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

[Snipexe]

"Why, did we do this to you. To be honest, part of it was just... to see what happens. This is the Dark Alley, the most prestigious scientific organization in the world, and the most horrifying. Our science, primarily focused on Hemalurgy and related fields, is brutal in nature, and sometimes you just have to take a leap, and hope that you can build monstrous wings before you hit the ground. Your procedure was one of those leaps, and now we are finding out with you the results. As for specifics, well it's rather hard to explain. If it helps, our crime against you was one of opportunity rather than malice. You're spiritually cracked, and we could use that. We're monsters, Sierra, pushing forward advancement without reason or rhyme. The Dark Alley is a bloody Prometheus, bringing down fire to set the world alight. We can't help but do what we do. For most, it's our only solace. Dedicating oneself to the advancement of something beyond the self is a comfort. A focus. A way to forget. For such terrible creatures that we Denizens are, we are so very broken."

@Shard of Thought

[Fatebreaker]

24 minutes ago, Snipexe said:

"Why, did we do this to you. To be honest, part of it was just... to see what happens. This is the Dark Alley, the most prestigious scientific organization in the world, and the most horrifying. Our science, primarily focused on Hemalurgy and related fields, is brutal in nature, and sometimes you just have to take a leap, and hope that you can build monstrous wings before you hit the ground. Your procedure was one of those leaps, and now we are finding out with you the results. As for specifics, well it's rather hard to explain. If it helps, our crime against you was one of opportunity rather than malice. You're spiritually cracked, and we could use that. We're monsters, Sierra, pushing forward advancement without reason or rhyme. The Dark Alley is a bloody Prometheus, bringing down fire to set the world alight. We can't help but do what we do. For most, it's our only solace. Dedicating oneself to the advancement of something beyond the self is a comfort. A focus. A way to forget. For such terrible creatures that we Denizens are, we are so very broken."

@Shard of Thought

Quote

I very much enjoyed this description

 

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

Sierra sat still. She should probably be horrified, but for some reason she wasn't. His last few sentences had hit her hard. She hardly understood what in the world he was talking about, but she did know that she wanted to find out more. And she felt, for some odd reason, that she belonged here. Her head still ached, but her mother's berating screams inside of her mind had quieted slightly. How she would love to forget her own brokenness. She nodded. "I want that," she said, still deeply shaken. 

@Snipexe

[Snipexe]

Grey nodded at her response, then reached into his lab coat and pulled out two silvery spikes, one in each hand. "The spike in my left is a loyalty spike. It is a requirement for all members of the Dark Alley. It will prevent you from ever betraying us to some another organization. Be aware, this not some kind of precautionary protocol, this spike will fundamentally rewrite your personality such that your mind will not be able to even consider leaving the Dark Alley. The spike in my right hand contains the basics knowledge that all denizens are required to have. Basics in Alleytraveling, Hemalurgy, and general Dark Alley procedure will become part of you, and will feel like you've always had it." Grey paused, looking directly into Sierra's eyes with his own single orb. "This is the final step to becoming a denizen. After this point there will be know turning back. Do you want these spikes Sierra?"

@Shard of Thought

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

The spikes carried a weight to them. No matter what she did next, today the old Sierra, who could lie to herself and pretend that she didn't really understand just how dark her world really was, would die. The question was, what kind of a person did she want to be when she was reborn? Only a few hours had passed since Theresa had been murdered and, in fact, Sierra's hands were still a little bit red with her dried blood. She tried not to think about that. So much had happened since that moment. She felt as if she had aged a decade in that time. Not in wisdom, but in frailty. For the moment, her shell had been peeled painfully back to reveal the soft, human innards beneath. But that was her truest self and she knew it. There was no putting her old shell back on. 

She just had to get stronger. 

Sierra set her jaw, narrowing her eyes with determination. "Yes," she said firmly. 

@Snipexe

[Snipexe]

As the words were uttered, Grey acted. He shoved the two spikes into their requisite bind points, pushing them deeply into the Sierra's flesh. Blood dripped from the twin wounds.

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

Sierra gasped, a screech ripped from her throat. She gripped the sides of her chair, bony knuckles turning white. Tears of pain dripped down her cheeks, but she gritted her teeth against it. She sat still for an extended moment, shaking steadily and trying to focus on anything but the agony. When she finally got a hold of herself, she grabbed her glass with a trembling hand and downed the rest of her water. She slammed the cup back onto the table. "More," she gasped.

[Snipexe]

Grey laughed at Sierra's response, before soul casting more water into the glass. "Now, tell me, what do you think of when I say the word Hemalurgy?"

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

Sierra grabbed the glass with both hands and drank the entire thing in one draught. She was breathing heavily as she set it down, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her thin coat. "Blood," she said. "Bind points. Spikes." Sierra paused. "How the hell do I know that?"

[Snipexe]

Grey pointed at the spikes buried in her in response. "So, now that you have access to all this new information, what would you like to do?"

[Zephrun’s Imperium]

Sierra smiled for the first time in weeks. The expression felt oddly instinctual, yet dissonant against her pain. She stabbed a piece of of cinnamon roll with her fork and shoved it in her mouth. By now, it wasn't as hot as before, but it tasted just as wonderful. "I wanna stab some things," Sierra said lightheartedly. 

[+Ark1002]

Quote

My brain just spasmed a bit at seeing voidus with a different profile picture

 

[18th Shard]

22 hours ago, Sorana said:

Snake smiled at the explanation and sat down when the servant brought a chair over. He didn't move as quickly as she would have liked, but Mike wouldn't have scolded him, so she carefully kept quiet. It sounded easy. Use the one with the identity and replace herself with Mike. She had no use for the second one, knew who he was and who she wanted to be. This was her chance. Mike was too weak and Fox, hopefully these medallions would help her to deal with Fox easily.

She closed her hand around the medallion and concentrated, tried to figure out how she was supposed to tap some invisible identity stored inside.

Mike looked around in the darkness surrounding him, covering him completely. It was eerie, the way it was so quiet, how it was so calm and still. At first he didn't even know who had taken over, only when he saw Fox lying around, appearently sleeping and found Squirrel sitting on his shoulder that he realized that it had been Snake. She had used his fear, his lack of control to ease him out of his place and gently set him aside.

He stared up, somehow glad that Snake was gone, that he had escaped the situation and sat down, holding Squirrel to his chest. He would wait. Snake usually grew bored of being in control sooner rather than later.

"She won't hand control back."

The voice was quiet, nearly unhearable and he turned his head, looked at Salmon. "The medallions will decide who you will be and if she is in charge, she will continue to be." Cold ran along his spine and he felt a weight settle on his chest. So this was it. This was his end. And he had never even managed to find the one who had killed his friend. Staring into the darkness he sat there, did nothing while he tried to understand and to grasp what happened. He was here, she was up there. It had been a long time since he had been able to pull her back down and to reassert control all by himself.

Something changed, the darkness growing smaller and Fox jumped to his feet, looked around, tried to find the reason. Salmon only turned around, swam away and Mike stood up again, looked at his hands, at his arms. He was growing transparent, was loosing his shape. Snake. She was strengthening herself, strengthening the part of him that was her, erasing him completly. Squirrel shuddered and Mike pushed against the darkness, fear racing through his body, followed by desperation. This was his body, his place. He had to look after Wes, had promised the other one, that he would be there for him. He had wanted to become someone Wes could trust, but so far, he had failed. He needed more time, needed to find the murderer, needed to find a way to protect Wes. Mike reached out for Snake and he pulled, pulled and pulled but nothing changed and he screamed, pulled some more. This was his body, his place. And he couldn't leave it to Snake. He had condemned one friend. He couldn't betray another.

His left arm shot forward, scales vanishing and he reached for Xanas hand to grip it in a painfully tight grip. "Help." He whispered.

Scales began creeping up Mike's body. Mike seemed calmer, more like earlier when Xanas had met him in the city. Perhaps the cold-blooded animal traits were connected with a lower pulse? Suddenly, the scales receded from Mike's arm, and he reached out, panicking. Xanas quickly twisted his wrist as Mike reached out for his hand. Mike grabbed his wrist, tightly gripping, but Xanas had moved his finger to a pressure point on the inside of his wrist. If he needed, he could apply pressure, open the grip relatively. The grip was fairly tight, the flexor muscles groups in his forearm taut. If Xanas's body had been capable of it, he probably would have felt a twinge of pain.

"Help." Mike whispered, as if in pain or choking. Xanas looked into Mike's eyes, staring at his dark, snake-like pupils, which stared back at him. They were fluctuating slightly, expanding slightly in a pattern that seemed vaguely sinusoidal, though Xanas would need to track it more precisely to be sure of what was causing it to... The spikes, Xanas realized. They aren't just alternate frames of reference, like Winter alternating wolf and human instincts. This is stronger, maybe even severe personality fluctuations. Storms. Xanas had perhaps miscalculated, though, to be fair, he wasn't working in a particularly nice lab. This is exactly why Hemalurgy is done with control subjects, and desirable traits are carefully altered. It was a fundamental law of Hemalurgic research - you didn't spike for output, but for outcome. Whatever Denizen sanctioned this should spend a short eternity in one of the Lovecraftian Alleys. Maybe then they would understand the reason for basic scientific processes. Xanas looked at the metalmind. He was unsure of how Identity would respond with these personality fluctuations. Would it reinforce the original Identity or amplify variations? Would it shift baseline measurements or just alter the severity of personality drift? Were there genetic factors that might trigger chemical imbalances? Did the fluctuations produce vibrations along the spiritweb, or was it merely mentally affective? Not enough time to consider the various options. I need to reintroduce the original strain of Mike to get a stable Identity-tap. Tests later, results now. He ran through his limited supplies quickly, then shrugged. There really weren't any other options. He took the vial of gold flakes and poured them into Mike's mouth.

"Burn the gold. You'll have to tap the other metalmind to be able to. Concentrate on what you see."

Quote

Poor Xanas. First interesting tests he could run in 1300 years, and he's gotta save someone's sanity instead. It's almost as rough a day as Mike has been going through. That's the life of a vaguely ethical Hemalurgist, I suppose.

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

16 minutes ago, 18th Shard said:

Poor Xanas. First interesting tests he could run in 1300 years, and he's gotta save someone's sanity instead. It's almost as rough a day as Mike has been going through. That's the life of a vaguely ethical Hemalurgist, I suppose.

Quote

I would have been fine with him destroying Mike completely

But I have to admit, I like this version a lot more.

"Burn the gold. You'll have to tap the other metalmind to be able to. Concentrate on what you see."

Snake nodded, eager to go on to get rid of the voices in her head. She knew that she was stronger than before, that she had never been as much in control as she was now. She reached out for the other medallion and quickly tapped it, the process easy now, that she knew what she was supposed to do. Feeling into herself she looked for a change, her mouth opening in surprise at the reserve that had appeared in her chest. It was beautiful and she smiled, unconciously tasting the air again, before reaching for the power resting inside of her. It responded, as eager as she was to get this over with, to finish this progress, to finally be herself. Images sprang up in the air in front of her and she flinched back, as if hit by a strong slap.

Mike was staring at her, his eyes dark and sad. He was wearing simple dark cloths, but his body was obviously weaker than the one she used, and he held himself in a harmless, soft way that repulsed her. Her eyes moved to his arm and she frowned in surprise when she saw the the tattoo was missing and now that she was looking closely. He appeared to be a child. There was nothing hard, nothing strong in the way he glanced around, nothing but weakness and innocence. This boy never had harmed anybody.

With a disgusted noise she turned away, only to find another Mike staring at her. This Mike had the tattoo and he looked like the one she knew. But his gaze was strong and self confident, and he carried himself with a natural calm and peace that she had never seen in the Mike she used. At least not, when he was in charge. He was always grovveling around, trying to make everybody happy, trying to help the weak ones. With disdain she looked at the two faces, and then stopped. There was no point to go on.

Mike stared at himself, at the choices he'd done or not done. Join the Ghostbloods or leave them alone. Try to revenge his friend or leave it alone. He stared and stared, at the calmness both versions of him emanated at the strange peace they all felt. Versions of himself that he could have been, if he had considered his actions for once, instead of rushing into everything without thinking twice.

His eyes rested on the Mike that had been wise enough to not attack Ark, at the way he held himself, how he self strong and self confident. It hurt to see himself like that, so strong so calm, like a person that had earned the promotion he had declined. Suddenly the images were gone again and he paused, realized that he wanted to see them again. He reached for the reserve and the pictures appeared again, allowed him to see who he could have been, if he had been a wiser person. Who he could have been. Not who he was. He felt his body flinch, jerk in confusion when the images appeared again shortly after they had vanished, but he ignored it. Instead he reached out for the other medallion, tapped what had been stored inside. It felt strange, to do something, without having control over his body, but at the same time it worked, easily and quickly, as if he had done nothing else for years.

Something changed around him, the darkness vanishing, and Mike turned around his own axis, as he saw them all.

Snake, her tongue tasting the air, her scales a beautiful green that shone in the gently light around them.

Fox, his fur not bloddy anymore, his eyes intelligent and strong, sitting there, his tail moving slightly now and then.

Squirrel, sitting attentively on her hindlegs, her ears and face towards him.

Salmon, as usual quiet and calm, but a part of the others just the same.

Mike's eyes widened in surprise as he continued to turn as he saw the others waiting for him here.

Wolf, licking his paws, his ear twitching every now and then.

And squid, floating in the air as if it was water, radiating the quiet friendliness he had come to love.

He paused when he saw the empty spot where Pocupine would have waited for him, a pang of sadness making his eyes water. He had lost her. The moment he had ripped the spike out he had lost her.

Mike found himself smiling at them, despite the months of warring against each other, of fighting, of running away and hiding. There were here, they belonged to him, just as he belonged to them. Together they formed a larger picture, a whole image, on their own they were incomplete. He closed his eyes and then took a step forward.

Mike opened his eyes. They were dark, their pupils round like a humans. He was still tapping identity could feel something change as he more and more resumed control over his body, over who he was. He opened his fingers, let go of Xanas wrist and touched the spikes hidden beneath his shirt. As usual they were cool to the touch, but for the first time he felt as if they were a part of him. He hadn't chosen them, hadn't chosen this path. But he had made the choice leading to it and while he could fight, could berate himself for years and years to come, he could also accept it, and just go on.

"Thank you." He said quietly, not quite meeting Xanas eyes, lingering fear making him weary.

[18th Shard]

20 hours ago, Sorana said:

...Mike found himself smiling at them, despite the months of warring against each other, of fighting, of running away and hiding. There were here, they belonged to him, just as he belonged to them. Together they formed a larger picture, a whole image, on their own they were incomplete. He closed his eyes and then took a step forward.

Mike opened his eyes. They were dark, their pupils round like a humans. He was still tapping identity could feel something change as he more and more resumed control over his body, over who he was. He opened his fingers, let go of Xanas wrist and touched the spikes hidden beneath his shirt. As usual they were cool to the touch, but for the first time he felt as if they were a part of him. He hadn't chosen them, hadn't chosen this path. But he had made the choice leading to it and while he could fight, could berate himself for years and years to come, he could also accept it, and just go on.

"Thank you." He said quietly, not quite meeting Xanas eyes, lingering fear making him weary.

Xanas watched the scales recede, and Mike straightened, just slightly. His eyes took on a more determined look, and you could tell just by looking at him that some measure of confidence had grown within. Most people clambered for an opportunity to get Feruchemical gold, but in Xanas' opinion, sometimes, the Allomantic variety could heal far more potently.

"You are very welcome, Mike," Xanas replied, "but, please, don't give me all the credit. There are many men who would do what you just did, and swear they would never again burn gold. They would despise the shadows they saw, hate the person they might have been. There are others who would wallow in self-pity for the rest of their lives, sneaking glimpses of a life they won't ever commit to living, mourning a present that will never be. Most men would dismiss what they saw. It takes true strength to learn from those shadows, to study who you might have been, and make a change in yourself."

Xanas's eyes gazed into the darkness around them. "Most people are mere slaves to the circumstances. They drift along as ash on the wind, like spren drawn to someone else's flame. They claim to have free will, of course, but they never seem to act out of what is entirely expected. They live and they die, and history buries them as it does any other forgotten detritus. It's those of us who are unusual who really choose to be something. They are the ones who control their own fate.

"It's like the old story of the Survivor of Hathsin, a man who would not be caged. A thief condemned to die, he fought his way to freedom. Where others feared to draw the ire of the Steel Inquisitors, he taunted and slew them. While others fought the tyranny of their God in whispers, he shouted. And where other men died to slay a koloss, he, dying, birthed revolution. And even in death, he refused to bow. He forged the irons that became the Scadrial of today, and scarce are those who do not know the name of Kelsier, Survivor of Death.

"All men are surrounded by death. All men are weak, someway. All men come to the same ends. And when all is done, death and weakness and those ends consume them. You can fight and kick and scream, but they will come. But for those who choose their own path, well, they are the ones who find life amidst all the deaths, who uncover strength from within their weaknesses, who reach their destination and start on a new journey. That is what these Alleys, this world represent. They are a monument to sheer stubbornness, a refusal to bow to the paths which even nature itself has laid out for us. What is that old rhyme again? 'I saw two paths in a yellow wood' and all that. The only path worth walking is the path you forge yourself. But you can't walk a new path if you don't know the one you're on." Xanas looked back at Mike. "And sometimes, seeing that path takes a little help. So, Mike, indulge an old man's curiosity for just a minute. What pathways did you see in those shadows? What journey do you choose to be on?"

Xanas smiled. I haven't told a story like that in a very long time. Not since I was a young Rosharan worldsinger, I think.

@Sorana

[+Sorana]

What journey did he choose to be on. Mike sighed and got up, removed the little instruments from his skin and placed them on a table. He moved slowly, as if in a dream, wondered what he was supposed to reply. His path, his journey. A hand moved through his hair, when he tried to come up with something good, something worth the praise.

"I chose nothing." He said bitterly, shook his head, recalling the images he had seen. "I have a hard time following orders, I am eaten up alive by the wish for revenge." Turning around he stared into Xanas' eyes for the first time. "I am not worthy to be compared to Kelsier or some other hero, because I'm not a hero. I'm unable to support those I love, I allow those dear to me die."

Taking a step forward his voice started to shake from anger, anger at himself, anger at everything. "Only because for once I know what I'm doing -" a laugh escaped his lips, "that won't be like that for long. My life will go on and I will fall back into who I was, I will loose control again. They are a part of myself, but they are still here, and I doubt they will vanish. I still have no idea what to do, how to do it and nothing I do can change that."

His eyes burnt with frustration. "I didn't choose a bright, heroic path to embarc upon, I'm just a leaf drifting around, propelled by  dark thoughts and desires, by nothing but revenge and fury keeping me flying." He fell silent and frowned, finally sorting through everything that had happened. He had disobeyed direct orders. He had abandoned an official task. He hadn't followed Wes.

"I saw myself. Happy, living a peaceful life with my friends and family, without a guild to burden me." He finally started. "And I saw myself, a member of a guild, but a respected one, someone who belongs." His voice was quiet at these last words. "There is no way for me to any of these two versions of myself. I thorougly burnt those bridges already."

@18th Shard

[Zennix]

I'm very happy to see that The Dark Alley is still going strong. 

It's been a long time.

[18th Shard]

On 2/5/2020 at 0:11 AM, Sorana said:

What journey did he choose to be on. Mike sighed and got up, removed the little instruments from his skin and placed them on a table. He moved slowly, as if in a dream, wondered what he was supposed to reply. His path, his journey. A hand moved through his hair, when he tried to come up with something good, something worth the praise.

"I chose nothing." He said bitterly, shook his head, recalling the images he had seen. "I have a hard time following orders, I am eaten up alive by the wish for revenge." Turning around he stared into Xanas' eyes for the first time. "I am not worthy to be compared to Kelsier or some other hero, because I'm not a hero. I'm unable to support those I love, I allow those dear to me die."

Taking a step forward his voice started to shake from anger, anger at himself, anger at everything. "Only because for once I know what I'm doing -" a laugh escaped his lips, "that won't be like that for long. My life will go on and I will fall back into who I was, I will loose control again. They are a part of myself, but they are still here, and I doubt they will vanish. I still have no idea what to do, how to do it and nothing I do can change that."

His eyes burnt with frustration. "I didn't choose a bright, heroic path to embarc upon, I'm just a leaf drifting around, propelled by  dark thoughts and desires, by nothing but revenge and fury keeping me flying." He fell silent and frowned, finally sorting through everything that had happened. He had disobeyed direct orders. He had abandoned an official task. He hadn't followed Wes.

"I saw myself. Happy, living a peaceful life with my friends and family, without a guild to burden me." He finally started. "And I saw myself, a member of a guild, but a respected one, someone who belongs." His voice was quiet at these last words. "There is no way for me to any of these two versions of myself. I thorougly burnt those bridges already."

@18th Shard

Xanas watched as Mike vented. He waited patiently until Mike stopped talking, then said, "Do you know Kelsier's last words? 'I am the one thing you can never kill, Lord Tyrant. I am hope.'"

Xanas paused for a moment before continuing. "You saw two shadows of presents that can never be. That's normal. No one ever sees a possible path they can become. That's not what I mean by choosing a path. I don't mean choosing to be a hero. Look at me, for goodness' sake. Do you know what I saw when I burned gold the last time? I saw dozens of me. I saw a young man, still weaving stories in a small town, content but naive. I saw the conqueror, a man with a few spikes who decided to return home and take power. I saw the surgeon and the scholar. I saw the assassin and the hero. I saw the god who ruled with benevolent tyranny. And I saw the monster I always knew I could become, the one who killed for enjoyment, vicious and biting and cold. I am not any of those men. But in a way, they are all me. I'm no hero, Mike. I don't even know if I can count as a good man. But at least I try to make to the world a better place, a more knowledgeable place. That is what I want to be, and that is what I have become. And here in these Alleys, I have found the power to make that wanting real.

"So, Mike, what do you want to be? You're back in these Alleys, the ones that in many ways changed you from the men you saw into the man you are. These Alleys have the power to take you from who you are today to who you want to be tomorrow. You want to be naive again? We can do that. We can remove those spikes, wipe your mind, and send you back to live a quiet, small life, until you die. You want to be in a guild, to be an agent of someone else's will? We know people who would take you. You wish to rule? I know cities who would bow before someone with your power. You desire to be a warrior? We can train you. You desire knowledge? You have come to the right place. Whatever you desire to become, we can make you into it, but it has to be your choice, to make it mean anything. What do you want to be?

"You have arrived at a crossroads today, Mike. Any path you take will leave another gold shadow in your past. What path do you want to see by burning gold, and which one do you want to see in the mirror?"

@Sorana

Edited February 7, 2020 by 18th Shard
tag

[+Sorana]

Falling silent, Mike stared at him. A crossroads. He had arrived at a crossroads? He waited for Xanas to go on, to say something else, maybe to strap him down and laugh into his face. When none of this happened he shifted his weight uncomfortably, considered Xanas' words again. A crossroads. And it was his decision to leave. His hands moved to the spikes in his chest again, touched them nearly gently when he wondered what he might do next.

He would lie if he said that it wasn't tempting. Power, ruling, to be a hero like the ones he had seen in the movies. There would be no need to bow before the likes of Ark anymore, because he could simply pick them up and set them aside. His feet shifted a little when he tried to comprehend the borders of this offer, when his mind jerked in fear again. It was a trap. It had to be a trap. He would choose something and he would end up with more spikes. He would be part of another experiment and when he left again, maybe he never left again.

And yet - if Xanas was right, then this was a crossroads, a chance. A possibility to do something else and Mike would be stupid if he discarded it so easily. And so he nodded leaned against a wall. A chance. This could be his chance to do something, to change something. But he wasn't entirely sure how. His throughts returned to the question Xanas had asked. Who did he want to see in the mirror. And who did he want to leave behind.

"I want to be able to protect my friends." he finally said, his words quiet, so quiet that they were hard to hear. "I want to be able to support them and to give them a chance to go on." He fell silent, felt into the darkness again. It was empty. Nothing was there, apart from himself. It was nearly, as if it has never existed before. Mike finally looked up at Xanas. He doubted, that this was, what the man had wanted to hear, had wanted for him to reply. He had somehow offered him a throne and Mike had declined. But if he was honest, if this was really about who he wanted to see in the mirror then there was only one possible path. He had to make up for what he had messed up, he had to become stronger to prevent something like this happening again. He would protect Wes, and he would protect all the others. And if he paid for it with his live, he didn't care.

The resolve felt strange and good, incredibly good. It had been over a year since he last felt that much in control, that complete confidence in his own thoughts an opinions. And yet - he was still at Xanas' mercy. Nothing of this mattered if Xanas wiped it away.

@18th Shard

[+Ark1002]

Quote

Every time I see Ark, I feel like you're getting angry at me

 

[18th Shard]

On 2/7/2020 at 1:11 AM, Sorana said:

Falling silent, Mike stared at him. A crossroads. He had arrived at a crossroads? He waited for Xanas to go on, to say something else, maybe to strap him down and laugh into his face. When none of this happened he shifted his weight uncomfortably, considered Xanas' words again. A crossroads. And it was his decision to leave. His hands moved to the spikes in his chest again, touched them nearly gently when he wondered what he might do next.

He would lie if he said that it wasn't tempting. Power, ruling, to be a hero like the ones he had seen in the movies. There would be no need to bow before the likes of Ark anymore, because he could simply pick them up and set them aside. His feet shifted a little when he tried to comprehend the borders of this offer, when his mind jerked in fear again. It was a trap. It had to be a trap. He would choose something and he would end up with more spikes. He would be part of another experiment and when he left again, maybe he never left again.

And yet - if Xanas was right, then this was a crossroads, a chance. A possibility to do something else and Mike would be stupid if he discarded it so easily. And so he nodded leaned against a wall. A chance. This could be his chance to do something, to change something. But he wasn't entirely sure how. His throughts returned to the question Xanas had asked. Who did he want to see in the mirror. And who did he want to leave behind.

"I want to be able to protect my friends." he finally said, his words quiet, so quiet that they were hard to hear. "I want to be able to support them and to give them a chance to go on." He fell silent, felt into the darkness again. It was empty. Nothing was there, apart from himself. It was nearly, as if it has never existed before. Mike finally looked up at Xanas. He doubted, that this was, what the man had wanted to hear, had wanted for him to reply. He had somehow offered him a throne and Mike had declined. But if he was honest, if this was really about who he wanted to see in the mirror then there was only one possible path. He had to make up for what he had messed up, he had to become stronger to prevent something like this happening again. He would protect Wes, and he would protect all the others. And if he paid for it with his live, he didn't care.

The resolve felt strange and good, incredibly good. It had been over a year since he last felt that much in control, that complete confidence in his own thoughts an opinions. And yet - he was still at Xanas' mercy. Nothing of this mattered if Xanas wiped it away.

@18th Shard

Xanas nodded. He was a little disappointed - it was a bit short-sighted, considering friends can change and die, but then again, he was a teenager. Perhaps as he grew older, he would understand what was really important. 

"I can help with that. I suppose the first matter would be to find them. Wes, you said? Where would you want to meet him, and how would I tell him to meet you there?"

@Sorana

 

[Voidus]

Voidus gently removed the notebook from Vivica's grip as she held it out, feeling a strange sense of familiar calm as he took hold of it and Vivica's trembling hand let go. He nodded along as she spoke, letting her finish her explanations without interruption. She seemed to calm a little as she explained what she could, staring off into some scene that only she could currently see or understand.

"I am Vivica." She said quietly, not seeming aware that she was still speaking. "I am twenty-eight. I am in- Alley 681-T. Current count is 113 apparitions. Research and Development. It has been eleven years, six months and eighteen days since I last slept."

She seemed to come to again after speaking this mantra, or perhaps she was simply answering the questions posed by some other hallucinatory companion. Voidus briefly wondered whether he should simply pretend to see them as well, but discounted that course. He was being selfish enough in not disclosing who he was, making a mockery of her mind would not benefit either of them.

"The list is important." Vivica said, more firmly as Voidus removed the noepad from her grasp.

He gave another nod, holding her eyes and giving her another moment if she needed to continue. But as the silence stretched for a few more moments it seemed that she was waiting for something.

"They are indeed." He said gently, his own gaze drifting towards the distance for a moment. "Remember the list."

I am Voidus. And I promised to find my daughter again.

Shorter than Vivica's list, but perhaps there'd once been more on Voidus' list as well, things that he'd forgotten over an endless age floating in nothing. Unsure whether he found the thought reassuring or terrifying, Voidus shook his head to clear it, and without pausing to hesitate any longer he pulled the spike from a pocket and pierced his bindpoint with it once more.

Instantly the lingering scent of smoke filled his nostrils, not something that was always unusual in the Alleys nor anything that Voidus would generally be concerned about but suddenly it seemed terrifying. Some looming horror barely held at bay. Nox felt himself tense as he was slammed with a torrent of raw terror, even as it was subsiding it still felt ready to consume him. His eyes found Bennington floating reassuringly overhead, watching over both he and Vivica.

"It's good to see you again Bennington." Nox greeted, giving Bennington a nod of the head before looking towards Vivica and amending himself. "To see you both. It's fading now isn't it? It's safe to talk for now."

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Vivica nodded at Nox, pleased that he seemed to finally understand her earlier panic. 

"It's safe for now," she whispered, pointing to her notes again. There was something important in them, though she couldn't quite recall what it was. "But we should move on soon. It's out there, you know. The fire. It's always out there, somewhere."

Nox seemed more agitated, more nervous than before. Vivica looked at the place where he had placed his spike, and cocked her head a bit. She considered asking about it, but she didn't want to frighten Nox away. Sometimes her friends would disappear if she asked them too many questions. 

"Is there someplace safe you know about, somewhere we could go? We should keep moving. If we stay here, it will find us. We need to stay ahead of the smoke."

She held out a hand for him, and Bennington looped around them both, his color shifting toward a slightly-lighter indigo. That was a good sign, and Vivica allowed herself a small smile. "It's lucky we found you again - wouldn't do to have you burned to a crisp, now would it?"

@Voidus

[+Sorana]

9 hours ago, 18th Shard said:

Xanas nodded. He was a little disappointed - it was a bit short-sighted, considering friends can change and die, but then again, he was a teenager. Perhaps as he grew older, he would understand what was really important. 

"I can help with that. I suppose the first matter would be to find them. Wes, you said? Where would you want to meet him, and how would I tell him to meet you there?"

@Sorana

 

Mike frowned, wondered why Xanas knew about Wes, and then just shook his head. He knew, Maybe Snake had spilled some details. He reached into his pocket and held up his device. "I could send him a message." He offered, unsure what to do now. He wasn't quite sure how meeting Wes would help him protect him, apart from the fact that being close to Wes was always a plus. But if Xanas wanted to meet Wes, it meant he wanted to have Mike leave and if Mike was allowed to leave - a slight smile spread on his face. He wasn't stuck here. He could leave whenever he wanted. The thought soothed him and he lowered the device again, suspected that it wouldn't work inside of the alleys anyway. Instead he studied Xanas for a while, tried to remember their conversation so far. It was blurred, his memories had holes when he had lost control completely and he wasn't sure if he remembered correctly. In the end - he owed Xanas, and while the thought left a salty taste in his mouth he forced himself to smile. Without him, he would be lost already.

"When you approached me," he finally started, "I wasn't on the height of things, but - do you need more information about this place as it is today? I could give your a tour or something."

@18th Shard

[Voidus]

Nox gave Vivica a tense smile, taking her outstretched hand as Bennington wrapped around them. He could still hear the flames, distant but approaching. Always approaching. He still remembered what he had known moments ago, that there was no fire. But at the same time he was also acutely aware that it was there now and had been there then. Being thrown into Vivica's perception of the world with little context was proving a little disorienting.

"A few safe places." Nox replied. "But the nearest..."

Holding onto Vivica's hand he began moving forwards, along the path she'd already laid out through the Alleys. They stepped together into one of R&D's Alleys, the walls stained with countless centuries of blood, the layered sanguine scents briefly dispelled the stench of smoke and each of the steel doors placed haphazardly along the path would lead to a different research area. But none of those were what he was looking for, he needed another Alley, not too far from here, just a little twist.

"What happened?" He asked. "You mentioned Grey, are they..."

He was briefly overwhelmed by a vision of the denizen being engulfed by roaring flames before he managed to rid himself of the thought.

"Did they get out?"
@ZincAboutIt