Tamriel Wolfsbaine Posted June 17, 2024 Posted June 17, 2024 7 minutes ago, RoyalBeeMage said: Eleos, The Mistwarrens, 0334 Tin Street. Eleos tried to calm down as he checked and checked again that all of his gemstones were full. His earring? Full his cufflinks? Full his buttons? Full his large purses filled with several dozen broams, marks and chips of all types? All but his emerald broam were full. Eleos spent several minutes quickly searching for his plate spren before remembering that he didn’t have any. taking a deep breath Eleos knocked on the door Quote Totally understand. I saw Koloss had posted and know you both had a scene to worth through. I just wanted to get Tomvi into a position to have some scenes. Whenever time and the story may allow.
Koloss17 She/They Posted June 18, 2024 Author Posted June 18, 2024 1 hour ago, RoyalBeeMage said: Eleos, The Mistwarrens, 0334 Tin Street. Eleos tried to calm down as he checked and checked again that all of his gemstones were full. His earring? Full his cufflinks? Full his buttons? Full his large purses filled with several dozen broams, marks and chips of all types? All but his emerald broam were full. Eleos spent several minutes quickly searching for his plate spren before remembering that he didn’t have any. taking a deep breath Eleos knocked on the door Perses was expecting visitors, so of course he had left the door open a crack. With a brief pull, the door slowly swung open. He made sure to stay out of eyesight from the door, forcing the man to enter the room. ”Come in, come in. We have much to discuss.” Perses admitted the room was not in the best of shape. There were seats strewn about the place, with fallen papers in various places, some stained with patches of blood. He had tried to remove any obvious blood stains, but had accepted that the room will smell faintly of death. It was, in all honestly, not a particularly nice place to be. However, it beat his actual apartment as a meeting place. “I apologize for the mess. There was only so much I could do given the notice.” Perses didn’t like sitting. It felt…restrictive. Instead, he stood behind the main desk, with most of the items that used to be on it still strewn on the floor. He didn’t want to fight if possible, but if it was necessary, a clear desk was better. “And please, close the door on your way in.”
Stormlightsong Posted June 18, 2024 Posted June 18, 2024 4 minutes ago, Koloss17 said: Perses was expecting visitors, so of course he had left the door open a crack. With a brief pull, the door slowly swung open. He made sure to stay out of eyesight from the door, forcing the man to enter the room. ”Come in, come in. We have much to discuss.” Perses admitted the room was not in the best of shape. There were seats strewn about the place, with fallen papers in various places, some stained with patches of blood. He had tried to remove any obvious blood stains, but had accepted that the room will smell faintly of death. It was, in all honestly, not a particularly nice place to be. However, it beat his actual apartment as a meeting place. “I apologize for the mess. There was only so much I could do given the notice.” Perses didn’t like sitting. It felt…restrictive. Instead, he stood behind the main desk, with most of the items that used to be on it still strewn on the floor. He didn’t want to fight if possible, but if it was necessary, a clear desk was better. “And please, close the door on your way in.” After some serching, Keshi found his target. He deliberately set himself on a roof one building over as to avoid detection. There was a broken window on the wall facing Keshi that allowed him to see the inquisitor. There also seemed to be another person coming up one the building. Thankfully , Keshi was equipped with a listening device that could pick up sound from up to 200 feet away. Grabbing it out of his pocket he switched it on and took out a notebook. @RoyalBeeMage
TheFrugalWizard he/him Posted June 18, 2024 Posted June 18, 2024 (edited) On 6/16/2024 at 6:49 PM, Stormlightsong said: Asylum didn’t need to turn around to know who the copper had just noticed. This is fine, they thought, Eza can run fast enough… and he can fly. Asylum started to panic. I am not panicking, why would I panic, this is what she signed up for, she is not my responsibility, she’s just a travel companion who helps me get funds, and keeps me company, and trusts me. Asylum cursed under their breath. With one hand they picked up a dart. As they threw they looked towards Eza as she ran away. There was a thunk as dart hit wood. There was no pop. ________________________________________ Keshi, The Corridor, The Silver Dagger After a few days of hard work Keshi finished his upgrades. First there was a new suit of armor for Goto. It was made from aluminum alloy with some spots to attach tools (which he had also coated in aluminum). It had six rotatable turrets, three on each side, the four in the corners were fitted with miniature light lances for maneuverability, and the two in the middle were destructors. The two destructors didn’t nearly have enough power to do any real damage, but they could stun someone for a bit. For himself, Keshi crafted a suit of ceremonial armor. It was made from the red and gold silk of Goto’s previous armor and filled with thin sheets of aluminum for structure. At his side, he had a four inch aluminum katana with a laser enhanced edge. Satisfied with his new gear, Keshi when off to find the inquisitor. @Koloss17 For a split second, time froze. Frisian was torn between his duty as a lawman, to find Asylum's accomplice and bring her in. At the same time, Asulym was also a criminal. And apprehending them would move him up the political ladder. He made his decision. Time restarted. Asylum was pale, glancing toward where Talamar had motioned to. The crowd had gasped at seeing Asylum's dart miss the balloon. Confidently, Frisian didn't so much as glance at the accomplice. Asylum was staring at the place where Talamar had just been. Frisian grabbed the scruff of her shirt and lashed her upwards with him, into the sky. * * * He threw Asylum to the ground at the police station. "I demand a job at the station," he said. "And I don't intend to wait." @Koloss17 Quote I'd just like to quickly apologize. I am just super busy, I don't have time to read everyone's posts, especially when they don't have much to do with my character. In addition, I haven't been able to be super active. I'm sure you all understand. I love being part of this community, I just can't dediacte hours every day to the Shard. Edited June 18, 2024 by TheFrugalWizard 1
Lunamor she/her Posted June 18, 2024 Posted June 18, 2024 1 hour ago, TheFrugalWizard said: For a split second, time froze. Frisian was torn between his duty as a lawman, to find Asylum's accomplice and bring her in. At the same time, Asulym was also a criminal. And apprehending them would move him up the political ladder. He made his decision. Time restarted. Asylum was pale, glancing toward where Talamar had motioned to. The crowd had gasped at seeing Asylum's dart miss the balloon. Confidently, Frisian didn't so much as glance at the accomplice. Asylum was staring at the place where Talamar had just been. Frisian grabbed the scruff of her shirt and lashed her upwards with him, into the sky. * * * He threw Asylum to the ground at the police station. "I demand a job at the station," he said. "And I don't intend to wait." @Koloss17 A dark shape flew overhead. A raven. Eza ignored it in her panic for a moment before realizing what the figure actually was. Lum. The man had taken Lum. It’d happened again. She was too weak to save them, just fleeing like the coward she was. Useless, only getting in the way. She slowly stumbled to a halt, watching them fly away and slowly grow smaller until they were obscured by buildings. She couldn’t do anything to stop it. Even though she was stronger now, it didn’t matter. Eza went from borderline hyperventilating to numb. They were gone. No, not gone. Arrested. It was different. The glowing man wasn’t going to kill Lum, right? But she didn’t know that for sure; the punishments here might be harsher. Lum said that they were really strong, but the man had been able to take him away easily. She had to fix this. She wouldn’t abandon like she had before. She suddenly remembered where she was, feeling the hundreds of pairs of eyes all focused on her. There was that tiny floating blue person still hanging there, as well. She wasn’t sure if it had been sincere when saying it was trying to save her, but it couldn’t hurt to be polite. “Thanks for offering to help!” She wasn’t about to stick around long enough for it to realize that she was also a criminal. Her newly forming plan was very illegal, too. So, she started running again, her breathing ragged, and finally entered the narrow streets once more. Burning her iron, she was comforted by the thick blue lines sprawling in every direction. She wasn’t powerless here. Eza put up her hood and dropped her koloss plushie next to a child sitting on the sidewalk, then ironpulled herself down the street with purpose. This time, she still had a chance to save them. Quote Relevant backstory for this will be posted in the Eza's Origins topic sometime soon (currently the first of three sections for it is there as the second post), it's too long to fit into one post here. It's not necessary to read to understand her Era 7 posts and just provides some context. @Stormlightsong @Scars of Hathsin
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted June 18, 2024 Posted June 18, 2024 Arranis & Astra, Mistwarrens Arranis arrives out of breath, where Astra was waiting, she giggles You really are unfit aren't you . He glances at her, a stern look sitting there, "Yes, I am however in my defense, there is not much places to run in a busy city" he walks along, "Did you follow her?" Yes, but she got away, "How did she get away from you?" Arranis says, his voice turning smug. You try and keep track of a small human in a city full of them, then add on the fact that they want to blend in and hide, you storming human She roars at him through the mental connection, her form growing bigger as she did so. "Chill out" he says glancing at her, "plus, I think I know where she may go" he adds continuing to stroll along causally down the street.
Koloss17 She/They Posted June 18, 2024 Author Posted June 18, 2024 18 hours ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve, The Cauldron, Constellation "It..." Eighth hesitated. How did one explain? He reached for the waterskin and opened it. The quicksilver within seemed to capture what little light there was and magnify it. Smoother than water, it rippled and swirled, like a mirror, melted down. "I know not what it is. But the glove...controls the metal. With it, the quicksilver almost takes life of its own. The metal flows where one wants, into whatever shape one desires. Stronger than steel, faster than fire, more lithe than liquid. It dances through the air, like smoke gone solid, to the violet vibrance of the wielder." Eighth of the Eve clamped his mouth shut. Father, he thought. It's getting worse. I'm getting worse. "It has been three lunar cycles since it last did so. The glove's glow dimmed, and eventually was gone. And with it, the power." He fell silent. Seiju, it appeared, was sidling towards the shopkeeper again. I know, my friend, he thought, reaching to scratch her neck. You trust them. As do I. @Koloss17 Plutus had never heard of such a device. How fascinating! He had to hide his giddiness. “Well, should I be given time to examine and analyze the device and diagnose the issue-“ She sensed the trapper’s apprehension at this idea. “I assure you, nothing will befall the device in my care. I will not pawn it off while you are away. Should you return the next morning, the device will be fixed.” Plutus was not a mechanic, and was not exactly best suited for such a job. In fact, it was something he rarely ever did. However, they always liked a good puzzle. The biggest reason they chose this job and this area of the city was to learn about the vast cultures and items that the many societies that trickled into the Alleyverse had to offer. And if given the opportunity, she would never turn down an opportunity to learn something new. ”that will be twenty Chrysts for the items and the repair.” This was a fraction of what these items and this service was worth. However, just interacting with this human paid for much of it. It was the people, not the money, that held value to Plutus.
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 18, 2024 Posted June 18, 2024 (edited) 13 hours ago, Koloss17 said: Plutus had never heard of such a device. How fascinating! He had to hide his giddiness. “Well, should I be given time to examine and analyze the device and diagnose the issue-“ She sensed the trapper’s apprehension at this idea. “I assure you, nothing will befall the device in my care. I will not pawn it off while you are away. Should you return the next morning, the device will be fixed.” Eighth of the Eve fought to maintain an air of calm. It wasn't like the device belonged to him in the first place. Yet, as with all he collected on his Travels, he felt connected to them. They were proof of his pain. He had earned them. He should not have. He had never wanted to. But so it was. 13 hours ago, Koloss17 said: Plutus was not a mechanic, and was not exactly best suited for such a job. In fact, it was something he rarely ever did. However, they always liked a good puzzle. The biggest reason they chose this job and this area of the city was to learn about the vast cultures and items that the many societies that trickled into the Alleyverse had to offer. And if given the opportunity, she would never turn down an opportunity to learn something new. ”that will be twenty Chrysts for the items and the repair.” This was a fraction of what these items and this service was worth. However, just interacting with this human paid for much of it. It was the people, not the money, that held value to Plutus Ah yes. This world had thought of "money." Of course, so had many others. Eighth did not bother with meaningless bits of metal. Only that which was useful or valuable stayed with him. Of that, he had some remaining... Within his coat, a sunheart burned fiercely. Not that he could feel the heat. It was contained perfectly within. His hand paused over the heart, then continued further. This shopkeeper had been cordial - pleasant, even. And Seiju liked them. They deserved something more. He had kept it...there. Right next to his sparkflicker. He pulled out a strange jeweled bracelet. Ten oddly colored gemstones were affixed to the surface in a unique pattern. More than a few were cracked, which was how he had initially acquired it. This shop, however, had a great many in store, of all shapes and sizes. It should not prove an issue. The remaining gemstones had shone brightly not five lunar cycles ago. Then the light had vanished, just like that. He would have kept it, attempted to uncover its secrets, but for one thing. It appeared to have been constructed for a woman's hand. His own arm, lean though it was, could not accept the artifact. It appeared as though the shopkeeper's could, however. And she was likely to know its function. He judged it equivalent to the kindness she had done this day. Eighth of the Eve deliberately set down the bracelet. Then he met the shopkeeper's eyes. "Would this suffice?" Quote This is what Eighth found. For the sake of argument, I am presuming that his Smedry Talent has preserved the spren, similarly to Alleys and Nahel bonds. Thus, so long as the fabrial receives light, it should work. @Koloss17 Edited June 19, 2024 by Longshot97
RoyalBeeMage he/him Posted June 19, 2024 Posted June 19, 2024 On 6/18/2024 at 9:17 AM, Koloss17 said: Perses was expecting visitors, so of course he had left the door open a crack. With a brief pull, the door slowly swung open. He made sure to stay out of eyesight from the door, forcing the man to enter the room. ”Come in, come in. We have much to discuss.” Perses admitted the room was not in the best of shape. There were seats strewn about the place, with fallen papers in various places, some stained with patches of blood. He had tried to remove any obvious blood stains, but had accepted that the room will smell faintly of death. It was, in all honestly, not a particularly nice place to be. However, it beat his actual apartment as a meeting place. “I apologize for the mess. There was only so much I could do given the notice.” Perses didn’t like sitting. It felt…restrictive. Instead, he stood behind the main desk, with most of the items that used to be on it still strewn on the floor. He didn’t want to fight if possible, but if it was necessary, a clear desk was better. “And please, close the door on your way in.” Eleos walked through the door, his senses immediately assaulted by the faint metallic tang of blood and the musty scent of neglected papers. He noted the disarray but showed no visible reaction, understanding the need for diplomacy in such settings. As requested, he closed the door behind him, the click echoing in the otherwise silent room. "what in the name of the stormfather has happened here?" eleos asked while granite when snooping around the building looking for anyone or anything that might be a danger to himself. he found someone ontop of a building and became visible them. @Koloss17 @Stormlightsong Quote keshi should be able to see eleos's orange spren...
Koloss17 She/They Posted June 19, 2024 Author Posted June 19, 2024 On 6/18/2024 at 11:30 AM, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve fought to maintain an air of calm. It wasn't like the device belonged to him in the first place. Yet, as with all he collected on his Travels, he felt connected to them. They were proof of his pain. He had earned them. He should not have. He had never wanted to. But so it was. Ah yes. This world had thought of "money." Of course, so had many others. Eighth did not bother with meaningless bits of metal. Only that which was useful or valuable stayed with him. Of that, he had some remaining... Within his coat, a sunheart burned fiercely. Not that he could feel the heat. It was contained perfectly within. His hand paused over the heart, then continued further. This shopkeeper had been cordial - pleasant, even. And Seiju liked them. They deserved something more. He had kept it...there. Right next to his sparkflicker. He pulled out a strange jeweled bracelet. Ten oddly colored gemstones were affixed to the surface in a unique pattern. More than a few were cracked, which was how he had initially acquired it. This shop, however, had a great many in store, of all shapes and sizes. It should not prove an issue. The remaining gemstones had shone brightly not five lunar cycles ago. Then the light had vanished, just like that. He would have kept it, attempted to uncover its secrets, but for one thing. It appeared to have been constructed for a woman's hand. His own arm, lean though it was, could not accept the artifact. It appeared as though the shopkeeper's could, however. And she was likely to know its function. He judged it equivalent to the kindness she had done this day. Eighth of the Eve deliberately set down the bracelet. Then he met the shopkeeper's eyes. "Would this suffice?" @Koloss17 How…interesting. Generally, Plutus appreciated actual money for their wares. However, once more, this was a special case. “Thank you, this should suffice.” He gave a brief bow to the trapper as she accepted the fabrial. “Thank you for shopping at Constellation, and may you come again.” She gave a brief wink to the human, making fun of the fact that they knew that the trapper would return for their device. A faint chime sounded as another customer entered. Perhaps this day was not cursed after all. ——————————————- Perses, The Mistwarrens, 0334 Tin Street. 13 hours ago, RoyalBeeMage said: Eleos walked through the door, his senses immediately assaulted by the faint metallic tang of blood and the musty scent of neglected papers. He noted the disarray but showed no visible reaction, understanding the need for diplomacy in such settings. As requested, he closed the door behind him, the click echoing in the otherwise silent room. "what in the name of the stormfather has happened here?" eleos asked while granite when snooping around the building looking for anyone or anything that might be a danger to himself. he found someone ontop of a building and became visible them. @Koloss17 @Stormlightsong Perses, from the corner of the room, began to walk towards the man, abandoning his lean against the wall. “This was once the office of a crime lord that plagued the warrens. I happened here.” Perses stood facing the radiant, standing a few inches shorter than him, but close enough to let him see the scarring around Perses’ spikes. “But relax, I mean you no harm.” He paused. “Well, harming you is not what I plan to do this evening.” ”Ah, but where are my manners? Please, feel free to take a seat.” He walked over to an overturned chair, which seemed intact enough. He put it upright, facing it towards the office desk, and walked back behind it.
RoyalBeeMage he/him Posted June 19, 2024 Posted June 19, 2024 4 hours ago, Koloss17 said: How…interesting. Generally, Plutus appreciated actual money for their wares. However, once more, this was a special case. “Thank you, this should suffice.” He gave a brief bow to the trapper as she accepted the fabrial. “Thank you for shopping at Constellation, and may you come again.” She gave a brief wink to the human, making fun of the fact that they knew that the trapper would return for their device. A faint chime sounded as another customer entered. Perhaps this day was not cursed after all. ——————————————- Perses, The Mistwarrens, 0334 Tin Street. Perses, from the corner of the room, began to walk towards the man, abandoning his lean against the wall. “This was once the office of a crime lord that plagued the warrens. I happened here.” Perses stood facing the radiant, standing a few inches shorter than him, but close enough to let him see the scarring around Perses’ spikes. “But relax, I mean you no harm.” He paused. “Well, harming you is not what I plan to do this evening.” ”Ah, but where are my manners? Please, feel free to take a seat.” He walked over to an overturned chair, which seemed intact enough. He put it upright, facing it towards the office desk, and walked back behind it. “And what gives you the right to happen here?” eleos poked the chair with his foot and watches as the whole thing falls apart. “I’m good thanks.” Eleos drew in some stormlight to go and fix the chair before putting it back upright. “There we go.” He said before sitting down
Koloss17 She/They Posted June 19, 2024 Author Posted June 19, 2024 20 minutes ago, RoyalBeeMage said: “And what gives you the right to happen here?” eleos poked the chair with his foot and watches as the whole thing falls apart. “I’m good thanks.” Eleos drew in some stormlight to go and fix the chair before putting it back upright. “There we go.” He said before sitting down Perses smiled. “Why, I’m Perses, Prince of the Alleys. The Mistwarrens are mine, and frankly, the Tin Street Mafia were overstaying their welcome. I’ve been working for the past few months to topple their empire here, and I’ve finally succeeded. I don’t think anyone will be missing them, anyways.” ”Speaking of,” Perses said, pacing behind the desk, “This is why I wanted you here.” He stopped. “See, your little refugee camp, while commendable, is on my turf. I find it frankly quite irritating that organizations like yours encroach onto Warrens space to avoid having to be on a specific district’s jurisdiction. And inevitably, given your radiant ways, I don’t think you folks can just offer shelter to those in need. Sooner or later, you’ll become a problem for me, and I would find that quite inconvenient.” ”So I want to make a deal. You scooch your operation a few blocks back, past the Sphere district border, and none of the refugees get hurt.” It felt useless threatening him or the other radiants, as getting injured was kind of their whole purpose in life. However, the weak and helpless people they are protecting? That might make for a compelling threat. Perses extended his hand towards the radiant. “Do we have a deal?”
RoyalBeeMage he/him Posted June 19, 2024 Posted June 19, 2024 (edited) On 6/20/2024 at 7:13 AM, Koloss17 said: Perses smiled. “Why, I’m Perses, Prince of the Alleys. The Mistwarrens are mine, and frankly, the Tin Street Mafia were overstaying their welcome. I’ve been working for the past few months to topple their empire here, and I’ve finally succeeded. I don’t think anyone will be missing them, anyways.” ”Speaking of,” Perses said, pacing behind the desk, “This is why I wanted you here.” He stopped. “See, your little refugee camp, while commendable, is on my turf. I find it frankly quite irritating that organizations like yours encroach onto Warrens space to avoid having to be on a specific district’s jurisdiction. And inevitably, given your radiant ways, I don’t think you folks can just offer shelter to those in need. Sooner or later, you’ll become a problem for me, and I would find that quite inconvenient.” ”So I want to make a deal. You scooch your operation a few blocks back, past the Sphere district border, and none of the refugees get hurt.” It felt useless threatening him or the other radiants, as getting injured was kind of their whole purpose in life. However, the weak and helpless people they are protecting? That might make for a compelling threat. Perses extended his hand towards the radiant. “Do we have a deal?” “Perses?” Eleos said looking at him with confusion “I thought that you were just a rumour. a story the commoners made up to scare their children.” He took a step back. “What would happen if we refused to move? What if we wanted to work together?” eleos said with a smile as he held out his hand for a hand shake. Quote does that work better. @Koloss17 Edited June 22, 2024 by RoyalBeeMage
Koloss17 She/They Posted June 20, 2024 Author Posted June 20, 2024 On 6/17/2024 at 10:09 PM, TheFrugalWizard said: He threw Asylum to the ground at the police station. "I demand a job at the station," he said. "And I don't intend to wait." @Koloss17 Phemus froze, mid-sip. It took the man a solid ten seconds to process what he was witnessing with his own eyes. Asylum, the rascal that had eluded the entire precinct for years was taken in by a new-blooded radiant? Impossible. Phemus set his mug of coffee down. ”you’re hired.”
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 20, 2024 Posted June 20, 2024 (edited) 8 hours ago, Koloss17 said: How…interesting. Generally, Plutus appreciated actual money for their wares. However, once more, this was a special case. “Thank you, this should suffice.” He gave a brief bow to the trapper as she accepted the fabrial. “Thank you for shopping at Constellation, and may you come again.” She gave a brief wink to the human, making fun of the fact that they knew that the trapper would return for their device. A faint chime sounded as another customer entered. Perhaps this day was not cursed after all. Eighth of the Eve, The Cauldron, Constellation Eighth of the Eve nearly smiled. He caught himself just in time. He could feel his fondness for the shopkeeper, the reputation he was building for her. She was too open, too honest, too curious. She would have questions. And he would find himself back here, again and again. His face a study of solemnity, he nodded courteously to the shopkeeper. Beneath his hand, Seiju shifted uneasily. This is why I am here, he thought. I believe, Father. I swear I do. One can believe yet make mistakes, can they not? The shopkeeper's face shifted from levity to a lost expression. Eighth felt a pang of remorse for her confusion. Then he berated himself for that. Fool, he thought. Keep your distance. Speak only when necessary. Solitude. Solemnity. Sanctity. Silence. Self-control. This is your life. A chime sounded from behind him. Eighth moved swiftly. He re-sheathed his machete, donned the lightline, and strapped on his blowpipes. He took a moment to slide one of his newfound darts into the weapon as Seiju hopped to his arm. He knew what needed be done. The shopkeeper would awaken tomorrow, only to find the now-functional quicksilver gone. In its place, all he would find was a stone, glowing with the light of a thousand suns, and a note to reassure him. Eighth would have his artifact. And the shopkeeper would be properly compensated. Eighth turned, knee-length coat swinging about him. On his arm, Seiju whined in distress. He lifted a hand to soothe her, and got a bite for his troubles. He sighed, brushing past the newcomer. He opened the door, and the Aviar flew out ahead of him. Eighth of the Eve walked down the street. Hands in his pockets, head down. Surrounded on all sides by people, yet still so alone. Quote Thus concludes Eighth's shopping arc. I think this served well as a comprehensive overview of his character. So long as @Koloss17 agrees, from here on out, all Merits are fully functional. Further integration into the Alleyverse canon is contingent on collaboration with other players. Thank you @Koloss17 for the RP experience. It was good fun. It feels slightly odd to end on such a low note, but this felt the closest to the character of Eighth of the Eve. Edited June 20, 2024 by Longshot97
Lunamor she/her Posted June 20, 2024 Posted June 20, 2024 (edited) After asking around, sacrificing some of her least shiny coins in the process, Eza quickly found the location of the Smokestack constabulary building. She figured that was probably where you would take someone who you’d arrested. The idea of being near it wasn't particularly pleasant- it was the exact type of place she tried to avoid- but she had no other options. She scaled a building barely within eyeshot of the constabulary without assistance from ironpulling; she didn't want to frivolously use her metal supply now that it was getting rather low. Then, Eza burnt iron and surveyed her options. The office was flanked by two buildings. A bakery and a smithy. The smithy had a thick line leading to its roof, visible even this far away. Squinting, she saw that it was connected to a thick metal chimney billowing a steady stream of smoke. The neighbors probably didn't appreciate that very much. Eza, however, great appreciated it. Heavy metallic objects such as that allowed her to use ironpulling in the most effective way. She hopped back down into the street, her hood up as always, and widely circled around to the side of the smithy not visible from the constabulary building. She quietly made her way to the roof and stood behind the chimney, carefully peering out to ensure that the constabulary didn't have a window with a view of the smithy's roof. That didn't seem to be the case, so she carefully crept to the edge. Then, she jumped as far forwards as she could to the constabulary's building's top. In that moment while she began to descend through the air, she ironpulled on the metal chimney behind her. Since it was towards the top of the smithy's sloped roof, it was higher up than her. This meant that her momentum was rapidly decreased to the point where, when her feet made contact with the roof, it was completely silent. She then kept her iron burning for a second more, noting where lines entered the building. One section was conspicuously devoid of blue lines. That was probably where the jail cells were. Letting criminal allomancers near metal things was a bad idea, and the Scadrian Smokestack district probably had lots of them. She carefully walked over to the area without lines, ensuring that her footsteps were soft enough to make no noise. Eza kept low, trying to make herself as difficult to see as possible. She then proceeded to wait for the yelling to start. Lum was the sort of person who would almost certainly try to escape. At the very least, they'd cause chaos. If it got late enough, however, she'd try to do a more thorough inspection of the building. The risk of being seen would be smaller when it was dark and most people were in their homes. Quote Eza would probably arrive some time after the current conversation since she's slower than a flying radiant, I just wanted to make sure I'd posted her arriving before stuff starts going down. Also, all of Eza's currently relevant backstory has been posted in the Eza's Origins topic (posts 2-4). @Scars of Hathsin @Stormlightsong @Koloss17 @TheFrugalWizard Edited June 20, 2024 by Lunamor
Stormlightsong Posted June 20, 2024 Posted June 20, 2024 (edited) Asylum, Smokestack, Smokestack Constabulary. Asylum sat in their cell. It was an okay cell, they’d been in worse. It was quiet, and Asylum started thinking, that was never good. What brought me to this point, Asylum thought, reflecting on their past. Did I cause my misfortune, or was it someone else? As Asylum sat in their cell, they remembered that night, the night that changed everything. Quote The next few posts for Asylum are going to be mainly flashbacks to before Asylum came to the Alleyverse. During this time they will be staying in prison planning for their great revenge. But for all other purposes they are out of the current plot. @Lunamor @TheFrugalWizard @Scars of Hathsin @Koloss17 Edited June 20, 2024 by Stormlightsong
TheFrugalWizard he/him Posted June 20, 2024 Posted June 20, 2024 12 hours ago, Koloss17 said: Phemus froze, mid-sip. It took the man a solid ten seconds to process what he was witnessing with his own eyes. Asylum, the rascal that had eluded the entire precinct for years was taken in by a new-blooded radiant? Impossible. Phemus set his mug of coffee down. ”you’re hired.” "Good. I demand a full battalion of fifty men by tomorrow morning," Frisian announced. Without waiting for a reply, he marched off to his apartment. But, even as he flew, he experienced an overwhelming surge of emotion - remorse. He shouldn't have treated Phemus that way. He was a knight radiant, sworn to protect the people. That was what he was doing, wasn't it? * * * Later that night, Frisian lay in bed. It was late at night. Too late. He’d been up for hours, thinking. Thinking about his life, his interactions, and his oaths. “Talamar?” “Yes, Frisian?” “Do you think I’m becoming a dictator? I feel as though everything I say and do is suppressing someone. I find myself yelling at people like that poor police officer earlier today. I don’t want to make people think I’m going to be like every other dictator. Because I care. Don’t I?” “Frisian, it takes a real man to say something like that. I can tell you’re speaking from the heart. I have noticed that ever since you got to this planet, you’ve been acting more like… well… like a jerk. Nobody will believe that you really want to protect people if you keep on acting like this.” Frisian winced. This was what he’d feared. Talamar continued, “You need to act like you care. I know you do, deep down. That’s why I still have kept my bond. But your methods are more blunt then I’d like.” “Thanks.” Talamar’s words were an embodiment of Frisian’s own fears. He closed his eyes, thinking of how he’d interacted with Asylum at the carnival. He needed to have more thought, more love behind his words. And perhaps, he thought as he began to drift off. Perhaps he would be a bit kinder to the officers in charge and work his way up the chain the honest way.
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 (edited) On 6/17/2024 at 9:00 PM, Lunamor said: A dark shape flew overhead. A raven. Eza ignored it in her panic for a moment before realizing what the figure actually was. Lum. The man had taken Lum. It’d happened again. She was too weak to save them, just fleeing like the coward she was. Useless, only getting in the way. She slowly stumbled to a halt, watching them fly away and slowly grow smaller until they were obscured by buildings. She couldn’t do anything to stop it. Even though she was stronger now, it didn’t matter. Eza went from borderline hyperventilating to numb. They were gone. No, not gone. Arrested. It was different. The glowing man wasn’t going to kill Lum, right? But she didn’t know that for sure; the punishments here might be harsher. Lum said that they were really strong, but the man had been able to take him away easily. She had to fix this. She wouldn’t abandon like she had before. She suddenly remembered where she was, feeling the hundreds of pairs of eyes all focused on her. There was that tiny floating blue person still hanging there, as well. She wasn’t sure if it had been sincere when saying it was trying to save her, but it couldn’t hurt to be polite. “Thanks for offering to help!” She wasn’t about to stick around long enough for it to realize that she was also a criminal. Her newly forming plan was very illegal, too. So, she started running again, her breathing ragged, and finally entered the narrow streets once more. Burning her iron, she was comforted by the thick blue lines sprawling in every direction. She wasn’t powerless here. Eza put up her hood and dropped her koloss plushie next to a child sitting on the sidewalk, then ironpulled herself down the street with purpose. This time, she still had a chance to save them. Quote Note that the following events take place alongside Eza's scene here, right up until the flash-forward. Eighth of the Eve, Smokestack, Koloss Head Munching Day Festival It had been a fruitless day. Hours of searching. Hours of asking anyone he could, looking everywhere he could think of. He had even begun actively seeking other lenswearers. Yet the minute he tried to find them, it seemed none were there to be found. Eighth of the Eve trudged in the general direction of his safecamp. A generous term for the plot of pavement he had staked out alongside other waywards, but it was better than nothing. Seiju flew above, enjoying the calm winds of a closing day. Eighth made his way through the crowds. It was slower going, without Seiju. Still, he was able to outpace most of them, and made his way through the area he now knew as Smokestack. Through that, he would find his home. He reached the end of a tight alleyway, weaving around a stack of boxes. There, he paused. The area was overflowing with people. Strange stalls hawked food, wares, and contests. When had this come in? No wonder the Cauldron had been so empty. Half the city must have been here. Eighth whistled, high and sharp. He was relieved to see Seiju's familiar form winging its way towards him. The Aviar flew straight towards him, landing on his shoulder and huddling down. Seiju usually liked people, but no one could enjoy a crowd this large. Eighth held up his arm, and she stepped down gratefully, tucking herself up against his chest as he brought her down. Eighth scratched her head soothingly, doing his best to navigate without disturbing the bird. He soon found himself moving easily through the gathered mass of people. He felt Seiju relaxing against him, and smiled. They were both most at ease like this. Navigating terrain, Aviar and trapper. This was their domain. As always, Eighth scanned his surroundings, on alert. Or, at least close to it. It had been so long since a flash of red hair or strangely colored glasses had led where he wanted them to. Still, he had to keep looking. She was here, in this strange world. He was sure of th- Cries of alarm sounded, and a small form came pelting out ahead of him. Almost directly towards him. The crowd around was shifting away from it, faster than he would have thought possible. He felt himself jostled around, barely able to control their movement. He was still in the runner's path. Seiju shrilled frantically. At the last second, Eighth gained room to step aside, barely avoiding a head-on collision. As it was, the figure glanced off his side, and Eighth went spinning. He flung his arm up and outwards, and Seiju took to the air safely. He himself rebounded off a hefty man with gray skin. He shook the stars from his vision just in time to see his assailant darting past. Eighth froze. Short stature. A flash of green eyes, briefly visible as she passed. A lock of dark hair, blown free of her hood. It can't be. Ignoring the curses of the grayskin, Eighth pushed off and tore down the street. Above him, Seiju called anxiously. The people had already begun filling in, but Eighth wove his way through the crowd at a dead run. He barely felt the brush of clothing from his passage, let alone the contact of skin. Ahead, the figure rounded a corner. Eighth swore, slapping his wrist against a passing lamppost. A glowing cord of energy trailed behind him, extending freely. Sprinting towards the intersection at full speed, he commanded the lightline to cease extending. Eighth of the Eve whipped around in a tight arc, dismissing the line at his apex. He heard a cries of dismay behind him, and the sound of more than a few bodies hitting the ground. He didn't care. She was getting away. Eighth shoved his way past two men, vaulted a seated festivalgoer, and dashed between a strolling couple. His steps were sure and safe. Nothing got in his way. He would make it. She wasn't running to swiftly. He would- The figure shot away, moving at impossible speeds. Eighth's eyes widened as they ran five times the pace he was setting. No. No! "Fall!" He screamed. The sound was swallowed by the crowd. "Fourth of the Fall! Is that you?" The figure rounded a corner and vanished. Eighth of the Eve slowed to a halt, staring helplessly. Then the world became a blur as an impact drove him to the ground. Arms tightened around him, and the thud of approaching boots filled his ears. Blue-coated figures, seemingly sideways from his angle, slowed to a jog as they approached. He felt hands grabbing his arms, and struggled helplessly. A brightly colored speck approached from above, but a frantic whistle sent Seiju winging away. Hands hoisted him upright, and one man pulled his head up by the hair. Sight blurred by tears, Eighth only just made out something swinging towards him, straight between his eyes. Everything went black. * * * On 6/19/2024 at 5:57 PM, Lunamor said: After asking around, sacrificing some of her least shiny coins in the process, Eza quickly found the location of the Smokestack constabulary building. She figured that was probably where you would take someone who you’d arrested. The idea of being near it wasn't particularly pleasant- it was the exact type of place she tried to avoid- but she had no other options. She scaled a building barely within eyeshot of the constabulary without assistance from ironpulling; she didn't want to frivolously use her metal supply now that it was getting rather low. Then, Eza burnt iron and surveyed her options. The office was flanked by two buildings. A bakery and a smithy. The smithy had a thick line leading to its roof, visible even this far away. Squinting, she saw that it was connected to a thick metal chimney billowing a steady stream of smoke. The neighbors probably didn't appreciate that very much. Eza, however, great appreciated it. Heavy metallic objects such as that allowed her to use ironpulling in the most effective way. She hopped back down into the street, her hood up as always, and widely circled around to the side of the smithy not visible from the constabulary building. She quietly made her way to the roof and stood behind the chimney, carefully peering out to ensure that the constabulary didn't have a window with a view of the smithy's roof. That didn't seem to be the case, so she carefully crept to the edge. Then, she jumped as far forwards as she could to the constabulary's building's top. In that moment while she began to descend through the air, she ironpulled on the metal chimney behind her. Since it was towards the top of the smithy's sloped roof, it was higher up than her. This meant that her momentum was rapidly decreased to the point where, when her feet made contact with the roof, it was completely silent. She then kept her iron burning for a second more, noting where lines entered the building. One section was conspicuously devoid of blue lines. That was probably where the jail cells were. Letting criminal allomancers near metal things was a bad idea, and the Scadrian Smokestack district probably had lots of them. She carefully walked over to the area without lines, ensuring that her footsteps were soft enough to make no noise. Eza kept low, trying to make herself as difficult to see as possible. She then proceeded to wait for the yelling to start. Lum was the sort of person who would almost certainly try to escape. At the very least, they'd cause chaos. If it got late enough, however, she'd try to do a more thorough inspection of the building. The risk of being seen would be smaller when it was dark and most people were in their homes. Eighth of the Eve, Smokestack, Constabulary Office Eighth felt himself slowly awaken. Everything hurt. His entire left side seemed to be one massive bruise. His shoulder was on fire, as though he had almost pulled it from its socket. His lower back ached fiercely, as though he had arched his back too far, too fast. And his head. Father, but he could barely think. The pain was everywhere, worst right between his eyes. He groaned, blinking them open. Sunlight struck his eyes, and pain lanced through him anew. He forced himself awake, opening his eyes fully. "'E's awake!" the man on the right said. Eighth ignored him. Cobblestones passed by slowly underfoot, though he wasn't walking. His legs dragged limply behind him, sandalshod feet scraped and bloodied. He wasn't wearing his coat. He could feel, now. Two people, shoulders beneath his, were hauling him along. His arms were bound behind his back, wrists facing each other. Eighth painfully raised his head. Ahead, one man carried his trapper's coat as a rough bundle. Within, a variety of items bulged out. He made out the dull shine of polished carapace. They had his gear. Beyond, an ominous structure of stone and metal came ever closer. "You're in trouble now, son," the other said. "We'll take good care o' you, though. Don' you worry none." Who are they? Soldiers, sent to kill? They had not the build of fighting men. Mercenaries, then? But who would want him dead? And where are they taking me? First things first. Eighth examined himself. He was hurting but hale. He could move his fingers fine, and he felt muscles flex as he wished them. Almost absentmindedly, he explored the knots around his hands, pulling it apart with barely any effort. He was a trapper, and all trappers knew their knots. He was still garbed in the plain clothing of the colorful land. They hadn't touched that, it appeared. And on his upper arm... Yes. He could feel his weightloss secured there, still making him lighter. Eighth of the Eve smiled. Then he released his weightloss. The men at his sides stumbled at the sudden increase in weight. One, a portly elder with graying hair, staggered to one knee. That was enough. Eighth lifted one leg and planted a solid kick in the man's ribs. The graybeard gasped, falling to his side. Eighth, pushing off the kick, leaped the other way, bearing his full weight on his captor. The man fell to the ground, and Eighth rolled off him. His arm screamed as he hauled himself to his feet. No time for pain. The man ahead was already turning, bundle tumbling carelessly to the ground. Eighth charged him as he fumbled at his waist, grabbing the man by the wrists. One hand gripped on a cudgel tucked at his belt. Eighth continued onward at a run, forcing the man back, wrestling for the weapon. He felt the man stumble, and rode him to the ground. The man's head smacked the cobblestones, and he struggled dazedly. One down. Eighth whipped the club out, raising it high overhead. Then an enormous impact struck him, right beneath his upraised arm, forcing him off to his side. Breath exploded from his lungs, and he rolled upright, shoulder protesting the treatment. The graybeard menaced him, cudgel in hand, standing before his partner. Eighth backpedaled, narrowly avoiding the man's swing. He tried to meet the next with his own, and got a crack on his wrist for his trouble. He winced, bounding back clumsily as the graybeard approached. He needed to act, and quickly. Eighth threw his club. It was actually easier than the machete, without a blade to speak of. The whirling weapon caught the older man in the shoulder, and cry tore from his throat as his cudgel clattered to the ground. Eighth charged him once more, shoulder tucked. He caught the man right under the ribs and heaved, sending him sprawling to the cobbles. Eighth stood there, breathing heavily. Then a faint footstep sounded behind him. He tried to turn, but the second man's blow caught him in the shoulder. The bad one. Pain flared like flame, and he stumbled as he faced the new threat. Then a hand latched around his foot, and he went to the ground. The graybeard rolled painfully to his feet, advancing with his partner. Eighth tried to rise, but his shoulder gave out, and he fell once more, head striking the cobbles. Hard. By the time Eighth's vision had cleared, he was being towed towards that building once more. Not carried, not this time. Dragged. By the arms. Bound once more. Eighth could barely remain conscious from the pain. This is not going well. @Lunamor Edited July 8, 2024 by Longshot97 2
Lunamor she/her Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 2 hours ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve, Smokestack, Koloss Head Munching Day Festival It had been a fruitless day. Hours of searching. Hours of asking anyone he could, looking everywhere he could think of. He had even begun actively seeking other lenswearers. Yet the minute he tried to find them, it seemed none were there to be found. Eighth of the Eve trudged in the general direction of his safecamp. A generous term for the plot of pavement he had staked out alongside other waywards, but it was better than nothing. Seiju flew above, enjoying the calm winds of a closing day. Eighth made his way through the crowds. It was slower going, without Seiju. Still, he was able to outpace most of them, and made his way through the area he now knew as Smokestack. Through that, he would find his home. He reached the end of a tight alleyway, weaving around a stack of boxes. There, he paused. The area was overflowing with people. Strange stalls hawked food, wares, and contests. When had this come in? No wonder the Cauldron had been so empty. Half the city must have been here. Eighth whistled, high and sharp. He was relieved to see Seiju's familiar form winging its way towards him. The Aviar flew straight towards him, landing on his shoulder and huddling down. Seiju usually liked people, but no one could enjoy a crowd this large. Eighth held up his arm, and she stepped down gratefully, tucking herself up against his chest as he brought her down. Eighth scratched her head soothingly, doing his best to navigate without disturbing the bird. He soon found himself moving easily through the gathered mass of people. He felt Seiju relaxing against him, and smiled. They were both most at ease like this. Navigating terrain, Aviar and trapper. This was their domain. As always, Eighth scanned his surroundings, on alert. Or, at least close to it. It had been so long since a flash of red hair or strangely colored glasses had led where he wanted them to. Still, he had to keep looking. She was here, in this strange world. He was sure of th- Cries of alarm sounded, and a small form came pelting out ahead of him. Almost directly towards him. The crowd around was shifting away from it, faster than he would have thought possible. He felt himself jostled around, barely able to control their movement. He was still in the runner's path. Seiju shrilled frantically. At the last second, Eighth gained room to step aside, barely avoiding a head-on collision. As it was, the figure glanced off his side, and Eighth went spinning. He flung his arm up and outwards, and Seiju took to the air safely. He himself rebounded off a hefty man with gray skin. He shook the stars from his vision just in time to see his assailant darting past. Eighth froze. Short stature. A flash of green eyes, briefly visible as she passed. A lock of dark hair, blown free of her hood. It can't be. Ignoring the curses of the grayskin, Eighth pushed off and tore down the street. Above him, Seiju called anxiously. The people had already begun filling in, but Eighth wove his way through the crowd at a dead run. He barely felt the brush of clothing from his passage, let alone the contact of skin. Ahead, the figure rounded a corner. Eighth swore, slapping his wrist against a passing lamppost. A glowing cord of energy trailed behind him, extending freely. Sprinting towards the intersection at full speed, he commanded the lightline to cease extending. Eighth of the Eve whipped around in a tight arc, dismissing the line at his apex. He heard a cries of dismay behind him, and the sound of more than a few bodies hitting the ground. He didn't care. She was getting away. Eighth shoved his way past two men, vaulted a seated festivalgoer, and dashed between a strolling couple. His steps were sure and safe. Nothing got in his way. He would make it. She wasn't running to swiftly. He would- The figure shot away, moving at impossible speeds. Eighth's eyes widened as they ran five times the pace he was setting. No. No! "Fall!" He screamed. The sound was swallowed by the crowd. "Fourth of the Fall! Is that you?" The figure rounded a corner and vanished. Eighth of the Eve slowed to a halt, staring helplessly. Then the world became a blur as an impact drove him to the ground. Arms tightened around him, and the thud of approaching boots filled his ears. Blue-coated figures, seemingly sideways from his angle, slowed to a jog as they approached. He felt hands grabbing his arms, and struggled helplessly. A brightly colored speck approached from above, but a frantic whistle sent Seiju winging away. Hands hoisted him upright, and one man pulled his head up by the hair. Sight blurred by tears, Eighth only just made out something swinging towards him, straight between his eyes. Everything went black. * * * Eighth of the Eve, Smokestack, Constabulary Office Eighth felt himself slowly awaken. Everything hurt. His entire left side seemed to be one massive bruise. His shoulder was on fire, as though he had almost pulled it from its socket. His lower back ached fiercely, as though he had arched his back too far, too fast. And his head. Father, but he could barely think. The pain was everywhere, worst right between his eyes. He groaned, blinking them open. Sunlight struck his eyes, and pain lanced through him anew. He forced himself awake, opening his eyes fully. "'E's awake!" the man on the right said. Eighth ignored him. Cobblestones passed by slowly underfoot, though he wasn't walking. His legs dragged limply behind him, sandalshod feet scraped and bloodied. His hand fell into view from the corner of his vision before swinging away. He could feel, now. Two people, shoulders beneath his, were hauling him along. His arms rested along their backs, elbows crooked over their necks. Eighth painfully raised his head. Ahead, one man carried his tracker's coat as a rough bundle. Within, a variety of items bulged out. He made out the dull shine of polished carapace. They had his tools. Beyond, an ominous structure of stone and metal came ever closer. "You're in trouble now, son," the other said. "We'll take good care o' you, though. Don' you worry none." Who are they? Soldiers, sent to kill? They had not the build of fighting men. Mercenaries, then? But who would want him dead? And where are they taking me? First things first. Eighth examined himself. He was hurting but hale. He could move his fingers fine, and he felt muscles flex as he wished them. He was garbed in the plain clothing of the colorful land. They hadn't touched that, it appeared. And on his upper arm... Yes. He could feel his weightloss secured there, still making him lighter. Eighth of the Eve smiled. Then he released his weightloss. The men at his sides stumbled at the sudden increase in weight. One, a portly elder with graying hair, staggered to one knee. That was enough. Eighth lifted one leg and planted a solid kick in the man's ribs. The graybeard gasped, falling to his side. Eighth, pushing off the kick, leaped the other way, bearing his full weight on his captor. The man fell to the ground, and Eighth rolled off him. His arm screamed as he hauled himself to his feet. No time for pain. The man ahead was already turning, bundle tumbling carelessly to the ground. Eighth charged him as he fumbled at his waist, grabbing the man by the wrists. One hand gripped on a cudgel tucked at his belt. Eighth continued onward at a run, forcing the man back, wrestling for the weapon. He felt the man stumble, and rode him to the ground. The man's head smacked the cobblestones, and he struggled dazedly. One down. Eighth whipped the club out, raising it overhead. Then an enormous impact struck him, right beneath his upraised arm, sending him off to the side. Breath exploded from his lungs, and he rolled upright, shoulder protesting the treatment. The graybeard menaced him, cudgel in hand, standing before his partner. Eighth backpedaled, narrowly avoiding the man's swing. He tried to meet the next with his own, and got a crack on his wrist for his trouble. He winced, bounding back clumsily as the graybeard approached. He needed to act, and quickly. Eighth threw his cudgel. It was actually easier than the machete, without a blade to speak of. The whirling weapon caught the older man in the shoulder, and cry tore from his throat as his cudgel clattered to the ground. Eighth charged him once more, shoulder tucked. He caught the man right under the ribs and heaved, sending him sprawling to the cobbles. Eighth stood there, breathing heavily. Then a faint footstep sounded behind him. He tried to turn, but the second man's blow caught him in the shoulder. The bad one. Pain flared inside him, and he stumbled as he faced the new threat. Then a hand latched around his foot, and he went to the ground. The graybeard rolled painfully to his feet, advancing with his partner. Eighth tried to rise, but his shoulder gave out, and he fell once more, head striking the cobbles. Hard. By the time Eighth's vision had cleared, he was being towed towards that building once more. Not carried, not this time. Dragged. By the arms. Eighth could barely remain conscious from the pain. This is not going well. @Lunamor From her rooftop perch, Eza saw a group of men approaching. Her first instinct was to flee, but something made her pause. Squinting closer, she saw that it was a man being carried by constables. He looked hurt. Really hurt, like someone had hit him in the face and beat him up. Had the policemen hurt him? They were hauling him to the constabulary building instead of getting him medical care, even though he didn't even seem to be conscious. That was cruel. People could die if they were treated like that. Suddenly, a constable said something, then they dropped the man. He sprung immediately into action, fighting deftly against his captors. He almost escaped, but they eventually subdued him. He lasted for a really long time despite being injured and facing several other men, though. She sat there for a moment, wondering why she felt like she shouldn't run and hide. Then, she realized that the man had something she didn't. He had strength. A scheme quickly began to grow in her head. That glowing guy had flown away a while ago, and he was the one who had seen her face, not these guys. There were ways to hide your particularly identifying features when people only knew you by those. Not giving herself time to regret her decision, Eza silently pulled on the smithy's chimney once more, bringing her back to its roof. For her newly created plan to work, she couldn't have such pale skin; the soon-to-be prisoner's skin was much darker than hers. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes tightly, then stuck her face and hands in the plume of sooty smoke rising from the chimney. Her eyes burned even though she'd kept them closed and she barely managed to smother a fit of coughing upon accidentally inhaling some of the fumes. She smeared more of the soot on herself to make her appearance uniform, then stuck her hands in the smoke again for good measure. She noiselessly jumped from the building unseen by the constables, pulling on the large metal chimney to slow her descent. Eza let her long black hair drape over the sides of her face, covering her large scar. Then, she circled around the back of the smithy and started running down the road, acting as if she had just turned a corner. To better sell her intended impression, she looked first at the end of the street without the policemen. "Dad? Are you there?" she said, her voice laced with fear and panic. "Please come out, I need you to come back home!" She finally turned towards the men and gasped, raising her hands to her mouth. "Dad!" Eza sprinted over, grinning widely. "It's ok Dad, I'm here. You're going to be alright." Her face fell as she "noticed" the injuries he was sporting. "Oh, you hurt yourself again..." she said, her voice quiet but still audible. Eza sniffled briefly. She then loudly addressed the constables, not letting the fake tears welling up in her eyes run down her cheeks for fear of washing away the soot. "Thank you so, so much for finding my Dad! He gets lost sometimes. He's got these memory problems, and he can get confused, and really scared, and I just-" Eza cut off, making her voice tremble. She took a deep breath, then put on that sad sort of smile you used when talking about a thing you couldn't change. "I found him, though. You guys found him. Thank you!" A few passersby watched the interaction, drawn by Eza's over-the-top dramatics. One older lady who hadn't seen the policemen beat up the man started politely clapping. Silently, Eza prayed that this guy was smart enough to go along with her ruse.
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 (edited) 52 minutes ago, Lunamor said: "Dad? Are you there?" she said, her voice laced with fear and panic. "Please come out, I need you to come back home!" She finally turned towards the men and gasped, raising her hands to her mouth. "Dad!" Eza sprinted over, grinning widely. "It's ok Dad, I'm here. You're going to be alright." Her face fell as she "noticed" the injuries he was sporting. "Oh, you hurt yourself again..." she said, her voice quiet but still audible. Eza sniffled briefly. She then loudly addressed the constables, not letting the fake tears welling up in her eyes run down her cheeks for fear of washing away the soot. "Thank you so, so much for finding my Dad! He gets lost sometimes. He's got these memory problems, and he can get confused, and really scared, and I just-" Eza cut off, making her voice tremble. She took a deep breath, then put on that sad sort of smile you used when talking about a thing you couldn't change. "I found him, though. You guys found him. Thank you!" A few passersby watched the interaction, drawn by Eza's over-the-top dramatics. One older lady who hadn't seen the policemen beat up the man started politely clapping. Silently, Eza prayed that this guy was smart enough to go along with her ruse. His assailants had stopped. Eighth of the Eve forced his eyes open. It only took three tries. His head was beginning to clear. He could just about make out his surroundings, and things were steadily coming into focus. The men around him looked...confused? Eighth followed their eyes. He felt his breath catch. It was her. But how? How had she made it here? Yet it was undoubtedly her. The short height, the slight figure. The dark hair, the tan skin. The green eyes... Sound finally filtered through his dazed mind. "...for finding my Dad! He gets lost sometimes. He's got these memory problems, and he can get confused, and really scared, and I just-" Eighth blinked. What on earth? That wasn't her voice. But, it was her. It had to be! "I found him, though. You guys found him. Thank you!" What had happened to her? Her voice sounded, rough. Coarse. Like a merchant after a long day of smoking rations. Yet... "Fall?" Eighth whispered hoarsely. "What are you doing here?" His beleaguered mind finally began to run once more. "Father? I'm not your..." What had he said? Why was she looking at him that way? Why did she look that way? @Lunamor Edited June 23, 2024 by Longshot97
Lunamor she/her Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 2 minutes ago, Longshot97 said: His assailants had stopped. Eighth of the Eve forced his eyes open. It only took three tries. His head was beginning to clear. He could just about make out his surroundings, and things were steadily coming into focus. The men around him looked...confused? Eighth followed their eyes. He felt his breath catch. It was her. But how? How had she made it here? Yet it was undoubtedly her. The short height, the slight figure. The dark hair, the tan skin. The green eyes... Sound finally filtered through his dazed mind. "...for finding my Dad! He gets lost sometimes. He's got these memory problems, and he can get confused, and really scared, and I just-" Eighth blinked. What on earth? That wasn't her voice. But, it was her. It had to be! "I found him, though. You guys found him. Thank you!" What had happened to her? Her voice sounded, rough. Coarse. Like a merchant after a long day of smoking rations. Yet... "Fall?" Eighth whispered hoarsely. "What are you doing here?" His beleaguered mind finally began to run once more. "Father? I'm not your..." Why was she looking at him that way? What had he said? @Lunamor Quote I'll note that Eza has a pretty high-pitched voice, it's part of why people think she's younger than she is. I don't remember if I actually wrote that down anywhere on the Shard, though, so consider this my first official mention of it "Dad, it's me." Her voice cracked at that final word. "I'm Elani, your daughter." She squatted down to get to eye level with him, as he was still on the ground. He was actually acting pretty weird. Had he hit his head too hard? She might have to just drop him off at a hospital instead of enlisting his help. That would be really annoying, although it was better than letting him die in the care of these constables. "Fall. Yeah, you did fall, I think," she said softly. "You've got some new bruises. You'll be ok, though. I promise. I won't let you fall again." Eza made a show of holding back her tears in a heartbreakingly sad display. She then turned away from her "Dad" and back to the constables. "He remembers better when he's at home. He's lived there longer than he's known..." She trailed off, as if she couldn't bear to finish her sentence. She shook her head like she was clearing it. "He'll be better when I take him home. Thank you again for finding him. I don't know what I would've done had I lost him." She gently took his arm and tried to guide him away from the constables before either they or he had time to fully process the oddities of her story.
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 (edited) 1 hour ago, Lunamor said: "Dad, it's me." Her voice cracked at that final word. "I'm Elani, your daughter." She squatted down to get to eye level with him, as he was still on the ground. He was actually acting pretty weird. Had he hit his head too hard? She might have to just drop him off at a hospital instead of enlisting his help. That would be really annoying, although it was better than letting him die in the care of these constables. "Fall. Yeah, you did fall, I think," she said softly. "You've got some new bruises. You'll be ok, though. I promise. I won't let you fall again." Eza made a show of holding back her tears in a heartbreakingly sad display. She then turned away from her "Dad" and back to the constables. "He remembers better when he's at home. He's lived there longer than he's known..." She trailed off, as if she couldn't bear to finish her sentence. She shook her head like she was clearing it. "He'll be better when I take him home. Thank you again for finding him. I don't know what I would've done had I lost him." She gently took his arm and tried to guide him away from the constables before either they or he had time to fully process the oddities of her story. Eighth of the Eve stumbled to his feet as the girl drew him away. Oddly enough, his captors released him easily. Had he the room for extra thought, he would have pondered. As it was, it took everything he had to stoop and retrieve his bundled coat, containing all his worldly possessions. "Just a minute, young miss," a voice said from behind, and Eighth turned wearily to look back. The man's voice died off as he met Eighth's eyes. How battered do I look? By the Father. The graybeard, however, was not so easily deterred. He set his hand on his partner's shoulder, drawing him back. "We have multiple reports on this man," the graybeard said. "Disturbing the peace, assault and battery, not to mention resisting arrest. This man is not safe." Eighth met the man's eyes. To his credit, he maintained eye contact for longer than Eighth would have thought. But eventually, he looked away. Almost...guiltily? In a flash, Eighth finally recognized them for what they were. It had been many moons since his Travels had taken him to a land with a functioning constabulary. He admired such men, generally. Peacekeepers. Today, however, his battered body and clouded thoughts tempered any such empathy. "I approached no one," Eighth said softly, "and drew no weapons. No one demanded my surrender. The law was never mentioned. I was assaulted. I reacted accordingly." Eighth drew himself up, struggle evident in the motion. Father, but he hurt badly. He could feel the swelling begin to set in. "Can you say as much, good constable? @Lunamor Quote When I first wrote Eighth's capture scene, it was with the thought that Frisian's confrontation with Asylum would have sent nearby officers in the KHM Festival on high alert. Enough so that a man causing a scene would be dealt with quickly rather than carefully. Hence the injuries, lack of true investigation, and no due process. Eza's deception was very well handled. I was almost tempted to have the officer's stay silent. It felt equally realistic for them to not ask questions as it felt to have them step in. Nicely done Quote I'll note that Eza has a pretty high-pitched voice, it's part of why people think she's younger than she is. I don't remember if I actually wrote that down anywhere on the Shard, though, so consider this my first official mention of it Thank you for the clarification, and for phrasing it so politely. I think it has in fact been mentioned in one of Eza's previous scenes. In the interest of clarity, however, I assume the above is in reference to this comment. 1 hour ago, Longshot97 said: What had happened to her? Her voice sounded, rough. Coarse. Like a merchant after a long day of smoking rations. Yet... On my part, this was in response to the below text (emphasis mine). 2 hours ago, Lunamor said: Not giving herself time to regret her decision, Eza silently pulled on the smithy's chimney once more, bringing her back to its roof. For her newly created plan to work, she couldn't have such pale skin; the soon-to-be prisoner's skin was much darker than hers. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes tightly, then stuck her face and hands in the plume of sooty smoke rising from the chimney. Her eyes burned even though she'd kept them closed and she barely managed to smother a fit of coughing upon accidentally inhaling some of the fumes. The "smoking rations" bit was an attempt at an in-character metaphor. Edited June 23, 2024 by Longshot97 1
Lunamor she/her Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 10 hours ago, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve stumbled to his feet as the girl drew him away. Oddly enough, his captors released him easily. Had he the room for extra thought, he would have pondered. As it was, it took everything he had to stoop and retrieve his bundled coat, containing all his worldly possessions. "Just a minute, young miss," a voice said from behind, and Eighth turned wearily to look back. The man's voice died off as he met Eighth's eyes. How battered do I look? By the Father. The graybeard, however, was not so easily deterred. He set his hand on his partner's shoulder, drawing him back. "We have multiple reports on this man," the graybeard said. "Disturbing the peace, assault and battery, not to mention resisting arrest. This man is not safe." Eighth met the man's eyes. To his credit, he maintained eye contact for longer than Eighth would have thought. But eventually, he looked away. Almost...guiltily? In a flash, Eighth finally recognized them for what they were. It had been many moons since his Travels had taken him to a land with a functioning constabulary. He admired such men, generally. Peacekeepers. Today, however, his battered body and clouded thoughts tempered any such empathy. "I approached no one," Eighth said softly, "and drew no weapons. No one demanded my surrender. The law was never mentioned. I was assaulted. I reacted accordingly." Eighth drew himself up, struggle evident in the motion. Father, but he hurt badly. He could feel the swelling begin to set in. "Can you say as much, good constable? @Lunamor Quote That makes sense, her voice being scratchy right now is probably the most realistic option. Rust. This guy might be a violent criminal. That was the worst type of criminal and certainly one that would be difficult for her to handle. Even though she was a metalborn, winning fights was not her forte. She was far better at avoiding the need for them in the first place. She would’ve preferred a thief. Eza understood thieves. If you were a competent and considerate thief, no real harm would come to anyone. Hopefully he wasn’t lying when he said that he’d just been jumped by the police without warning. That one constable was acting pretty guilty, which would fit with that claim. She subtly burned iron to ensure that her daggers were still strapped safely to her hips, just in case, then began her pleading. ”He gets scared when he doesn’t know where he is. It makes him act weirdly. If a bunch of random men approached you and tried to take you away, it would make sense to freak out.” Eza made her voice pitifully quiver and gave her best puppy dog eyes. She would’ve stepped in front of the man to act protective of him, but she didn’t trust him to not stab her in the back if she turned away from him. He might just try to run away, too, which would mean a significant part of her efforts were all for nothing. ”Please don’t hurt him sir,” she begged. “It’s not his fault that he gets confused sometimes.” She made sure to project her words so that the small crowd surrounding them could clearly hear them. The older lady who had been clapping nodded along and looked at the constables expectantly.
Longshot97 he/him Posted June 23, 2024 Posted June 23, 2024 (edited) 38 minutes ago, Lunamor said: Rust. This guy might be a violent criminal. That was the worst type of criminal and certainly one that would be difficult for her to handle. Even though she was a metalborn, winning fights was not her forte. She was far better at avoiding the need for them in the first place. She would’ve preferred a thief. Eza understood thieves. If you were a competent and considerate thief, no real harm would come to anyone. Hopefully he wasn’t lying when he said that he’d just been jumped by the police without warning. That one constable was acting pretty guilty, which would fit with that claim. She subtly burned iron to ensure that her daggers were still strapped safely to her hips, just in case, then began her pleading. ”He gets scared when he doesn’t know where he is. It makes him act weirdly. If a bunch of random men approached you and tried to take you away, it would make sense to freak out.” Eza made her voice pitifully quiver and gave her best puppy dog eyes. She would’ve stepped in front of the man to act protective of him, but she didn’t trust him to not stab her in the back if she turned away from him. He might just try to run away, too, which would mean a significant part of her efforts were all for nothing. ”Please don’t hurt him sir,” she begged. “It’s not his fault that he gets confused sometimes.” She made sure to project her words so that the small crowd surrounding them could clearly hear them. The older lady who had been clapping nodded along and looked at the constables expectantly. Eighth of the Eve looked his assailant straight in the eyes. Inwardly, his mind toiled to process everything that was being said. None of what Fall was saying was right. Indeed, he'd never heard her speak so much. But why... Oh. Oh, Distant Father. This wasn't Fourth of the Fall. And she was not speaking truth. It had been years since Eighth had been forced to lie. Not out of choice. Years of solitude gave a man little reason for falsehood. He had lied, once. Every man begun life as a youth, and before that as children. But still. It felt...odd. Not wrong, just not quite right, either. Eighth deliberately slid his eyes out of focus, assuming a vacant expression. He looked around, noticing the bystanders as though for the first time, then down at Fourth of th-at the young girl. "E...lani," he said, sounding out the word. What a peculiar name. "What are you doing outside?" He attempted to assume a stern expression. "You know you aren't supposed to...be out alone." He looked back at the constables. The younger men looked stricken, the graybeard pensive. His eyes flickered between Eighth and the girl. Probably for the best that they had aimed for the face. His features were now indistinct enough that no one would wonder at differing appearances. "Thank you, constable," Eighth said, voice slurring slightly. Really, his head was clear now, but it could not hurt. "Thank you for returning me to my daughter." He held out his hands, still bound before him. He could have freed himself, but the move felt significant. "I would appreciate one last gesture of help." He locked eyes with the graybeard. The man looked firm, but his eyes betrayed him. Uncertain, darting back and forth. He took in Eighth's stature, then his clothing, then his gear. Then he finally examined Eighth's injuries. His eyes tightened at the edges, and his lips compressed. Then, slowly, he unsheathed a knife and stepped forward to cut Eighth's hands free. Eighth of the Eve said nothing. He merely clutched his gear as he turned, slowly walking away. Entrusting his fate to the one who led him, one hand on his arm. @Lunamor Edited June 23, 2024 by Longshot97
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