper clearly audible and the room, maybe even the Alleys themselves seemed to still at the whisper.

”A god could do it,” Lita said, with what felt like arduous slowness. Laurelai was impatient for the next words, but somehow felt like she already knew them. “A god, or something… something Stranger."

The room fell quiet, an all-encompassing silence enveloped them and for a moment Laurelai was worried that her heart itself may have stopped beating. But though that silence should have dominated the space, somehow in this soundless interior it was Lita's words that pressed upon her.

"Something Stranger?" Laurelai said at last, her voice felt small and near ready to break. "You don't mean..."

But she did, Laurelai knew she did, and even knew why she did. She almost felt a hand pushing a warm metallic coin into her grip, but not the cool, comforting hands of her mother. Strong hands, callused and somehow cold beyond anything that temperature differentials could explain. Something stranger indeed, something that she and Lita had both spoken to, right after...

Find us. The waters whispered again. Find your answers.

She saw the gentle rain once again, not surrounding her, but in front of her, just out of reach. And she knew that if only she could reach it once more then she would have everything she ever wanted, that then she could simply lie there beneath the silent dark droplets.

Dark?

Her eyes widened as she looked past the memory, the rain vanished along with the faded memories. But there were other droplets that were not memories at all, dark black fluid that silently dripped from the ceiling onto the floor behind Lita. Fluid that began to coalesce and form a living creature.

Laurelai screamed, leaping to her feet and toppling her chair over in her haste. Her hand felt slow, like it was moving through molasses as she raised to point at the creature now forming, trying to get Lita to see it, to do anything to stop it. And then her voice caught in her throat as she saw a shadow on the table, a shadow cast not by the shadow creature in front of her, but by something behind.

@ZincAboutIt

+ZincAboutIt · March 22, 2022

On 3/20/2022 at 6:59 PM, Voidus said:

"Something Stranger?" Laurelai said at last, her voice felt small and near ready to break. "You don't mean..."

Even with Tin raging like a fire within her, Lita could barely hear Laurelai's words over the pounding of her own heart. Memories bloomed in her mind, bleeding into one another like droplets of ink on wet parchment. Versions of the same event competed for her acknowledgment. Under the onslaught of disparate recollection, the world seemed to warp around her, shadows in the corners of the room trembling and stretching.

Then, one of the shadows on the ceiling detached itself, dropping to the floor behind Laurleai with a heavy, wet sound. It lay quivering on the rug for a moment before it began to surge upwards, building upon itself until it formed a vaguely humanoid shape, too-long arms reaching for Laurelai just as the young woman screamed and pointed - behind Lita.

Lita ducked, one hand reaching for the miniature stiletto she kept in her pocket, the other hand reaching into the fire for a handful of smoldering coals. She grunted at the sudden flare of pain, lowering her Tin and immediately beginning to siphon the heat into her brassminds. Then she turned, flinging the embers as she got her first look at the thing that had appeared behind her.

Her first thought was of the legends of mistwraiths from her youth. It's body was long and sinuous like a snake, rising up from the puddle of black, glistening ooze and swaying slightly. It's skin - if it could even be called skin - looked like wet tar, though the handful of embers Lita had thrown were simply absorbed without a trace.

Hell, Lita thought, her mind too busy watching the thing to donate any energy towards screaming. As the coals hit its body, the creature seemed to lock into place with a sudden, predatory keenness. The blunted end of it boiled and bubbled, one of the bubbles growing and swelling until it formed the shape of a human head. Lita watched in fascinated horror as it opened its slick mouth and unhinged its jaw. More shadow ran out of its mouth, dripping across too many teeth, as it lunged for her.

Lita did scream then, throwing herself backwards and slashing across the tarry hide of the creature with her stiletto. The blade passed through almost too easily, parting the "skin" and causing some of the shadows within to begin eating their way up her arm. The corners of her vision began to darken, and in a panic, Lita plunged her hand back into her pocket, seeking something, anything --

Her fingers closed around the familiar smooth circle of the Coin, and she pulled it free, gripping it in her palm like a talisman. The shadow had coated the entirety of her right arm, an eerily cold and invasive sensation. She could almost feel it pushing its way into her skin as it worked its way towards her neck.

"Help me!" Lita shouted at the Coin, even as it pulsed with a weak heat. The shadow continued to flow upward, pouring into her right ear, covering her right eye. The darkness deepened, smothering her terror, rubbing out the incongruencies in her memories. She dropped to one knee, her left hand still clutching the Coin, fighting the shadow, fighting to cling onto the memories - her memories.

They were her memories... weren't they?

Lita felt her cheek hit the soft surface of her rug as the shadow poured over the rest of her face, running down her throat like black blood, coating every instance of dissonance, stealing her secrets. She would have wept in anger, if the shadow had not already covered her eyes.

You promised me secrets, she thought, whispering the accusation into her hand and sending it into the Coin, even as her mind forgot the reason why. You promised me power.

Liar.

@Fatebreaker

Quote

Tagging you Fate, in case you want the Stranger or the Shade to hear Lita's thoughts via the Coin. Your choice!

Fatebreaker · March 25, 2022

18 hours ago, ZincAboutIt said:

Lita felt her cheek hit the soft surface of her rug as the shadow poured over the rest of her face, running down her throat like black blood, coating every instance of dissonance, stealing her secrets. She would have wept in anger, if the shadow had not already covered her eyes.

You promised me secrets, she thought, whispering the accusation into her hand and sending it into the Coin, even as her mind forgot the reason why. You promised me power.

Liar.

The shadow fed upon Lita's dissonance, like a wildfire on a forest. It's cold touch moved like a slime mold across decaying matter. It's coldness felt so alien, so distant, with none of the heat and vitality a living creature. Inch by inch, it crawled across her body, searching for memories to consume.

And then the Coin pulsed.

A faint ripple of energy ran through the room, seeming to freeze everything in an endless moment. There wasn't a sound, neither breath nor heartbeat could be heard. The two women were frozen, locked in struggle with the shadow creatures that had attacked them. Lita could see nothing, her face completely covered by the monster's dark ichor. An eternity seemed to pass, the entire world holding it's breath. Then she heard a voice:

"I never break my promises."

The voice was soft, yet firm as iron. It was a whisper in a cave you thought was empty, a shadow at the end of a long hallway. A spot between two of her ribs ached, like an old wound remembered. Lita felt the coin grow warmer, as if responding to the voice, even as the ambient temperature dropped suddenly.

"He may have given you that promise, but I gave you that Coin. Do you remember, Little Lita? A small room, with tea in the kettle and a pale blue door? No, you don't really, though the fragments might be there. It was a lifetime ago."

There were no footsteps, but the voice seemed to move around her, circling like a shark.

"You told me you hungered for secrets. You were so hungry, so angry. And so I gave you a spoon to eat the world. A coin, to remind you of the first lesson every denizen of the Alleys knows. There is always..."

"A Price."

The world seemed to tremble at those words, a tremor felt even in that moment of perfect stillness. Suddenly Laurelai could hear the voice, like a whetstone on a blade.

"And you, Forgotten Daughter. You have always had power, but you sought something more, that which you had lost. And now you have it. You made a bargain and gained your hearts desire at the cost of the world, though you did not know it. I think your price has been unjust, but would you have paid it anyway? Could you possibly bring yourself to do anything otherwise?"

It felt as if the forces of gravity had increased tenfold, and yet had lifted entirely, both oppressive and weightless at once. The shadow creature were still moving, ever so slowly. The light was fading, and the room felt cold and damp. Like rain in an alleyway, or a fountain in a cavern.

"You are once again faced with a choice, the two of you. You can have your heart's desires, and let these creatures grant you that blessed ambrosia of peace. Or you can face the darkness from which you're awakening, and claw your way into the bloody realm of truth. You can have your wishes, or you can have what you lost. Are you willing to pursue this path and the secrets that await you? What are you HUNGRY FOR?"

Like the build up of electricity before a lightning strike, power surged through the room. The current of it could be felt to the bone, a raw energy that was filled with the anticipation of a well used guillotine. Both women felt something graze their fingers, cool metal that they could almost grab ahold of. The voice spoke again, growing fainter till it was a whisper from a setting sun.

"You can reach out and seize the truth, or you can let go and let peace overtake you. There is always...

A CHOICE."

@ZincAboutIt @Voidus

+ZincAboutIt · March 25, 2022

"I never break my promises."

In that space between heartbeats, Lita heard a voice. It was a chill on the air, a breath on the back of her neck, cold despite the accompanying warmth in her left hand. Pain pierced her, that familiar phantom wound. She clung to it, grasping for that voice despite - or perhaps because - it terrified her.

"He may have given you that promise, but I gave you that Coin. Do you remember, Little Lita? A small room, with tea in the kettle and a pale blue door? No, you don't really, though the fragments might be there. It was a lifetime ago."

The image faded in and out of focus, a blurred evanotype. A young woman at a table, and a shadow at the door. Little Lita. A name that belonged to someone she knew. The darkness surrounding her made to brush it away.

My name, Lita thought, and that thought was the smallest ember floating through a cavernous void.

She was not alone in that darkness. Beyond her sight, a predator moved in the deepness, its voice like smoke. It twined about her, ephemeral, yet somehow it felt more real than anything in the world.

"You told me you hungered for secrets. You were so hungry, so angry. And so I gave you a spoon to eat the world. A coin, to remind you of the first lesson every denizen of the Alleys knows. There is always..."

"A Price."

The ember caught, and Lita felt the world vibrate like a plucked string, humming a dischordant note. That voice continued, but Lita was caught up in its previous words. The image in her mind sharpened slightly, and the shade resolved itself into the shape of a stranger. A wild tangle of black hair, a white slice of teeth bright against brown skin, and a pair of mismatched eyes. The Steel, and the Void.

Lita felt reality grow heavy and taught, a seesawing feeling that threatened to rip her apart - one force pulling her down, the other lifting her up. The shadows crawled across her skin. She could feel them twitching, reaching out towards her newest dissonant memories like rats swarming over rotted scraps. They were hungry.

"You are once again faced with a choice, the two of you. You can have your heart's desires, and let these creatures grant you that blessed ambrosia of peace."

Her heart's desires. Was this life truly what she wanted? It seemed perfect, a place as Department Head of Counter Intelligence, all the city at her disposal, and no one to answer to. Finally, a place of power that existed apart from someone using her. A chance to be the one holding all the cards. The shadows whispered all this into her ears as they crept across her thoughts, snuffing out the candles of her memories with clammy fingers.

"Or you can face the darkness from which you're awakening, and claw your way into the bloody realm of truth. You can have your wishes, or you can have what you lost."

What I've lost, Lita thought, barely daring to whisper her own thoughts in her head. She huddled there in a corner of her mind, eyes blinded, caught between terror and desire at that voice that paced in the dark. It would be so easy to let go, to drop the Coin and surrender. To awake as though nothing had happened. To live a perfect fiction, a beautiful cage built of everything she'd ever yearned for. It pulled at her like sleep pulls at the drowsy. It was a lullaby, a warm murmur and a soft bed.

But is that what she wanted? Did she want her wishes granted like gifts she'd never earned? Placations in exchange for the theft of something far more precious - her life. Her real life. Her secrets and her sufferings. The blood on her hands and the blood on the cobbles of that alley in the storm, when a dark and pitiless god had killed the girl she was to birth the woman she could become.

Are you satisfied, Little Lita. A whisper like a knife in the dark, a smile like a scythe blade. Or do you crave yet more? The precision of steel sliding between her ribs, pain so intense it may have been ecstasy. Tin and blood and rain on her tongue. The sharp crackle and ozone flare of lightning rending the sky.

"Are you willing to pursue this path and the secrets that await you? What are you HUNGRY FOR?"

Lita could feel it again, that static build as the world held its breath. A deep gasp before the plunge. Something brushed against the fingertips of her right hand, cold metal that beckoned her touch. The voice faded until it was barely a whisper.

"You can reach out and seize the truth, or you can let go and let peace overtake you. There is always... A CHOICE."

As the moment-between-moments ended, Lita flexed her fingers and grasped the metal. Anger flared within her, hot and bright, twinning with the pain in her palm as whatever she held sliced into her skin. She drew the blade over the front of her body, hoping to connect with the shadow and get it off her face. As the blade touched its skin, the creature recoiled, almost seeming to suck inward, wrenching its tendrils back into its center.

Lita retched as the shadow pulled out of her throat, eyes watering when the low firelight of her office hit them. She rolled instinctively away, still coughing, and pushed herself up onto all fours, getting her first good look at the weapon in her hand. It was slender and razor sharp, about as long as her forearm, with a tiny ring handle at the end. It looked almost like a bayonet, and Lita shifted her hand downward, gripping the handle and leaving a smear of blood on the blade.

As she stood, she wiped a trail of bile off the corner of her mouth, and gave the writhing shadow worm a jagged snarl.

"Get the hell out of my office."

@Fatebreaker @Voidus

Edited March 25, 2022 by ZincAboutIt

Voidus · March 26, 2022

Something grabbed her by the waist, darkness woven into limbs and surrounded by chitinous armour. Laurelai screamed as she felt them, then screamed again as they pulled her backwards. She could see nothing of the creature itself, only feel as she was grabbed by innumerable insectoid claws. They restrained her limbs with a thousand tiny pincers, grabbed her torso with a larger pair and then she felt a million tiny claws digging into her skin, every strand of her hair clamped by another limb.

She felt tiny legs crawl across her face reaching down and across until they hit perfectly painted red lips and began to pry them apart.

A freezing pulse of energy ran through her, extending the time she had to feel the horrifying sensations into an eternity which was finally, blissfully broken. Though when she heard the voice it occurred to Laurelai that many would prefer the grasping pull of the insects to this voice, a voice like impending danger, the creak before the sky fell and the world plunged into endless nothing.

"And you, Forgotten Daughter. You have always had power, but you sought something more, that which you had lost. And now you have it. "

Forgotten Daughter? Laurelai thought, no that wasn't right. She knew her parents, even if she'd lost one of them. Neither had ever forgotten her.
So lonely. Why did they leave? Nobody else in the house when they found me. Why did they never come back for me? Nobody even asked if I was okay.

"You made a bargain and gained your hearts desire at the cost of the world, though you did not know it." The Voice continued, seeming to speak to both Laurelai's at the same time.

No. Said Doctor Esserethel. I wanted to see, to know the deep secrets of the world.

I wanted to know the secrets of myself. The Forgotten Daughter countered. I found the heart of the world and only used it to fill in records.

"I think your price has been unjust, but would you have paid it anyway? Could you possibly bring yourself to do anything otherwise?"

Yes. I love my family but the hidden truth that I had is worth so much more.

No, I finally have the answer for The Question, to finally have that answer and know who I am is worth the price.

The light was fading, and the room felt cold and damp. Like a silent gentle rain in a cavern far below that whispered of secrets answered and truth unveiled.

"Are you willing to pursue this path and the secrets that await you? What are you HUNGRY FOR?"

They both stilled, feeling the damp and remembering the silence of falling water. And then something else, a louder pour of rain falling from above, the heavy sleet of an Alleystorm. A quiet Alley waiting to be pierced by the sound of spike meeting flesh. And a question, not meant for her but she had often wondered at her answer.

“Then I offer you a Choice. Would you have Power, or Subtlety?”

Laurelai had often considered what it would be like to have the powers of a Radiant or a Twinborn, to fly through the air or carve flesh apart with your bare hands. But she had never sought to gain a spike for either. The utility and practicality of Forging, the awareness of ones self had been worth any price. But what did this new Laurelai think?

I think that Forgery has uses far beyond healing. She replied. I think that the practice of studying everything and everyone distances us from them, even when we have a family. I think that we consider ourselves separate from other people even as we understand more than almost any others how similar we are to them. I think that we choose Subtlety, and I think that there is one thing mightier than any sword.

Laurelai's hand clutched a smooth metallic surface, comfortably positioned in the fingers of her right hand. With a swift motion she pulled her arm up and stabbed it into the creature behind her, and as she did an image rose to her mind, a maze of twisting patterns constrained by a circle. Such a simple thing to channel rivulets of power and yet so powerful as to rewrite reality itself.

One of her eyes was already covered by shadowy material but the other, even half-lidded, could see Lita slice a section out of the shadowy creature that had grasped her with a metallic flash. Poor creature had certainly gone after the wrong denizen.

Laurelai smiled, the pen in her hand twitched slightly.

The creature behind her reared back as a nearly-identical slash tore across its own torso, its history rewritten so that it had been the one to try grabbing a department head. Laurelai took a moment to review herself, the scratches all over her, the oily material which clung to her skin, the tatters of fabric where claws had torn apart her dress.

"This." Laurelai said, whirling around to stare the creature down imperiously. "Was designer."

A carpet of lavender flowers appeared underfoot and trailed Laurelai as she moved, not entirely suited to the seriousness of the moment, nor entirely intentional but she smiled at them nonetheless even as they tangled her feet.

"I'd forgotten how inconvenient that could get."

@Fatebreaker @ZincAboutIt

+ZincAboutIt · March 26, 2022

Lita felt a singular moment of pure, untainted joy when she saw Laurelai - really saw her this time. Not a promising new acolyte, or an interesting conversationalist. She saw Laurelai. Her colleague. Her friend.

Then, the writhing, glistening shadow before her let out a low, menacing hiss. Lita increased the burn of her Tin, watching for the moment when the thing would strike, gripping her silvery bayonet blade with far more confidence than she would have expected.

No Pewter, she reminded herself, the two dissonant lives in her head warring for focus and blurring distinctions. This is no time to play Ascendant Warrior.

"Laurelai," Lita called, her eyes still glued to the creature as it coiled inward, its jaw hanging low, ropes of black ooze dripping onto the floor. "On my mark, get out into the hallway!"

The creature shot forward, unnervingly quick for a thing of its size, and Lita stepped to the side just in time to bring the edge of her blade across the neck of the worm, right below the disjointed jaw. As before, the metal passed through with disturbing ease. But this time, the vile shadow-stuff arced away from the weapon as the slick, tarred head of the worm dropped onto the rug with a sound that turned Lita's stomach. The body spasmed, sinking inward, and Lita took her chance.

"Now!" She cried, darting past the headless worm and following Laurelai out into the Alley beyond her office. Barely thinking, Lita slid the Coin back into her pocket and grabbed Laurelai's hand, not even looking backward as she bent reality and began to Alleytravel.

She took them to one of the more deserted Acquisitions Alleys first, still moving at a speed just below a run, then turned a corner and Alleytravelled again. Lita connected them to three more completely unrelated Alleys before linking them up somewhere in the R&D department. The cobbled ground was slightly sticky beneath her the soles of her shoes, and it was with some surprise that Lita realized she was still wearing her stilettos.

"So, Department Head. Quite the promotion," Laurelai said, speaking for the first time since they started their flight, her voice somewhat strained from their run. "Seems to have been less painful than your last one."

"You haven't seen my in-tray," Lita said, smiling despite the pounding of her heart. She flared her Tin, looking behind them for any signs of shadows behaving oddly. Rusts, this whole damned guild is full of odd shadows. They needed somewhere predictable, somewhere normal, to regroup and figure out what to do.

"One more jump." Lita gripped Laurelai's hand tighter and wove a new path, taking them clear across the city into the very outer Alleys, where the sky was no longer a boiling Void but blue and clear and real.

The two of them stumbled out onto a wide, clean thoroughfare directly opposite the polished facade of the Grand Hotel. They immediately began to garner looks, covered in black ichor as they were, Lita still clutching her ring bayonet as they fairly sprinted up the steps and into the lobby. The young man at the front desk stared at them, mouth slightly open, as they crossed the spacious entryway and blessedly caught the first elevator Lita called. The golden doors slid closed, and Lita pressed the button for the eleventh floor before leaning against the wall of the elevator and looking over at Laurelai.

"Well, you look terrible." Lita grinned, then began to laugh.

@Voidus

Quote

Let's move to the Alleycity Thread, yes?

Edited March 26, 2022 by ZincAboutIt

Voidus · March 27, 2022

Whisper had not even had the chance to take a deep, comforting breath of Alley air before realising her mistake. Someone had followed her into the alley. Sometimes that was intentional, when R&D wanted some more subjects but in this case it had simply been her own foolishness. A rookie mistake of the sort that so often caused her to deride others for lack of forethought.

She stopped in the Alley, thankfully one of the less horrifying, and looked back to the individual who had chased her here. Disposing of him would be the simplest solution but she hadn't researched him at all, it was possible that he was well known or connected, possible even that some had seen him chase into the Alleys. And that could cause an unfortunate amount of attention for all of them. Ordinarily she would lead him to Acquisitions who could spike the memories of the Alleys from him, but he had followed her while she was on a mission which Lita had explicitly told her not to discuss.

"How odd." He remarked, looking around with curiosity.

Her head tilted reflexively at his response. He was shocked understandably but other than that seemed more curious than terrified. And as she studied him closer she realised something else, the man was quiet. The ringing in her ears had finally stopped and she could hear once again, though there was little to hear in this particular alley other than his speech. But other than the actual words he spoke the man was utterly silent, she could not hear even the faintest of whispers from him.

How odd. She mentally echoed as she studied him.

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

It was not an illusion, nor did he think this was the cognitive realm. The Professor was quite familiar with both from previous research, but this seemed to be something else entirely. Something rather strange and oddly comfortable about the space, the walls were not close enough to induce any claustrophobia and there was a dim light which provided illumination. It might even have been peaceful if it weren't for the sky of tumultuous darkness that felt like it were ready to reach out and engulf him.

"Don't look up." A hollow voice called out, echoing strangely in the space.

He looked towards the only other person nearby, but his mouth was not moving and the gravelly disjointed tone did not match his appearance. In fact from how he had pointed out the scars on his throat, the Professor had assumed him mute.

"Yes, I speak." The voice called out, and by the boy's facial expressions it did indeed seem to be him. "Can I convince you to leave and forget you saw this?"

He looked at the boy with some amusement at that, as though he could simply forget what appeared to be a trans-dimensional alleyway. Perhaps if he had his daughters talents he could craft a stamp to force himself to forget himself, but he was unfortunately unInvested.

"I'm not typically in the practice of lying so I'll have to say no to that." He replied. "But given that question and our environment, I can only assume that certain rumours about the darker alleys of the city are true? I owe my daughter some apologies."

MacThorstenson · March 27, 2022

On 11/25/2018 at 6:55 PM, Voidus said:

Jeffrey marched along the halls, a pile of Koloss head in one hand, some silvery tinsel in the other, and a ladder in the other other. He hung the tinsel up, using a touch of Adhesion to ensure it stayed there if any of the experiments escaped and tried to tear it off, then balanced a Koloss head in the middle where the tinsel bowed, adhering it in the same way.

He'd never been entirely sure why festive decorations fell upon the decontamination department and not the department of festivity, but the organization of departments in the DA had never made a whole lot of sense.

Johnson stood with a look of defeat on his face, as he stared down the seemingly endless hallway covered with tinsel and decaying Koloss head. He had been in charge of cleaning out Jeffery's desk after the poor man had lost it and tried to decontaminate a black hole. In the midst of cleaning out the various papers and calendars, he found an old to do list. On top of which lay the task of pulling down the holiday decorations from years gone by.

He grimaced. It was forgotten hallways like this that made decontamination in charge of decorations. He carried is bucket of bleach, aluminum powder, and garbage bags to the left side and started the cleaning.

Voidus · April 8, 2022

Good or bad? Whisper wondered as she looked at the strange man. Bad that he won't let this go at least, but the whispers...

The silence was very odd, once she'd noticed the whispers she'd become accustomed to seeing and hearing them everywhere, little fragments of messages that she could almost but not quite make sense of. Most were quiet, little more than the equivalent of an absentmindedly hummed note. Others were louder, and some, like Lita when she had seen her could barely be called whispers at all. And then there was that screech from the earthquake. But nobody was completely silent, nobody until now.

Does this mean he is favoured by Them? Or that he is despised? She wondered. Either way, this must be a message from Them. Now it's just a matter of deciding what to do with him.

She turned on her heel and began to move through the Alley, habitually veering towards the shadows at the side. Unsurprisingly the man followed her, after a small delay, and equally unsurprisingly began to question her almost immediately.

"These would be the so called Dark Alleys then. But how does that work precisely? No Fabrials here to warp the space, nor Aons to create gateways." He began, seeming to create and dismiss a number of theories. "That sensation didn't quite feel right either, not quite the same as Transportation. So not us that moved but the region around us?"

Whispers step faltered at that. It was a remark dangerously close to realising one of the essential tenets of Alleytravel. Others might liken it to some of the other transportation based abilities in the cosmere, but it was fundamentally different than most. Even the most seemingly instantaneous of Alleytravel required a passage, an Alley with zero distance was no Alley at all. True that distance travelled might be miniscule but it was this realisation that kept many from truly understanding how it worked.

"Yes, the Alleys move." She reluctantly confirmed. "Stay close, most are not safe."

He hastened his step a little to catch up with her, leading her to quicken her own stride in turn until he was nearly jogging behind her and had less energy to ask further questions. She valued curiosity greatly, especially when correctly applied. But this was quickly growing dangerous, and she was now certain that at the least she could not allow him to wander back out into the city.

They must want me to kill him. She thought. A dangerous man who cannot hear Them or even hear their whispers but wishes to gain the secrets of the Alleys? Far too dangerous.

"Ah. There it goes again." The man said as she moved them into another Alley, altering the path to lead them deeper into the Alleys. "But you don't seem to be consuming or expending any kind Investiture."

Of course. She thought derisively. No level of Investiture could move the Alleys, they are only moved by Their will, and sometimes we servants are able to shift some pieces of that grand design.

"So these passages themselves. Alleys? They must contain the power to do so, some new form of Investiture."

Whisper felt her heart briefly seize, and her uncertainty only grew. Surely this level of understanding could be nothing but a blessing from Them, how else could an unremarkable mortal from the city pick apart the Alleys secrets so quickly?

"Yes." He said as they shifted once again. "Definitely different from any other Investiture I've seen, the walls have neither Light nor Aons nor any other telltale sign."

She felt the Alleys begin to fumble in her grip as her panic grew, and her pace slowed as she struggled to regain control. But that only gave the Professor more time to think, and if she'd been shocked before his next words very nearly brought her to the brink of fainting.

"And controlled through an exercise of will was it? Like this?"

The Alleys twisted and broke free from Whispers grip as an assortment of others was shuffled into their place at random, an experimental exercise of curiosity with absolutely no regards to the consequences. Which of course meant that the Alleys chosen were not safe, and the next in particular...

"Not that one!" She screamed hoarsely, voice barely audible as the Alleys shifted again.

Voidus · April 12, 2022

Whisper felt the immediate pain in her throat as she screamed, even a whisper was painful for her, this kind of hoarse vocalisation could well tear her throat apart. But she felt one of the forbidden Alleys shift in front of them, Alleys so dangerous and unknown that not even the foolhardy members of R&D ventured into them, or at least those who did did not come out alive. She could still remember what they'd found of the last person to try that journey, what remained of them was enough to turn the stomachs of the most hardened of denizens.

She closed her eyes as she felt the shift, her mind reached out to try to grab something else, anything else to put in their way but she was too disoriented, too panicked to be able to begin the dangerous and methodical work of Alleytravel. She understood at last why others sometimes expressed difficulties with the task, heightened emotions made it nearly impossible.

She clutched onto the sleeve of the man who was bringing them to their doom, wondering if perhaps she could at least twist his neck before she was killed in the Alley, but then, mercifully, she felt a sudden shift as another Alley jittered into place instead of the forbidden Alley.

"What an odd sensation." The man commented drily, voice a little shaky but seemingly unaware of how close they had both come to catastrophe. "My apologies, I seem to have disrupted what you were doing. Bit of an unfortunate habit of mine actually, I'm often told to be more careful at the lab."

More careful? Whisper thought with incredulity. I can't even conceive of an action less careful than that.

The Alley they'd arrived in was thankfully cool and dark, a comfortable, soothing atmosphere. It helped her head cool and her impulse to dispatch of this man immediately subside. Dangerous he might be but he was also clearly skilled, and it would not be worth throwing away a tool that may still have some use to it.

"Never do that again." She said, illusory voice echoing around the Alley. "That was dangerous beyond your ability to understand the meaning of the word."

Shaking her head she tried to figure out where they had ended up so she could find a safe route back but she was quickly distracted by the Alley itself, the walls were natural stone rather than brick or concrete, not all that unusual as Alleys go but the atmosphere certainly was. It felt peaceful here, beyond the usual comfort Whisper found in the Alleys. It felt like safety, even though none of the Alleys should ever be considered that.

Most distracting however, was as she examined the Alley and found a small depression in the stone, a natural pool had formed. And from above a silent, and gently falling rain continued to fill that pool.

Voidus · April 21, 2022

Professor Esserethel was not what one would call a cautious man, certainly working in a laboratory meant he was aware of and adhered to numerous safety standards, but he had always had a habit of getting a little carried away with research. Sometimes that meant forgetting that the beaker next to him had been filled with a pewter solution for testing Allomancy and not, as he had thought, his coffee. Other times that had meant leaning in too close to an Aonic rune as it activated.

It was with this same sense of wildly driven curiosity and lack of attention to safety that he had inadvertently seized control of the method of transportation that the young person accompanying him had been using.

But even he felt a twinge of caution as he looked around his surroundings and noticed a pool of water that seemed to be beckoning him with a silent siren's song. He wasn't entirely sure what it was about the pool that looked so alluring, only that it seemed somehow to promise calm contemplation of all the world around it. Here was a place that answers could be found.

Not Allomancy. He noted curiously as he began to circle the pool at a distance. More specific than a Soother can manage, and even with the intensity of the emotions it feels oddly natural.

Emotional Allomancy tended to be less effective the more obvious it was, but even being fully aware that there was an unnatural influence on his mind, the Professor found his gaze drifting back to the pool time and again.

"What do you make of it?" He asked, quiet voice echoing in the stone cavern.

With some effort he pulled his attention away from the pool and towards his companion who stood staring at it with just as much rapt attention as he had. As he watched their figure distorted slightly, from a young boy to a girl, then a woman before finally settling again. An illusionist then? One of the Lightweavers unless he was much mistaken. And one who was now struggling to keep their attention on what they had already woven.

"Perhaps we should leave?" He suggested in a slightly worried tone. "Ordinarily I'm all for exploring curiosity, but this seems..."

"Yes." The hoarse voice spoke again, seeming to emanate from the stonework around them. "Perhaps we should."

But rather than retreat the figure stepped forwards, towards the pool. Like iron to a lodestone they moved steadily and inexorably towards it until they were almost close enough to catch the falling droplets. The Professor felt a momentary terror at that, he was not sure what would happen to someone standing underneath that water but he doubted it was pleasant, usually pleasant things did not need to mentally manipulate people into interacting with them.

"I think that's close enough." The Professor said, moving suspiciously in her wake and placing an arm on her shoulder to prevent her taking that final step.

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

Whisper could feel something from that pool, a voice not dissimilar from the whispers but thousands of times clearer. A voice that promised her answers, the solution to all her problems and the revelation of all that she wished to know. She would finally be able to not just hear but to understand. She could hear the words of her gods and know their will at last.

"I think that's close enough." A voice said, it felt distant even as her mind recognised the speaker as standing only a foot behind her.

No. Another voice whispered to her. Not close enough. So close, so very close. But not close enough.

One more step and she could bathe in those calming waters and hear what they had to tell her. Could hear everything they had to tell her.

"Not close enough." She muttered in agreement.

She tried to step forwards only to be stopped by a steady pressure on her shoulder. She spared it the briefest of glances to identify the hand before looking back to the pool and the waters.

"Let go." She said calmly, using her own voice this time. The hoarse whisper still audible in this place of silence.

"I'm not sure that that's the best idea." The man said, hand tightening on her shoulder. "I think that we should-"

In a smooth motion she ducked under his grip, grabbed his hand with hers and bent the wrist back on itself, forcing the man back a step as he yelled in surprise. And that moment was all she needed to take that final step into the waters and feel the rain washing over her.

+ZincAboutIt · April 27, 2022

There was a light smell of smoke in the air as Lita entered her office, and she paused in the doorway, holding her hand up to keep Laurelai from walking into her back. Lita burned Tin, green eyes sweeping across the room, catching small details that felt…wrong. Her chair had fallen backwards, and there was a scattering of cold embers across her rug.

That explains the smoke, she thought, walking into the room and crouching down to inspect the rug. The embers had fallen in an arc well away from the fireplace. Like they’ve been thrown. Lita flexed her left hand unconsciously, almost recalling the sensation of heat against her skin. There was a slight discoloration on the rug, and Lita passed a finger through the stain. It came back slick, almost greasy, and slightly dark in color.

Had one of the Strangers gone through and trashed the place? The thought raised a wave of goosebumps over her arms, though Lita had no idea why. Besides, that was entirely unlike them - they delivered mail and occasionally did Acquisitions work. Lita didn’t even think they had real interests. Why would they scatter ashes and oil all over her rug?

Lita stood and shook her head. “Rusting R&D interns,” she muttered, tipping her chair back onto its feet with the toe of her shoe. “Never can keep them out of my things.”

She sat down, placing her chin in her hand for a moment before looking back towards Laurelai.

”I don’t know about you but I am knackered.” Lita pinched the bridge of her nose and extinguished her Tin, trying to stave off a rising headache. “You’re welcome to go home, or if you wish to try your Forgery method now you may use the laboratory over there.” She waved to a door on the far side of the room. “It should have all you might need. Tomorrow we investigate that tailor. Tonight, I have some things I need to get done.”

Lita stared at her in-tray with mounting distaste, then pulled the first memo off the top.

”And Laurelai,” she looked up, giving a small, yet genuine, smile. “Well done today.”

@Voidus

Voidus · May 2, 2022

Laurelai had many years of practice trying to recreate a scene from small details, but as she arrived in Lita's office once again she had to stifle her confusion. For one the room did not appear as it had earlier that day, there seemed a moderate amount of chaos to the otherwise orderly room. She noticed the scattered ashen material when Lita bent to examine it but couldn't place why it would have been spread in such a pattern. There was no blood, no bodies, no signs that anyone had been struggling in the room but why then did she get the impression that there had been a fight?

“Rusting R&D interns,” Litamuttered, rearranging her seat before settling in again. “Never can keep them out of my things.”

Laurelai gave a small smile, though she was unsure exactly what an R&D intern entailed. It seemed to be another department but she was still discovering the exact nature and hierarchy here, so she simply noted the comment mentally and vowed to perhaps steer clear of any R&D interns should she meet one.

She was on the verge of replying when a shiver went down her spine and her attention snapped to the ceiling. She scanned the roof carefully, trying to identify the cause, but the sensation faded as quickly as it had arrived and with no further explanation. Perhaps she'd simply become too tired, she felt oddly exhausted still even after apparently sleeping during a discussion with her new boss.

”I don’t know about you but I am knackered.” Lita said, echoing Laurelai's feelings and prompting a somewhat more genuine smile. “You’re welcome to go home, or if you wish to try your Forgery method now you may use the laboratory over there.”

Laurelai glanced at the door, curiosity briefly warring with her exhaustion before finally she shook her head. It was late in the day and she had supplies in her apartment, along with somewhere comfortable to sleep once she grew too tired to continue. Better to rest properly tonight to prevent any embarrassing repeats of what had happened earlier. As she crossed to the door back towards the Alleys she was about to wish Lita a goodnight when the other woman spoke.

”And Laurelai,” she looked up, giving a small, yet genuine, smile. “Well done today.”

"Thank you." Laurelai said, matching the smile and suppressing a small blush of pride. "I'll get started on the Forgery at home and meet you in the morning then."

They were such simple words. Laurelai reflected, closing the door gently behind her as she left the office and began to walk back along the quiet, eerie Alleys. But even those simple words had felt somehow very encouraging coming from Lita. Perhaps that was simply one of the many qualities that made her so suitable for leadership, an innate charisma that made one feel as though they had been friends even after just a brief acquaintance.

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

Professor Esserthel winced as the small figure stepped into the water. Instinctively he started to move the rest of his body back even as he stretched one hand out to grab her but before she sidestepped his clumsy attempt to grab her effortlessly and moved beneath what was clearly some form of dangerous trap before standing still in the water. Her form shivered and melted away again, revealing what he assumed to be her true form of a young woman of short stature and somewhat ratty clothing. Cleaner than she had first appeared but somewhat gaunt and malnourished.

Miraculously the water seemed to be neither poisonous nor acidic as the Professor had feared, at least he assumed not by the way she stood underneath it without further complaint. Was it simply some natural effect that it played on curiosity? He supposed not everything with such a luring effect was inherently dangerous, just more likely to be so. But he could not deny the evidence in front of him, that this appeared to simply be water.

"Are you alright?" He asked. "Did it hurt you? Is it safe?"

He stifled an urge to ask other clarifying questions about the nature of the water to try to identify it, but preserving her life and well-being should be the priority for now he thought, watching her expectantly. But no reply came, either from her own hoarse voice or the strange sourceless one. Instead she stood calmly in the water, staring ahead with unfocussed eyes that seemed to momentarily dart from place to place, never quite resting.

"Can you hear me?" He asked again, waving a hand in front to see if she tracked the motion. "Are you alright?"

Still no response, she didn't even follow the movement. He reached out to one of her arms that was outside of the downpour to try to see if tactile sensation might work but the instant he started to reach for it she had already retracted the hand. Even without paying any attention she seemed to have remarkably quick reactions. Perhaps this water was some kind of creature which now controlled her? Using senses other than her own to perceive his movement.

"Well this is something of a problem." He mused, looking sternly at the woman in the rain. But he could not quite hide the small smile that rose to his lips at the puzzle.

+ZincAboutIt · May 2, 2022

Quote

This thread has now time-skipped ahead one week, except for the isolated Professor/Whisper scene in the Chapel.

In a small room behind a pale blue door, Lita dreamed of a storm. Icy rain poured down in sheets, whipped into her eyes by a wind that turned the droplets into freezing lances. Lightning cracked in the sky, the bright white flare contrasting with the ruddy glow of firelight. All around Lita, the city screamed and burned.

In her sleep, Lita turned, curling inward as though in pain. She winced, giving a soft cry, the phantom wound in her right side nearly waking her as another crack of lightning illuminated a wide, white smile. Lita hovered there on the edge of wakefulness, eyelids fluttering once, before her breathing steadied. She nestled into her pillow as sleep dragged her into another dream…

…

“Lord Montrell,” Forian called, his voice a charming baritone pitched just right to cut through the low buzz of conversation. Lita watched as a man in his middle years detached himself from a small knot of guests and made his way over to them.

“Forian Tekiel, as I live and breathe,” Lord Montrell Hasting grinned and took a careless sip from his wine glass. A little wine leaked out into his beard, red staining the salt-and-pepper strands.

Been drinking a bit too much already, my lord? Lita thought, making a note of it. That kind of information made all the difference in their line of work, and it was Lita’s job to find it.

“I thought you’d left the city,” Montrell continued, still grinning as the three of them walked further into the ballroom. This was Hasting territory, and despite Montrell’s jovial tone, Houses Hasting and Tekiel had been waging a silent trade war for the better part of a year now.

And Forian’s little smuggling gang was about to try and play both sides.

“Monty,” Forian chided, snagging two glasses of wine from a passing server, “I thought you were above that sort of petty gossip.”

He pushed one of the glasses into Lita’s hand, meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second. Lita had to resist a sigh. She already knew she wasn’t supposed to drink this evening. Too much depended on this event, and Lita needed all her wits about her.

Lord Montrell gave a hearty chuckle. “Well then you don’t know me at all. Gossip is what I live for, my boy! Rumors are their own kind of currency.”

His eyes flicked from Forian to Lita as she pretended to take a drink. Tin let her catch errant fragments of other conversations as they passed.

“- the gall of the outer cities to propose tariffs on Elendel goods -“

“Have you heard Lady Ereinne was caught with the -“

“-won’t believe what they’re charging for a gown this season -“

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, my dear,” Lord Montrell said, stopping at a high top table and leaning against it with only slightly more weight than necessary. “Forian, who is this delightful creature?”

Forian slid his hand around her waist, coming to rest far too close to her bust than was proper for a Lord of means. “Just a little something I picked up in the Sixth Octant. Amazing the jewels you can find just lying around in the gutter. All they need is a bit of polish, isn’t that right darling?”

Lita pulled the first stirrings of heat in her cheeks back into one of the brass cuffs in her ears, then gave Lord Montrell a soft smile. “Forian is well-practiced at polishing his jewels, my lord,” she said, keeping her face carefully blank.

Montrell, who had begun to take another sip of wine, sputtered half of it back into the glass as he gave a belly-shaking laugh. Not a few people glanced over, and Lita couldn’t help but give the tiniest smirk.

“Harmony’s Bands, but I like her, Forian,” he said between coughs, mopping at his cravat with a handkerchief. “Everyone here’s so rusting stiff all the time, I haven’t heard a proper joke in ages.”

Lita chanced a sidelong look at Forian, whose amiable grin had fractured slightly into something much more sharp. There were two spots of color high on his cheeks, and he clenched his wine glass with white knuckles.

Rusts. Wrong move, Lita.

“Bring her round after the dancing and we’ll talk business, eh?”

“Of course, Lord Montrell,” Forian said, taking Lita’s arm in a vice-like grip. “Now, do excuse us.”

Forian tugged her through the crowd, and Lita had to nearly run to keep him from dragging her, dodging around guests and murmuring apologies as they went. She could hear the light ‘clack clack’ of her heeled shoes against the fine wood floor, along with Forian’s angry, huffing breaths.

They arrived at the dance floor just as the string quartet was beginning a new song, and Forian pulled her close, his mouth inches from her ear.

“What the hell was that?” He hissed, as they began to dance. Lita moved through the waltz mechanically, trying to stave off a rising tide of fear. Tin let her smell the wine on his breath, and the brandy from earlier. A vein jumped at his temple, nearly concealed by his thick black hair.

“Lord Montrell is infamous for being irreverent, and he’s already three quarters drunk,” Lita whispered, hoping that if she could just get the words out fast enough, she could stem the tide of Forian’s fury. “I thought a joke might soften him up, and I was right. He invited -“

“What,” Forian said through clenched teeth, “did I say about thinking, Lita?”

“You said-“ Lita swallowed a growing panic. She could fix this. She just had to give him what he wanted. “You said to-“

“To leave it up to me,” Forian finished. The music swelled, and he spun her before pulling her back in, gripping her right wrist instead of her hand and beginning to squeeze. Lita winced, biting her tongue to keep from whimpering. He knew she’d be burning Tin. That was the only time he ever hurt her.

“Forian, please,” she whispered, the lights of the ballroom blurring as her eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’ll leave a mark.”

Forian growled softly, but let up a bit. That would draw the wrong kind of attention, and he knew it. He took a deep breath, seeming to calm slightly.

“Lita, Lita, my little dove,” he said, voice smoother but no less dangerous. “One would think you’d be a little more grateful, after I plucked you out of that hovel your father called a Soothing parlour.”

Lita clenched her jaw at his mention of her father. “My father is a good person,” she whispered. Better than you’ll ever be, Forian Tekiel. Better than me.

Forian laughed, all derision. “Your father is a fool. How long have we been using his basement to hide our wares? A year now?” He scoffed. “Just goes to show that emotional Allomancy doesn’t account for brains.”

“Forian,” Lita gave him a warning glare. “I’m surely not the only Tineye here. You don’t know who could be listening.”

“It seems to me,” Forian moved his hand up her back to rest at the nape of her neck, sliding one finger beneath the beautiful emerald and pearl choker he’d given her as a gift, “that this Tineye needs to listen a little better.” He tugged at the necklace, pressing the center stone ever so slightly against Lita’s throat.

Lita stared back into his grey-blue eyes, feeling a seething anger building within her chest. “I’m not your whore, Forian,” she whispered.

“You’re whatever I want, you little gutter rat,” he spat, leaning close enough that she could hear his pulse. “You slum-trash are all the same, desperate for a lick at the scraps from our table. I know you’d do anything to be where you are, you hungry little wretch. And you have.” There was a smug smile in his voice; Lita hated him for it, even as she loved him.

The music was swelling to a crescendo, and as Forian spun her one last time, she felt a single tear trace down her cheek.

“Now,” Forian said, his hand back on her waist, every inch a gentleman. “Are you going to be my good little Tineye?”

Lita nodded, forcing herself to smile. “Of course, Forian,” she said, her voice small. “Whatever you want.”

Forian returned the smile, reaching up to brush the tear away. “There now,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Lita shook her head as the music began to change keys. The conductor called out the next dance, which would mandate a switch in partners. “Be good,” he whispered, kissing her cheek as he squeezed her wrist just once more.

She winced, and he was gone.

The new song began, and Lita stood dumbly for a moment before someone lightly took her hand, resting the other at the small of her back. She began to dance, still staring at nothing, until she realized how out of place she would look.

Pull it together, Lita. This is no time to come apart.

“My apologies, my lord,” she said, sniffing once and putting a smile back on her face. “All the excitement of this evening has me—“

Lita looked up, and her words died in her throat.

The man before her was tall, cutting a fine figure in his black suit, deep purple waistcoat and matching cravat. All those deep colors were offset by a gold watch-chain that disappeared into his suit pocket, and a row of bright golden buttons on the waistcoat that reminded Lita of coins. A flash of gold at his wrist hinted at similar cuff links.

The dark colors were a bit out of season; most of the attendees had dressed in greens, like Lita herself, or blues. But the deep shades seemed right on him. They accentuated his rich brown skin and tight black curls, which he had pulled back into a short tail. Some of the curls had escaped, giving him a slightly wild appearance that was furthered by his smile. It was white and sharp, and Lita was immediately reminded of the stories of sharks out in Hammondar Bay.

He moved with all the casual grace of a practiced dancer, but somehow every inch of the man radiated danger. And then Lita looked into his eyes.

She felt every hair on her body stand on end, and a deep instinct screamed at her to run. But Lita did not run; something held her there, drawing her like metal to a Lurcher. There was something so terribly familiar about this stranger, an assurance that she knew him. But Lita would have remembered a man like this, a man with one eye so black that it seemed to be sliced through reality itself, and the other replaced with a single silvery spike driven point-first through his skull.

His smile widened, and Lita half-remembered curling shadows and whispered secrets, a white smile behind a pale blue door, a golden Coin in her hand. A stranger in her doorway. She shuddered, fear mixing with something hotter and sweeter.

“I know you,” she breathed, and as she spoke it she knew it was true.

The music swelled, and the man’s grin stretched even wider. “Good evening, Little Lita.”

@Fatebreaker

People you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley

Recommended Posts

Top Posters In This Topic

Popular Days

Top Posters In This Topic

Popular Days

Popular Posts

Kobold King

Voidus

Voidus

Posted Images

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

MacThorstenson he/him

+ZincAboutIt she/her

Fatebreaker he/him

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

MacThorstenson he/him

+ZincAboutIt she/her

+ZincAboutIt she/her

Create an account or sign in to comment

Create an account

Sign in

Recently Browsing 0 members