Stormlightsong Posted July 27, 2024 Posted July 27, 2024 (edited) On 7/19/2024 at 8:23 PM, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve followed the black cat. Seiju huddled at his shoulder, eyes drooping. It had been a long day for her. Thankfully, she remained awake enough to guide his steps. The ground trembled every so often, accompanied with cries and shouts of pain echoing down the halls, but the Aviar kept his stride smooth. Eza curled up in his arms, breathing ragged and faint. She seemed to weight nothing in his arms. So slight, so frail. The cat was approaching the intersection. To the left, the cellblock door was flung open, flickering light spilling into the hall. Beyond there was escape. Beyond that bloodied hall was safety. As though hearing his thoughts, the cat stopped, turning its head to regard Eighth calmly. Its shadow followed suit a moment too late, spots of light seeming to pin Eighth in place. It flicked its tail, then meandered to the right. The shadow lingered, staring at Eighth, before following the small feline. Eighth ground his teeth, but turned as well. There was no point. It wasn't as though he could lift Eza out their small skylight. Well, not before pursuers caught up with them. This was their best chance. Her best chance. Her only chance. The cat strode serenely down the hall, almost delicately stepping over a few spots of blood, stopping before an open door. The smell of cooked food wafted out alongside blood and decay, and Eighth's stomach turned. The cat stepped through the door. And Eighth followed. He didn't know what he'd been expecting. But this was worse. Distant Father... Blood puddled around a corpse, prone on the floor. Unmoving, thankfully. Arranged about it were three circles of white powder. Salt? Besides them, three forms stood. And Eighth's heart all but froze in his chest. A bulbous, pestilent man stood, impossibly upright despite the ailments that visibly wracked his body. Eighth felt sick just looking at him. The mucus green of his eyes wavered in the light, like smoke above a fire. The yellow-eyed man was thin; painfully so. His clothes hung about a spindly frame, with skin wrapped tight about harsh, bony edges. Eighth licked his lips, his mouth suddenly bone-dry. And then... Oh Father. Oh, Patji. The man's eyes were completely red. Muscle swelled impossibly about his frame. Those eyes met his, and tore his eyes away. Horrible, terrible rage loomed in that body. It could hardly be human. And, of course, it. Skinwalker. Demon. Depthbringer. Asylum Smedry. The man stood over a withered husk, blood dripping from his hands and staining his suitcoat. It was almost entirely red now, so saturated as to appear black. That, however, paled in comparison to his eyes. Like pools of midnight, pierced by a the spots of abyss that were his pupils. His skin had smoothed over, teeth and nails pristinely white. Even that could not hide this monstrosity's nature. Eighth's eyes flicked to the shriveled mass of flesh at Asylum's feet. The shadowcat stretched, then padded over to its master, rubbing up against the man's ankles. Its eyes, however, remained on Eighth. Its shadow undulated unnaturally. Eighth of the Eve stood, Eza cradled in his arms. His back felt on fire. His face was a mask of stillness - trapper's impassivity flowed where emotion failed. "Asylum Smedry," Eighth said. His voice felt distant. "We have come, as your minion bade us. What are your demands?" @Stormlightsong @Lunamor Asylum looked at the man before them. They had not gotten a good look before, but he looked smart. Most people Asylum gambled with weren’t smart; They could be tricked easily, but this man was dangerous. Asylum could tell from the way he held Eza that he cared for her and feared what they would do, and for some reason they felt something familiar about the man, something… familial. the man spoke and Asylum could tell he had a good poker face. He would be a good ally. “I think there has been a misunderstanding.” Asylum said before looking around the room and seeing the bodies. “And I see why there has been a misunderstanding.” They clapped their hands and two zombies stepped up. “could you clean up please? There should be a mop and a broom in a closet over there.” The zombies disappeared and returned with the mop and broom. One cleaned up the blood and cleared out the bodies while the other swept the salt away. “Please take a seat.” They motioned towards a table and then remembered about Eza. “Um, there should be some medicine in a cupboard somewhere. Would you like coffee or tea?” @Lunamor Edited July 27, 2024 by Stormlightsong 1
Koloss17 She/They Posted July 27, 2024 Author Posted July 27, 2024 Perses, Mistwarrens. Something was wrong. According to the panicked bystanders, there was a blood moon in the sky, which was very concerning. Though something else was wrong. No, the blood moon wasn’t what was wrong. It was whatever had caused it. Or whoever caused it. Something is wrong in Smokestack. Perses don’t know how he knew, but he was sure of it. Whoever had caused this was in Smokestack. Burning steel, Perses flew off. ———————————————— Perses didn’t like flying. He knew it wasn’t proper flight, but few things were. But being in the air, continuously fighting the pull of gravity, terrified him. Being deprived of his senses, being too far to easily detect life, with his touch and hearing enveloped by the roaring winds. The only sense that was useful to him was his steelsense. Yet sometimes, the downsides were worth it. Perses flew overhead, entering Smokestack. The cobbled and worn buildings quickly turned into hardy housing. Nothing particularly glamorous, but sturdy. Well maintained. It was odd, being able to actually see that. It burned through his steelsightminds, but it was certainly worthwhile. All of the things that he had to intuit, to learn through hearing or feeling. To just be able to see it plainly felt like cheating. The constabulary. Perses landed, finally feeling ground again. His patchwork stitches burned in agony, but held. He would need something proper, but now wasn’t the time. He had to discover what chaos was being wreaked in his city. Quote For brief context, Perses does not have a god sense telling him where to go. I mean, he does, but it’s not deus ex machina-esque. Asylum’s Demon summoning pulled denizens of the Alleys into the physical realm, which caught Belias’ attention. If you don’t know who that is, read my Perses’ Descent mini-story. @Stormlightsong @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner @Lunamor @Longshot97
Longshot97 he/him Posted July 28, 2024 Posted July 28, 2024 (edited) On 7/27/2024 at 10:26 AM, Stormlightsong said: the man spoke and Asylum could tell he had a good poker face. He would be a good ally. “I think there has been a misunderstanding.” Asylum said before looking around the room and seeing the bodies. “And I see why there has been a misunderstanding.” They clapped their hands and two zombies stepped up. “could you clean up please? There should be a mop and a broom in a closet over there.” The zombies disappeared and returned with the mop and broom. One cleaned up the blood and cleared out the bodies while the other swept the salt away. Eighth watched in disbelief. The creature was acting...like a man. Acting as though it hadn't mercilessly slaughtered dozens of people. As though it hadn't twisted half of those into mindless, bloodless abominations. And whatever these three... things were. Eighth kept his eyes pointedly away from them. They simply stood there, fixated eerily on him. The Mindless moved efficiently, clearing out cruor and corpses alike. On 7/27/2024 at 10:26 AM, Stormlightsong said: “Please take a seat.” They motioned towards a table and then remembered about Eza. “Um, there should be some medicine in a cupboard somewhere. Would you like coffee or tea?” Somehow, this shallow semblance of hospitality was more disturbing then the violence before. Eighth almost preferred having the demon's nature unveiled than this...this farce. Misunderstanding? What was there to misunderstand? First things first. Eighth strode to the table, gently setting Eza down on her cloak, ignoring the man's offer. It was petty, but only slightly so. Her pulse was still weak, and, if possible, her breathing felt even shallower. She didn't even stir as he slipped his waterskin under her head, or probed the cut on her arm. Thank the Father, the bloodflow had slowed. Eighth longed to do nothing more than slump into a seat. His back felt slick with blood, and his head ached abominably. He remained standing, however. They may have barely escaped the Bloodless, but Eighth felt that this man was by far the greater danger. His left hand rested casually at hip level, where his blade was secured beneath his coat. His machete had refused to unsheathe - he eyed the shadowcat, still lounging on the floor - but Eza's knife was still tucked loosely into his belt. His other hand tensed, priming the trigger to his blowpipes, still hidden under his sleeve. Seiju crouched low at his shoulder, and he felt his legs steady beneath him. "Medicine will not help this," Eighth said slowly. His voice remained flat, still as a tidepool "She is exhausted, and not a little hurt. There is damage we cannot reach. But I have seen worlds where men restore others at a mere touch." He glanced over at Asylum. "Can you do anything for her?" Quote @Lunamor I hope I'm interpreting the injury correctly. Please correct me if you had a different idea. Edited July 28, 2024 by Longshot97
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted July 28, 2024 Posted July 28, 2024 On 7/22/2024 at 9:52 AM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna flared pewter and pushed herself upright, slamming her fist into the creature’s face, just as it turned away to face the Radiant. Its head snapped backwards, then it retaliated with a clawing swipe. A glowing chunk of wood flew by, and Fenna grabbed on, storing weight. She dodged the attack, pulled by the beam, the tapped weight halting the wood. Flaring her pewter, Fenna tugged on the wood and pulled it forwards, slamming the improvised weapon into the monster’s head. It stumbled backwards into the path of the Radiant as he fell down the hallway like a glowing spear. @Scars of Hathsin Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury Arranis flies down the hallway. This never gets old. He grins to himself and Astra, who floats along beside him. Time seems to slow as they remember what they had been through. It never does she sighs. Time seems to resume, and he hits the beast, which had been knocked further into the way of his spear. She is not a bad fighter. He grins, as the pole impales itself in the side of the vampire. Incapacitating it. Dang it he mutters, before starting to run away from it. "Come on" he yells behind him, yelling at the woman, "It wont stay down for long." Astra, go find an edgedancer for me would you? @Speeding Steelrunner
Steel Speedster ♂ Posted July 29, 2024 Posted July 29, 2024 (edited) On 7/28/2024 at 5:52 PM, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury Arranis flies down the hallway. This never gets old. He grins to himself and Astra, who floats along beside him. Time seems to slow as they remember what they had been through. It never does she sighs. Time seems to resume, and he hits the beast, which had been knocked further into the way of his spear. She is not a bad fighter. He grins, as the pole impales itself in the side of the vampire. Incapacitating it. Dang it he mutters, before starting to run away from it. "Come on" he yells behind him, yelling at the woman, "It wont stay down for long." Astra, go find an edgedancer for me would you? @Speeding Steelrunner Fenna, Smokestack, Constabulary Building The Radiant crashed into the monster, slamming a length of wood through its body. It fell to the ground, but continued to twitch. Rusts! Fenna thought. Can this thing even die? The Radiant continued on, shouting over his shoulder for her to follow. ”You go that way!” Fenna replied. “We’ll split up, cover more ground.” I don’t need a Radiant watching me this whole time. She backed up to one side of the hall, then flaring pewter and tapping weight, threw herself into the opposite wall, smashing through to the room beyond. The walls shook, dropping debris to the ground. Fenna frowned up at the ceiling. Hopefully this isn’t compromising the structural integrity of this building, she thought. Eh, it’s a police station, I’m sure it can handle it. Edited July 30, 2024 by Speeding Steelrunner
Stormlightsong Posted July 31, 2024 Posted July 31, 2024 (edited) On 7/27/2024 at 8:25 PM, Longshot97 said: Eighth watched in disbelief. The creature was acting...like a man. Acting as though it hadn't mercilessly slaughtered dozens of people. As though it hadn't twisted half of those into mindless, bloodless abominations. And whatever these three... things were. Eighth kept his eyes pointedly away from them. They simply stood there, fixated eerily on him. The Mindless moved efficiently, clearing out cruor and corpses alike. Somehow, this shallow semblance of hospitality was more disturbing then the violence before. Eighth almost preferred having the demon's nature unveiled than this...this farce. Misunderstanding? What was there to misunderstand? First things first. Eighth strode to the table, gently setting Eza down on her cloak, ignoring the man's offer. It was petty, but only slightly so. Her pulse was still weak, and, if possible, her breathing felt even shallower. She didn't even stir as he slipped his waterskin under her head, or probed the cut on her arm. Thank the Father, the bloodflow had slowed. Eighth longed to do nothing more than slump into a seat. His back felt slick with blood, and his head ached abominably. He remained standing, however. They may have barely escaped the Bloodless, but Eighth felt that this man was by far the greater danger. His left hand rested casually at hip level, where his blade was secured beneath his coat. His machete had refused to unsheathe - he eyed the shadowcat, still lounging on the floor - but Eza's knife was still tucked loosely into his belt. His other hand tensed, priming the trigger to his blowpipes, still hidden under his sleeve. Seiju crouched low at his shoulder, and he felt his legs steady beneath him. "Medicine will not help this," Eighth said slowly. His voice remained flat, still as a tidepool "She is exhausted, and not a little hurt. There is damage we cannot reach. But I have seen worlds where men restore others at a mere touch." He glanced over at Asylum. "Can you do anything for her?" “A worldhopper eh?” Asylum said, flipping through their book. “Though I can’t really do it with a simple touch, I’ll see what I can do.” As they flipped through their book, they started whispering to themself. “I don’t have the ingredients for herbal magic so I guess my only option is…” they shut the book and walked over to the vampire who had been lurking in the corner. “Get me a prisoner.” Then looking back towards Eza and her new friend. “Find someone who was on death row.” Hopefully that will ease their conscious. They walked back towards the man as the vampire burned bendalloy and sped away. They heard a cough coming from Pestilence. “Oh yes, I forgot to introduce these three.” Asylum motioned towards the demons. “These are the other three horsemen of the apocalypse. Say hi.” ”Hello“ “Didn’t you say your name was Death. who’s this Asylum“ ”Do we or do we not have horses?“ “Hold your horses. I’ll get to all that, but now is not the time. we have visitors. “But we don’t have any horses!“ “I agree, what is up with the horses?“ ”The skinny one has a point.“ ”There are no horses!” Asylum yelled. “‘Hold your horses’ is a saying meaning wait! The horses are metaphorical, just how you are metaphorical horsemen! Got it?” “Oh, that makes sense.“ “I’m still confused.“ ”Oh, so it’s like a pun.“ Everyone looked towards War. “Oh no” Asylum said quietly. “What’s a pun?“ “Well for example, Famine, would you say you’re hungry?“ “Well, I’ve never needed to eat before.“ “Could you say you’re so hungry you could eat a horse.“ “Oh!, because that’s a reference to what we were talking about but also a thing people say.“ “Exactly!“ Asylum’s fist tightened around their book. “War, how did you even learn about puns?” ”There was this guy telling a lot of them, and for some reason everyone around him really wanted to kill him, so I had to check it out.“ ”I can see why.” Pestilence coughed again. ”You ok Pestilence? Your voice is sounding a little hoarse.“ Suddenly, there was a knife against War’s throat. “I did not summon you here to make jokes about horses, ok?” Asylum pressed the knife closer. “So if I hear one more horse pun I will send you back to where you came from is that understood?” ”Sorry boss. I don’t want to stirrup any trouble.“ Laughter erupted from the demons. “You win this time.” Asylum lowered the knife. “Be glad I need you alive.” Turning away from the giggling demons, they addressed the man beside Eza. “Sorry about them, they’re a necessary evil if you will. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on ritual sacrifice?” @Lunamor Edited July 31, 2024 by Stormlightsong 3
Longshot97 he/him Posted August 3, 2024 Posted August 3, 2024 (edited) On 7/31/2024 at 11:07 AM, Stormlightsong said: “A worldhopper eh?” Asylum said, flipping through their book. “Though I can’t really do it with a simple touch, I’ll see what I can do.” As they flipped through their book, they started whispering to themself. “I don’t have the ingredients for herbal magic so I guess my only option is…” they shut the book and walked over to the vampire who had been lurking in the corner. “Get me a prisoner.” Then looking back towards Eza and her new friend. “Find someone who was on death row.” Hopefully that will ease their conscious. Eighth of the Eve frowned. A prisoner? What need had they of a criminal? Was he a healer? He doubted a healer would be found in a prison. But why... No. Surely not. No... His eyes flicked to Eza. A faint expression of pain, twisting a too-pale countenance. Her ribcage barely expanded, and he could barely hear her breath now. His vision seemed to flicker, and suddenly he saw. A prisoner, drained of all life, collapsed on a cell floor. He saw a man on his back, chest torn open, skin covered in arcane sigils inscribed in blood. He saw a withered husk, shriveled beyond humanity, the shadow of a demon looming over it. He shook his head. The Bloodless sped away, faster even than the monstrosity that had nearly killed Eza. Maybe it had killed her. Eighth remembered his uncle, fallen from a cliff on Patji in escaping a nightmaw. There had been no blood shed, no bones broken. Yet he had wasted away, coughing violently, struggling to breathe. He had lasted barely a week, and those final days had been bedridden. Fourth of the Fall had been devastated. Eighth had found her preparing her father's outrigger, determined to navigate to Patji Himself. He had firmly picked her up - kicking and screaming and sobbing the whole way - and carried her to her family's hut, where her grandfather yet clung to life. He had looked at Eighth then, beseeching him in the wordless way of all trappers. Would he watch his child, his only granddaughter, in his absence? Would he protect her from callous circumstance and cruel chance? Would he watch her, guide her, raise her in his absence? And Eighth had nodded. His uncle had died. Right there, as though he had stayed with them for that reason alone. Fall had helped carry the body to the already-afloat outrigger, where they had returned his brother to Patji. And she had remained close to him on the long journey home. Eighth was still staring at Eza, Fall's face lingering in his eyes. He had as good as sworn to care for her. And then? He had abandoned her. He had been forced to turn her aside. His own Father had witnessed his shame, and banished him. Could he ever return with innocent blood on his hands? Well, not innocent. Already doomed to death, in fact. But to give up a living creature to a Depthbringer? But Eza was here, now. She had saved his life, twice now. No, three times. Maybe more. The number was immaterial. He owed her a blooddebt. Yet how would Patji ever accept a demontouched among his Children? The debt of a trapper is no idle promise. Such bold, brash words. On 7/31/2024 at 11:07 AM, Stormlightsong said: They walked back towards the man as the vampire burned bendalloy and sped away. They heard a cough coming from Pestilence. “Oh yes, I forgot to introduce these three.” Asylum motioned towards the demons. “These are the other three horsemen of the apocalypse. Say hi.” ”Hello“ “Didn’t you say your name was Death. who’s this Asylum“ ”Do we or do we not have horses?“ “Hold your horses. I’ll get to all that, but now is not the time. we have visitors. “But we don’t have any horses!“ “I agree, what is up with the horses?“ ”The skinny one has a point.“ ”There are no horses!” Asylum yelled. “‘Hold your horses’ is a saying meaning wait! The horses are metaphorical, just how you are metaphorical horsemen! Got it?” “Oh, that makes sense.“ “I’m still confused.“ ”Oh, so it’s like a pun.“ Everyone looked towards War. “Oh no” Asylum said quietly. “What’s a pun?“ “Well for example, Famine, would you say you’re hungry?“ “Well, I’ve never needed to eat before.“ “Could you say you’re so hungry you could eat a horse.“ “Oh!, because that’s a reference to what we were talking about but also a thing people say.“ “Exactly!“ Asylum’s fist tightened around their book. “War, how did you even learn about puns?” ”There was this guy telling a lot of them, and for some reason everyone around him really wanted to kill him, so I had to check it out.“ ”I can see why.” Pestilence coughed again. ”You ok Pestilence? Your voice is sounding a little hoarse.“ Suddenly, there was a knife against War’s throat. “I did not summon you here to make jokes about horses, ok?” Asylum pressed the knife closer. “So if I hear one more horse pun I will send you back to where you came from is that understood?” ”Sorry boss. I don’t want to stirrup any trouble.“ Laughter erupted from the demons. “You win this time.” Asylum lowered the knife. “Be glad I need you alive.” Turning away from the giggling demons, they addressed the man beside Eza. “Sorry about them, they’re a necessary evil if you will. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on ritual sacrifice?” Eighth paid the demons little attention. He yet stood, grappling silently with the impossible. The choice was obvious. Eza was here, dying now. He owed her everything. But... Does that have to mean my home? Eighth stared at Eza. Father, but she looked like Fall. He stared, holding her life in his clenched fists. And he felt something break. Eighth bowed his head. In the distance, a loud crash echoed, like solid thunder. It shook the room, jarring Eighth. Just as well. It hid the shaking of his shoulders. I am never returning home. Asylum stepped from his Soulless with a glower, sheathing his knife. “Sorry about them,” he said smoothly. “They’re a necessary evil if you will. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on ritual sacrifice?” Eighth reached out, cradling Eza’s hand. Her pulse barely reached him. He did not raise his head. His eyes burned, but he did not blink, his cheeks dry. He had known all along. Yet his voice came out in a hollow whisper, dry and hoarse. “Do it.” Quote Sorry for the late response. Final exams came like a freight train and blasted my schedule somewhere into a different timezone. Thankfully, I just got off my flight, and am now in the process of refinding it (that wasn't a joke. I actually finished writing this on a plane). I also found this emotional beat rather difficult to write. Hopefully it lands with some measure of impact. At the very least, I think I finally got it genuine to Eighth's character. [EDIT] @Koloss17 in the interest of bringing Perses into play, bronzesense could be a useful option. If it so happens that Perses cannot detect Asylum's Talent via bronzesense, he may be able to detect Eighth's unsealed ironmind being filled, or his Aviar bond. These are Cosmeric magics at play. Aside from those, we have a Lurcher, Pewterarm+Skimmer, strange Cognitive Shadows, and a Windrunner present. Probably plenty for Perses to investigate. It would also be really fun to see a vampire get utterly torn to pieces by Perses. Maybe I'm overestimating his abilities, but he has the magical equivalent to a weaponized food processor in his Awakened cloak, not to mention A-Steel and A-Iron. At the very least, the fight would be interesting (not to pressure you any which way. Just idle thoughts). @Stormlightsong @Lunamor Edited August 7, 2024 by Longshot97 Relevant information 3
Stormlightsong Posted August 8, 2024 Posted August 8, 2024 On 8/3/2024 at 1:29 AM, Longshot97 said: Eighth of the Eve frowned. A prisoner? What need had they of a criminal? Was he a healer? He doubted a healer would be found in a prison. But why... No. Surely not. No... His eyes flicked to Eza. A faint expression of pain, twisting a too-pale countenance. Her ribcage barely expanded, and he could barely hear her breath now. His vision seemed to flicker, and suddenly he saw. A prisoner, drained of all life, collapsed on a cell floor. He saw a man on his back, chest torn open, skin covered in arcane sigils inscribed in blood. He saw a withered husk, shriveled beyond humanity, the shadow of a demon looming over it. He shook his head. The Bloodless sped away, faster even than the monstrosity that had nearly killed Eza. Maybe it had killed her. Eighth remembered his uncle, fallen from a cliff on Patji in escaping a nightmaw. There had been no blood shed, no bones broken. Yet he had wasted away, coughing violently, struggling to breathe. He had lasted barely a week, and those final days had been bedridden. Fourth of the Fall had been devastated. Eighth had found her preparing her father's outrigger, determined to navigate to Patji Himself. He had firmly picked her up - kicking and screaming and sobbing the whole way - and carried her to her family's hut, where her grandfather yet clung to life. He had looked at Eighth then, beseeching him in the wordless way of all trappers. Would he watch his child, his only granddaughter, in his absence? Would he protect her from callous circumstance and cruel chance? Would he watch her, guide her, raise her in his absence? And Eighth had nodded. His uncle had died. Right there, as though he had stayed with them for that reason alone. Fall had helped carry the body to the already-afloat outrigger, where they had returned his brother to Patji. And she had remained close to him on the long journey home. Eighth was still staring at Eza, Fall's face lingering in his eyes. He had as good as sworn to care for her. And then? He had abandoned her. He had been forced to turn her aside. His own Father had witnessed his shame, and banished him. Could he ever return with innocent blood on his hands? Well, not innocent. Already doomed to death, in fact. But to give up a living creature to a Depthbringer? But Eza was here, now. She had saved his life, twice now. No, three times. Maybe more. The number was immaterial. He owed her a blooddebt. Yet how would Patji ever accept a demontouched among his Children? The debt of a trapper is no idle promise. Such bold, brash words. Eighth paid the demons little attention. He yet stood, grappling silently with the impossible. The choice was obvious. Eza was here, dying now. He owed her everything. But... Does that have to mean my home? Eighth stared at Eza. Father, but she looked like Fall. He stared, holding her life in his clenched fists. And he felt something break. Eighth bowed his head. In the distance, a loud crash echoed, like solid thunder. It shook the room, jarring Eighth. Just as well. It hid the shaking of his shoulders. I am never returning home. Asylum stepped from his Soulless with a glower, sheathing his knife. “Sorry about them,” he said smoothly. “They’re a necessary evil if you will. Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on ritual sacrifice?” Eighth reached out, cradling Eza’s hand. Her pulse barely reached him. He did not raise his head. His eyes burned, but he did not blink, his cheeks dry. He had known all along. Yet his voice came out in a hollow whisper, dry and hoarse. “Do it.” @Stormlightsong @Lunamor Asylum looked at the man for a moment before saying, “Okay. A little over dramatic though; It’s not like you’re killing someone.” Asylum scrunched their face in thought. “Oh. Well I guess- I mean they were already going to die if I didn’t do all this so it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong here.” More thought. “Look I don’t really have a choice in the matter either, part of the deal I made included…” they gestured vaguely to the surrounding area. “…This.” The door opened as the Vampire slipped back in holding a man over its shoulder. Blood dripped from the beast’s mouth and from the man’s neck. “Thank for incapacitating him for me, that will make this all go much smoother.” Asylum sat the unconscious man opposite of Eza and placed their spell book between them. After a bit of flipping they found the page labeled “Vitality transfer” Sitting down perpendicular to the book and two unconscious bodies, Asylum set up the spell. They held one hand of each by the wrist and found the heart beats. Eza’s was slow and quiet. For a moment Asylum felt sad, then sadness changed into unwavering attention as they spoke the incantation. They felt as the life force of the prisoner flowed into their veins. For a moment they thought of keeping it, using to prepare for their revenge, but they had a promise to keep. The power flowed out of them and into Eza. Color returned to her cheeks, and her heart rate was strong. Asylum looked over to the other side of the table to see a dry and pale body. It was cold and held no heart beat, no soul, no value. They dropped the pale wrist and gently cupped the other. “Welcome back my little raven.” @Lunamor 3
Lunamor she/her Posted August 9, 2024 Posted August 9, 2024 (edited) 5 hours ago, Stormlightsong said: Asylum looked at the man for a moment before saying, “Okay. A little over dramatic though; It’s not like you’re killing someone.” Asylum scrunched their face in thought. “Oh. Well I guess- I mean they were already going to die if I didn’t do all this so it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong here.” More thought. “Look I don’t really have a choice in the matter either, part of the deal I made included…” they gestured vaguely to the surrounding area. “…This.” The door opened as the Vampire slipped back in holding a man over its shoulder. Blood dripped from the beast’s mouth and from the man’s neck. “Thank for incapacitating him for me, that will make this all go much smoother.” Asylum sat the unconscious man opposite of Eza and placed their spell book between them. After a bit of flipping they found the page labeled “Vitality transfer” Sitting down perpendicular to the book and two unconscious bodies, Asylum set up the spell. They held one hand of each by the wrist and found the heart beats. Eza’s was slow and quiet. For a moment Asylum felt sad, then sadness changed into unwavering attention as they spoke the incantation. They felt as the life force of the prisoner flowed into their veins. For a moment they thought of keeping it, using to prepare for their revenge, but they had a promise to keep. The power flowed out of them and into Eza. Color returned to her cheeks, and her heart rate was strong. Asylum looked over to the other side of the table to see a dry and pale body. It was cold and held no heart beat, no soul, no value. They dropped the pale wrist and gently cupped the other. “Welcome back my little raven.” @Lunamor Eza had never swam before. There wasn't much opportunity for that when you lived in the middle of landlocked cities. She'd overheard someone talk about it before, though. They'd been an older kid, probably a few years older than she was at the time. Claimed to have lived in Elendel and had the fancy clothes to prove it- Eza still had his cuff links. He'd been trying to impress a girl with his tales of heroism, bragging about the adventures he'd had while sailing in the bay. Delivering goods and tying various types of knots turned out to be a rather boring topic, and it had soon become obvious that he was losing the girl's attention. He quickly switched to a more entertaining tale. It didn't necessarily highlight his competence, but it was thrilling none the less. Both Eza and the subject of his affections were drawn in by his story, for he told of something dangerous. Suspenseful. Terrifying. He'd described drowning. One day, the weather was worse than expected. It had gotten windy, really windy. The sea was churned up into violent waves that battered against his ship, pummeling its sides with all of the fury it could muster. The boat held strong, as it was of the finest quality his father could buy. Just as the storm was about to abate, however, a final, massive wave seemed to swallow up the sky. Not even his expensive ship could stand against it, and it was tipped over. Everything on the deck was swallowed up by the sea, including its valiant "captain". It was hard to stay afloat when the waves tried to pull you under the freezing cold water. When shattered wooden planks were thrown at your head, when monsters of the depths snapped at your feet. The boy grew tired, and eventually began to sink. The waters enveloped him completely, and he could hold his breath no longer. Water rushed into his lungs, and he began to suffocate. Despite the wetness filling his chest, it burned. His body desperately knew that it needed air but it was nowhere to be found. He tried to flail his arms around, but was already so cold that moving was hard. Everything started to get dark as he nearly slipped into unconsciousness. He knew it was over. Nothing could save him. Well, apart from a dolphin. Apparently, the animal had noticed his "obvious worthiness" and propelled him to shore before he died. She couldn't breath. Her lungs burned. She wanted to move, flail about, do something, but she couldn't. It was too cold, too dark. Eza must be drowning, but there was no dolphin coming to save her. She must not be very worthy. *** Eza was hurled from the dark of unconsciousness to the dark of eyelids blocking out the light. She could move again. Instinctively, she began gasping, greedily gulping up the air. It didn't take long for her to realize that this was pointless; the burning sensation had left her chest. She felt fine. Why did she feel fine? Was she dead? "Welcome back my little raven." The familiar voice dragged her fully back into awareness, and her eyes snapped open. Her hand went to the handle of one of her twin knives; the other was missing. The weapon stayed in its sheath for now. The voice's owner could kill her in a heartbeat. She looked... different. Older, somehow. Her limbs were less like twigs. She now resembled a younger teenager- albeit a very short one- rather than a child. Her skin was flusher, no longer sickly pale. She felt stronger, like she'd eaten a large meal earlier that day. It was disorienting. Lum- no, Asylum, loomed over her, cupping her wrist. She immediately snatched it away, sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Eight was the first thing she searched for. He had to be alright. She needed him to be alright. A small part of the panic overwhelming her from waking up in the monster's lair was dispersed when she saw that he was standing next to her and seemed to fortunately be alive. He was certainly injured, but at least didn't look worse that he had before. For some reason, Asylum had apparently decided to spare him. Three horrific beasts were in the middle of the room, and the sickening feeling she got from a passing glance made her avert her eyes. She was already feeling terrified, and who knew what darkness they could spread. There were some corpses sweeping the floor and another one of those things that had nearly killed her standing nearby. The blood dripping from its mouth was probably from the next thing she noticed, a pale, dry body with a bloodied throat. Why was it next to her on the table? Surely there was a better place to store the remains of the monster's meal. It looked really weird, too. The other victims of Asylum had looked less shriveled than that. Maybe it was all dried up from losing its blood. And how had she been revived? She'd been dying. She didn't remember much, but she could still feel the sensation of her life slipping away. You couldn't bind a wound caused by nearly ripping your core in half- there wasn't anything that could be reached externally. That must mean Asylum had used some sort of magic to save her. But what... Her eyes fell on the withered, lifeless man next to her. No. No. "What did you do to me?" Her voice was quiet as she desperately tried to hide the fear it held from Asylum. Her wide eyes stared into their blackened ones. Something in her hoped for some sort of explanation, some reason why everything was actually okay. But she already knew the answer to her question. Asylum had done what monsters did. And now they'd made her a monster, too. @Longshot97 Quote To clarify, she looks closer to her actual age because I figured that the vitality transfer would negate some of the effects malnutrition was having on her. Not all of the impacts have been removed since only the more recent/current ones were fixed, so she's still tiny 'n stuff and still looks a little bit younger than she is. Edit: Also, just in case you didn’t see it Koloss since tags don’t work in quote boxes, Longshot edited their most recent post with some potential ideas for Percy. @Koloss17 Edited August 9, 2024 by Lunamor I keep wanting to add stuff 2
Longshot97 he/him Posted August 11, 2024 Posted August 11, 2024 (edited) On 8/8/2024 at 6:12 PM, Stormlightsong said: Asylum looked at the man for a moment before saying, “Okay. A little over dramatic though; It’s not like you’re killing someone.” Asylum scrunched their face in thought. “Oh. Well I guess- I mean they were already going to die if I didn’t do all this so it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong here.” More thought. “Look I don’t really have a choice in the matter either, part of the deal I made included…” they gestured vaguely to the surrounding area. “…This.” The door opened as the Vampire slipped back in holding a man over its shoulder. Blood dripped from the beast’s mouth and from the man’s neck. “Thank for incapacitating him for me, that will make this all go much smoother.” Asylum sat the unconscious man opposite of Eza and placed their spell book between them. After a bit of flipping they found the page labeled “Vitality transfer” Sitting down perpendicular to the book and two unconscious bodies, Asylum set up the spell. They held one hand of each by the wrist and found the heart beats. Eza’s was slow and quiet. For a moment Asylum felt sad, then sadness changed into unwavering attention as they spoke the incantation. They felt as the life force of the prisoner flowed into their veins. For a moment they thought of keeping it, using to prepare for their revenge, but they had a promise to keep. The power flowed out of them and into Eza. Color returned to her cheeks, and her heart rate was strong. Asylum looked over to the other side of the table to see a dry and pale body. It was cold and held no heart beat, no soul, no value. They dropped the pale wrist and gently cupped the other. “Welcome back my little raven.” The demon taunted him. Eighth of the Eve stood quietly, footsteps approaching outside. Stony silence masked his face, but he heard his jaw creak as his teeth clenched. His choice was made. He was yet condemned. Must the creature so openly mock it? What more did you expect? Fool. "Look, I don’t really have a choice in the matter either," Asylum said. "Part of the deal I made included…” they gestured vaguely to the surrounding area. "This." A...deal? Eighth did not frown, but his brow creased slightly. Of course, Beings of the Depths did not walk this world casually. They were summoned, or rarely, sent. But which had brought Asylum Smedry here, now? The wooden floor groaned slightly as the Bloodless strode in, limp body in hand. Asylum rose to greet it, taking the prisoner with little struggle. He seated the man opposite Eza, slumped against the wall. Eza barely stirred. The blood was draining from her cheeks, and her chest had stopped rising altogether. Eighth felt ice enter his veins, pulsing through him to the beat of his heart in his ears. Asylum set his book between the two, flipping pages, stopping at a given section. Eighth ignored the text, annotated neatly with sigils and cyphers he could somehow make out. His eyes fixed on the prisoner, refusing to look away. The prisoner was dressed in loose garments. No, not quite. His clothes hung loosely about a famished frame. Not starved, merely...undernourished. A brocaded vest gaped open over an enveloping shirt, and a fine metal buckle belted trousers over the shirt. His hair hung limply about an angular face. He looked so...normal. Innocent. He may have been imprisoned, but no scars marred his skin, no signs of fighting graced his features. A ring pierced one ear, conspicuously ornate against a plain ensemble. A token of affection? From a wife, or perhaps a mother? No. Don't think about that. Don't imagine that. One of the man's hands rose, held in Asylum's as the demon frowned at his book. Then words began rolling from his tongue. Ancient, unknowable, yet somehow familiar all the same. But Eighth could not look away from the unfortunate prisoner. Before his very eyes, the unconscious man seemed to fold upon himself. Already-prominent bone pressed suddenly against skin, sharp and prominent. His complexion paled, and the hair on his head grayed from root to tip. Eighth of the Eve watched helplessly as the very life was drained from the prisoner's body. As wrinkles emerged, slowly suffusing the man's face, his eyes shot upon. Cataracts steadily clouded his pupils, but his gaze still fixed on Eighth. His mouth moved painfully, chest heaving to produce words. Still, the only sound to escape was a faint wheeze. Yet Eighth heard his soundless plea, a cry for help as piercing as any scream. His other hand trembled, as though to reach for Eighth. Eighth of the Eve did not move. Despair flooded the now-ancient man's face. His jaw worked silently, chest laboring with his breath. The vigor of life fell from the man's skin, the bloodied neck his brightest spot of color. Tears formed briefly in the man's eyes, only to vanish as his body hoarded precious moisture. But even that would not be enough. The haunting rattle of the man's final breath reached Eighth. And the corpse slumped bonelessly against the wall. Yet the eyes remained open, locked with Eighth's. Staring. Pleading. Hoping. Accusing. Condemning. The man finally disappeared in a blurry haze. On 8/8/2024 at 7:52 PM, Lunamor said: Eza was hurled from the dark of unconsciousness to the dark of eyelids blocking out the light. She could move again. Instinctively, she began gasping, greedily gulping up the air. It didn't take long for her to realize that this was pointless; the burning sensation had left her chest. She felt fine. Why did she feel fine? Was she dead? "Welcome back my little raven." The familiar voice dragged her fully back into awareness, and her eyes snapped open. Her hand went to the handle of one of her twin knives; the other was missing. The weapon stayed in its sheath for now. The voice's owner could kill her in a heartbeat. She looked... different. Older, somehow. Her limbs were less like twigs. She now resembled a younger teenager- albeit a very short one- rather than a child. Her skin was flusher, no longer sickly pale. She felt stronger, like she'd eaten a large meal earlier that day. It was disorienting. Lum- no, Asylum, loomed over her, cupping her wrist. She immediately snatched it away, sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Eight was the first thing she searched for. He had to be alright. She needed him to be alright. A small part of the panic overwhelming her from waking up in the monster's lair was dispersed when she saw that he was standing next to her and seemed to fortunately be alive. He was certainly injured, but at least didn't look worse that he had before. For some reason, Asylum had apparently decided to spare him. Three horrific beasts were in the middle of the room, and the sickening feeling she got from a passing glance made her avert her eyes. She was already feeling terrified, and who knew what darkness they could spread. There were some corpses sweeping the floor and another one of those things that had nearly killed her standing nearby. The blood dripping from its mouth was probably from the next thing she noticed, a pale, dry body with a bloodied throat. Why was it next to her on the table? Surely there was a better place to store the remains of the monster's meal. It looked really weird, too. The other victims of Asylum had looked less shriveled than that. Maybe it was all dried up from losing its blood. And how had she been revived? She'd been dying. She didn't remember much, but she could still feel the sensation of her life slipping away. You couldn't bind a wound caused by nearly ripping your core in half- there wasn't anything that could be reached externally. That must mean Asylum had used some sort of magic to save her. But what... Her eyes fell on the withered, lifeless man next to her. No. No. "What did you do to me?" Her voice was quiet as she desperately tried to hide the fear it held from Asylum. Her wide eyes stared into their blackened ones. Something in her hoped for some sort of explanation, some reason why everything was actually okay. But she already knew the answer to her question. Asylum had done what monsters did. And now they'd made her a monster, too. Eza's eyes flew open, and she gasped loudly, like an apprentice resurfacing from the brink of drowning. She fumbled at her belt, recoiling violently from Asylum. Eighth looked at her, blinking tears away. And stared. Eza was...gone. Before him sat not a girl experienced beyond her years, but a young woman in truth. Short, yes - tiny, in fact - but with developed features and a body well into maturity. Eighth's heart twisted as he saw the last of Fall fade from the girl before him. Gone. Forever lost to him. Forever beyond his reach. Forever alone. Gone. Eza remained where she was, eyes flickering about the room. That aged, knowing stare no longer stood out in a child's face, but rested naturally in her hardened visage. Her eyes took him in, then the room, then its occupants. She barely paused on the Soulless, calmly taking in the Bloodless and Mindless stationed about her. Finally, she glanced down, across her table. Eighth closed his eyes. He knew her. She was no fool. She would not miss this. Yet he prayed anyway. Please, let her not notice. Please... For a few moments, silence. And then: "What did you do to me?" Eighth's heart broke at her voice. That fear, that horror. That knowledge, and that hope. That twisted delusion at another reason, a different rationale. That damned hope. He slowly opened his eyes. "You collapsed," Eighth said hoarsely, "after sealing that creature away. You would not awaken, not even to his summons." He gestured towards Asylum, and to the cat approaching the table. "I heeded them in your stead. We had no choice..." His voice tightened painfully in his throat. "I had no choice..." The sudden weight of it all came crashing down. His legs buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the bench behind him. His blade clattered against the worn wood. His trapper's calm fell, blown aside like Aviar in a hurricane. His hands shook before him. His sight blurred with tears. And yet those eyes would not vanish. He could feel them even now, staring into him. Pinning him in place. Boring into his very soul. "Forgive me," he whispered. To him. To her. To them. To them all. Quote Yeah, it's dramatic. I don't know. It felt right. Oh. I'm a moron. Pings don't work in quote boxes? That...explains a lot, actually. That was a powerful reaction @Lunamor. I applaud you. Perfectly in-character, poignant without crossing to the overdramatic. I love it. It's probably past time for me to outline these terms in Eighth's head: - Mindless: his term for Asylum's zombies - Bloodless: His term for Asylum's vampires - Soulless: His term for the other three Horsemen - Shadowcat: what he calls Asylum's black cat. I couldn't think of a better name lol @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Edited August 12, 2024 by Longshot97 Tweaking a few word choices. Somehow misspelled "miss" as "kiss." Glad I caught that. 2
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 13, 2024 Author Posted August 13, 2024 Perses tapped bronzesense. And he was immediately hit by a wave of power. Tendrils of power curled through the air, gripping everything in the area. He was familiar with this power, but never at this scale. What did Asylum Smedry do? tapping lifesense, he sought out people in the constabulary. In front of the constabulary there was a weak guard of people. However, their life signatures were off. Twisted. Like his. Hemalurgists? With a quick burst of steelsense, he quickly dispelled that notion. The only metal they had on them were their clothes, with no spikes to be seen. As Perses walked towards them, one of the people immediately lashed out. They quickly fell to his cloak, tearing them apart. Yet seeing their comrade die didn’t deter the other guards, who mindlessly approached, falling just as quickly as the first. They were more creatures than people. What was going on? Perses marched into the constabulary with a purpose. Quickly upon entering, he had to quickly dodge out of the way of yet another figure. This one was much faster and stronger than the others. His cloak cut and slashed, but the cuts quickly healed. No Stormlight, no feruchemy. Perses pulled out his pistol and shot at the creature, its head exploding in a shower of blood. The body laid on the ground, unmoving. He had to find Asylum, and quickly. A crash sounded at the end of the hallway. A radiant, with Stormlight flowing from them. “What are you doing here?” @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner
Scars of Hathsin he/him Posted August 14, 2024 Posted August 14, 2024 8 hours ago, Koloss17 said: Perses tapped bronzesense. And he was immediately hit by a wave of power. Tendrils of power curled through the air, gripping everything in the area. He was familiar with this power, but never at this scale. What did Asylum Smedry do? tapping lifesense, he sought out people in the constabulary. In front of the constabulary there was a weak guard of people. However, their life signatures were off. Twisted. Like his. Hemalurgists? With a quick burst of steelsense, he quickly dispelled that notion. The only metal they had on them were their clothes, with no spikes to be seen. As Perses walked towards them, one of the people immediately lashed out. They quickly fell to his cloak, tearing them apart. Yet seeing their comrade die didn’t deter the other guards, who mindlessly approached, falling just as quickly as the first. They were more creatures than people. What was going on? Perses marched into the constabulary with a purpose. Quickly upon entering, he had to quickly dodge out of the way of yet another figure. This one was much faster and stronger than the others. His cloak cut and slashed, but the cuts quickly healed. No Stormlight, no feruchemy. Perses pulled out his pistol and shot at the creature, its head exploding in a shower of blood. The body laid on the ground, unmoving. He had to find Asylum, and quickly. A crash sounded at the end of the hallway. A radiant, with Stormlight flowing from them. “What are you doing here?” @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury Arranis hears something, the noise of a gun. "Storms" he mutters to himself. Please don't be a vampire with a gun, they are bad enough already. A mental image appears of something like that and he shivers. He glances at his spren, who was looking up the hallway, It is not a vampire, but something else. He follows her gaze, which roamed down the hallway. "What are you doing here" echoes down the hallway from the figure at the doorway, a figure who he had been hunting, a certain figure with spikes in his eyes and what looked like an awakened cloak. Perses. He grins. "I could ask the same question from you" he yells back down the hallway. Glancing back at the figure of the vampire that was behind him, still unconscious. @Koloss17
Longshot97 he/him Posted August 14, 2024 Posted August 14, 2024 (edited) Quote Alright. Time for another fun round of Minion Math™. According to @Stormlightsong, there were 4 zombies guarding the main entrance, 2 vampires wandering the office, and 1 vampire hunting down Arranis. Fenna and Arranis have already encountered the hunting vampire, and Eighth and Eza locked one of the wandering vampires away. So, which vampire did Perses kill? Given that Perses encountered the vampire before Arranis, it probably wasn't the hunting vampire, since Arranis just ran from it. All told, it was probably the second wandering vampires whose head Perses blew off. Oh, and all zombies guarding the entrance have been turned into mincemeat. This leaves Asylum with 2 zombies, 1 vampire, and 3...specters? Ghouls? 3 possessed bodies, is what I mean. Edited August 14, 2024 by Longshot97
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 14, 2024 Author Posted August 14, 2024 16 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said: Arranis, Smokestack Constalbury "What are you doing here" echoes down the hallway from the figure at the doorway, a figure who he had been hunting, a certain figure with spikes in his eyes and what looked like an awakened cloak. Perses. He grins. "I could ask the same question from you" he yells back down the hallway. Glancing back at the figure of the vampire that was behind him, still unconscious. @Koloss17 Perses sighed. He really didn’t want to fight a radiant right now. “Listen. I’m not here for you. So long as you stay out of my way, I don’t mean you any harm.” ”Speaking of, what in Harmony’s name happened here?”
Steel Speedster ♂ Posted August 14, 2024 Posted August 14, 2024 57 minutes ago, Koloss17 said: Perses sighed. He really didn’t want to fight a radiant right now. “Listen. I’m not here for you. So long as you stay out of my way, I don’t mean you any harm.” ”Speaking of, what in Harmony’s name happened here?” Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Stopping halfway across the empty room, Fenna checked her metal reserves. Her pewter was nearly spent, so she unlatched a vial from her belt and downed the contents. Only three left. Just then, a gunshot sounded behind her. Instinctively, Fenna stored weight and spun around, light on her feet. There were voices back in the hall from whence she had come. Fenna crossed back to the hole she had busted through the wall, skimming lightly over the debris on pewter enhanced feet. She slid back into the hall where she froze. Her Radiant acquaintance was facing down the hall away from her, and beyond him was the form of another man, enveloped in a dark coat with trailing tassels, a headless body at his feet. Quote @Koloss17 Since it’s relevant to Perses, I’ll mention what metal Fenna has on her, in case it’s helpful. Her ironminds, which are on her ankles, are the largest pieces of metal on her, but they pierce the skin. (I’m not sure how that would affect Perses’ enhanced iron/steelsight, but you probably do.) Then, there are obviously her vials of pewter, which are latched to her belt securely. The latches themselves are also made of metal. @Koloss17 @Scars of Hathsin 1
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 19, 2024 Author Posted August 19, 2024 (edited) On 8/14/2024 at 6:36 PM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Stopping halfway across the empty room, Fenna checked her metal reserves. Her pewter was nearly spent, so she unlatched a vial from her belt and downed the contents. Only three left. Just then, a gunshot sounded behind her. Instinctively, Fenna stored weight and spun around, light on her feet. There were voices back in the hall from whence she had come. Fenna crossed back to the hole she had busted through the wall, skimming lightly over the debris on pewter enhanced feet. She slid back into the hall where she froze. Her Radiant acquaintance was facing down the hall away from her, and beyond him was the form of another man, enveloped in a dark coat with trailing tassels, a headless body at his feet. @Koloss17 @Scars of Hathsin Perses noticed someone behind the radiant. With bronze, it was clear that they were burning pewter. Using steelsight however, painted a different story. Metal littered their body. A truly enormous amount of vials were discreetly tucked away, with bands piercing her skin. Upon using bronzesense further, the full picture was revealed. They weren’t just a pewterarm. They were a twinborn. A-Pewter and F-Iron. Not only that, she was a pewter addict. Savants were few and far between, and he’d only encountered one or two in his time. They were always flaring, and their allomancy felt stronger. What were either of them doing here? ”You know what? I don’t have time for this. I have to talk to the person in charge of all this.” With Bronzesense, it was clear as crystal where Asylum was. Their powers emanated from them, growing in strength around its center. Where a bulb of signals were, with not only Asylum’s, but many other powers resided. Perses turned around and began stalking towards Smedry. Quote A bit of a note for y’all: Perses is really good at skulking, as he has learned to mitigate nearly all noise from his footsteps. Obviously he makes a scene when he needs to, but he has naturally very quiet footsteps. @Stormlightsong @Lunamor @Longshot97 @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner Edited August 19, 2024 by Koloss17
Stormlightsong Posted August 20, 2024 Posted August 20, 2024 (edited) On 8/8/2024 at 8:52 PM, Lunamor said: Eza had never swam before. There wasn't much opportunity for that when you lived in the middle of landlocked cities. She'd overheard someone talk about it before, though. They'd been an older kid, probably a few years older than she was at the time. Claimed to have lived in Elendel and had the fancy clothes to prove it- Eza still had his cuff links. He'd been trying to impress a girl with his tales of heroism, bragging about the adventures he'd had while sailing in the bay. Delivering goods and tying various types of knots turned out to be a rather boring topic, and it had soon become obvious that he was losing the girl's attention. He quickly switched to a more entertaining tale. It didn't necessarily highlight his competence, but it was thrilling none the less. Both Eza and the subject of his affections were drawn in by his story, for he told of something dangerous. Suspenseful. Terrifying. He'd described drowning. One day, the weather was worse than expected. It had gotten windy, really windy. The sea was churned up into violent waves that battered against his ship, pummeling its sides with all of the fury it could muster. The boat held strong, as it was of the finest quality his father could buy. Just as the storm was about to abate, however, a final, massive wave seemed to swallow up the sky. Not even his expensive ship could stand against it, and it was tipped over. Everything on the deck was swallowed up by the sea, including its valiant "captain". It was hard to stay afloat when the waves tried to pull you under the freezing cold water. When shattered wooden planks were thrown at your head, when monsters of the depths snapped at your feet. The boy grew tired, and eventually began to sink. The waters enveloped him completely, and he could hold his breath no longer. Water rushed into his lungs, and he began to suffocate. Despite the wetness filling his chest, it burned. His body desperately knew that it needed air but it was nowhere to be found. He tried to flail his arms around, but was already so cold that moving was hard. Everything started to get dark as he nearly slipped into unconsciousness. He knew it was over. Nothing could save him. Well, apart from a dolphin. Apparently, the animal had noticed his "obvious worthiness" and propelled him to shore before he died. She couldn't breath. Her lungs burned. She wanted to move, flail about, do something, but she couldn't. It was too cold, too dark. Eza must be drowning, but there was no dolphin coming to save her. She must not be very worthy. *** Eza was hurled from the dark of unconsciousness to the dark of eyelids blocking out the light. She could move again. Instinctively, she began gasping, greedily gulping up the air. It didn't take long for her to realize that this was pointless; the burning sensation had left her chest. She felt fine. Why did she feel fine? Was she dead? "Welcome back my little raven." The familiar voice dragged her fully back into awareness, and her eyes snapped open. Her hand went to the handle of one of her twin knives; the other was missing. The weapon stayed in its sheath for now. The voice's owner could kill her in a heartbeat. She looked... different. Older, somehow. Her limbs were less like twigs. She now resembled a younger teenager- albeit a very short one- rather than a child. Her skin was flusher, no longer sickly pale. She felt stronger, like she'd eaten a large meal earlier that day. It was disorienting. Lum- no, Asylum, loomed over her, cupping her wrist. She immediately snatched it away, sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Eight was the first thing she searched for. He had to be alright. She needed him to be alright. A small part of the panic overwhelming her from waking up in the monster's lair was dispersed when she saw that he was standing next to her and seemed to fortunately be alive. He was certainly injured, but at least didn't look worse that he had before. For some reason, Asylum had apparently decided to spare him. Three horrific beasts were in the middle of the room, and the sickening feeling she got from a passing glance made her avert her eyes. She was already feeling terrified, and who knew what darkness they could spread. There were some corpses sweeping the floor and another one of those things that had nearly killed her standing nearby. The blood dripping from its mouth was probably from the next thing she noticed, a pale, dry body with a bloodied throat. Why was it next to her on the table? Surely there was a better place to store the remains of the monster's meal. It looked really weird, too. The other victims of Asylum had looked less shriveled than that. Maybe it was all dried up from losing its blood. And how had she been revived? She'd been dying. She didn't remember much, but she could still feel the sensation of her life slipping away. You couldn't bind a wound caused by nearly ripping your core in half- there wasn't anything that could be reached externally. That must mean Asylum had used some sort of magic to save her. But what... Her eyes fell on the withered, lifeless man next to her. No. No. "What did you do to me?" Her voice was quiet as she desperately tried to hide the fear it held from Asylum. Her wide eyes stared into their blackened ones. Something in her hoped for some sort of explanation, some reason why everything was actually okay. But she already knew the answer to her question. Asylum had done what monsters did. And now they'd made her a monster, too. @Longshot97 @Koloss17 On 8/11/2024 at 1:33 AM, Longshot97 said: The demon taunted him. Eighth of the Eve stood quietly, footsteps approaching outside. Stony silence masked his face, but he heard his jaw creak as his teeth clenched. His choice was made. He was yet condemned. Must the creature so openly mock it? What more did you expect? Fool. "Look, I don’t really have a choice in the matter either," Asylum said. "Part of the deal I made included…” they gestured vaguely to the surrounding area. "This." A...deal? Eighth did not frown, but his brow creased slightly. Of course, Beings of the Depths did not walk this world casually. They were summoned, or rarely, sent. But which had brought Asylum Smedry here, now? The wooden floor groaned slightly as the Bloodless strode in, limp body in hand. Asylum rose to greet it, taking the prisoner with little struggle. He seated the man opposite Eza, slumped against the wall. Eza barely stirred. The blood was draining from her cheeks, and her chest had stopped rising altogether. Eighth felt ice enter his veins, pulsing through him to the beat of his heart in his ears. Asylum set his book between the two, flipping pages, stopping at a given section. Eighth ignored the text, annotated neatly with sigils and cyphers he could somehow make out. His eyes fixed on the prisoner, refusing to look away. The prisoner was dressed in loose garments. No, not quite. His clothes hung loosely about a famished frame. Not starved, merely...undernourished. A brocaded vest gaped open over an enveloping shirt, and a fine metal buckle belted trousers over the shirt. His hair hung limply about an angular face. He looked so...normal. Innocent. He may have been imprisoned, but no scars marred his skin, no signs of fighting graced his features. A ring pierced one ear, conspicuously ornate against a plain ensemble. A token of affection? From a wife, or perhaps a mother? No. Don't think about that. Don't imagine that. One of the man's hands rose, held in Asylum's as the demon frowned at his book. Then words began rolling from his tongue. Ancient, unknowable, yet somehow familiar all the same. But Eighth could not look away from the unfortunate prisoner. Before his very eyes, the unconscious man seemed to fold upon himself. Already-prominent bone pressed suddenly against skin, sharp and prominent. His complexion paled, and the hair on his head grayed from root to tip. Eighth of the Eve watched helplessly as the very life was drained from the prisoner's body. As wrinkles emerged, slowly suffusing the man's face, his eyes shot upon. Cataracts steadily clouded his pupils, but his gaze still fixed on Eighth. His mouth moved painfully, chest heaving to produce words. Still, the only sound to escape was a faint wheeze. Yet Eighth heard his soundless plea, a cry for help as piercing as any scream. His other hand trembled, as though to reach for Eighth. Eighth of the Eve did not move. Despair flooded the now-ancient man's face. His jaw worked silently, chest laboring with his breath. The vigor of life fell from the man's skin, the bloodied neck his brightest spot of color. Tears formed briefly in the man's eyes, only to vanish as his body hoarded precious moisture. But even that would not be enough. The haunting rattle of the man's final breath reached Eighth. And the corpse slumped bonelessly against the wall. Yet the eyes remained open, locked with Eighth's. Staring. Pleading. Hoping. Accusing. Condemning. The man finally disappeared in a blurry haze. Eza's eyes flew open, and she gasped loudly, like an apprentice resurfacing from the brink of drowning. She fumbled at her belt, recoiling violently from Asylum. Eighth looked at her, blinking tears away. And stared. Eza was...gone. Before him sat not a girl experienced beyond her years, but a young woman in truth. Short, yes - tiny, in fact - but with developed features and a body well into maturity. Eighth's heart twisted as he saw the last of Fall fade from the girl before him. Gone. Forever lost to him. Forever beyond his reach. Forever alone. Gone. Eza remained where she was, eyes flickering about the room. That aged, knowing stare no longer stood out in a child's face, but rested naturally in her hardened visage. Her eyes took him in, then the room, then its occupants. She barely paused on the Soulless, calmly taking in the Bloodless and Mindless stationed about her. Finally, she glanced down, across her table. Eighth closed his eyes. He knew her. She was no fool. She would not miss this. Yet he prayed anyway. Please, let her not notice. Please... For a few moments, silence. And then: "What did you do to me?" Eighth's heart broke at her voice. That fear, that horror. That knowledge, and that hope. That twisted delusion at another reason, a different rationale. That damned hope. He slowly opened his eyes. "You collapsed," Eighth said hoarsely, "after sealing that creature away. You would not awaken, not even to his summons." He gestured towards Asylum, and to the cat approaching the table. "I heeded them in your stead. We had no choice..." His voice tightened painfully in his throat. "I had no choice..." The sudden weight of it all came crashing down. His legs buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the bench behind him. His blade clattered against the worn wood. His trapper's calm fell, blown aside like Aviar in a hurricane. His hands shook before him. His sight blurred with tears. And yet those eyes would not vanish. He could feel them even now, staring into him. Pinning him in place. Boring into his very soul. "Forgive me," he whispered. To him. To her. To them. To them all. @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Asylum saw the terror in Eza’s eyes and was confused. “I did what I had to. I did what made sense.” Asylum raised their voice as the looked towards the withered body. “You think the guy is more important than your life? Would you die in his place? Why? What reason is there?” Asylum looked at Eza’s new friend and it all finally clicked. “You think you’re better than me. You think I am evil and selfish!” They thought about for a second. “Which is fair, but what makes you any better?” Asylum walked around the pair slowly. “You steal. You might say that you need to, or that you need it more than them, but what do you know? Do you care? Do you think about the people that could be harmed by your actions? No! You are selfish and vain. but that’s ok! No one will care for you but yourself.” Asylum smiled and paused before adding the final touch. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. The moment you lost me you went straight to the next Smedry you could find.” They glared daggers into the man seated beside her. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice?” They spat out the last word. “Cousin.” @Koloss17 @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner Edited August 20, 2024 by Stormlightsong 2
Lunamor she/her Posted August 21, 2024 Posted August 21, 2024 (edited) 10 hours ago, Stormlightsong said: Asylum saw the terror in Eza’s eyes and was confused. “I did what I had to. I did what made sense.” Asylum raised their voice as the looked towards the withered body. “You think the guy is more important than your life? Would you die in his place? Why? What reason is there?” Asylum looked at Eza’s new friend and it all finally clicked. “You think you’re better than me. You think I am evil and selfish!” They thought about for a second. “Which is fair, but what makes you any better?” Asylum walked around the pair slowly. “You steal. You might say that you need to, or that you need it more than them, but what do you know? Do you care? Do you think about the people that could be harmed by your actions? No! You are selfish and vain. but that’s ok! No one will care for you but yourself.” Asylum smiled and paused before adding the final touch. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. The moment you lost me you went straight to the next Smedry you could find.” They glared daggers into the man seated beside her. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice?” They spat out the last word. “Cousin.” @Koloss17 @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner Eza stared forwards blankly. She didn't look at the crying Eighth or sneering Asylum. Not at the walking corpses or abominations standing in the center of the room. Not at the man whose life she'd stolen. Not at anything, really. She wasn't supposed to be alive. The man next to her was a criminal, which meant he was like her. She could've easily been one of the prisoners trapped in this Harmony-forsaken building with the monster she'd once called her friend. There wasn't much separating her from that withered husk. Eza was rather surprised that Eighth and Asylum were apparently related, but that feeling failed to escape her subconscious. There wasn't much room for anything but terror. Not only had she been responsible for the death of a man, but now she'd angered someone who could murder her and Eighth on a whim. "I didn't know that Eighth was a Smedry, I'd just blackmailed him to come help me break you out because he looked strong." Her words were quiet, emotionless. She couldn't afford to further show her real emotions right now. Asylum was unstable. Irritating them was dangerous, and her horror and fear seemed to be doing that. She was falling back on her old ways. Staying meek and still was her best chance at staying safe when she couldn't flee. It reminded her of a little black cat she'd once tried to pet. It had stood motionless and silent at the end of an alleyway, as if it were trying to blend into a shadow. It'd scratched her pretty good when she got within swiping range, though. The tiny animal had been quivering in place, tail puffed up and hair standing on end. It was pitiful. It'd made her feel bad for it, although she'd been too young at the time to understand that it was she who was scaring it. Eza decided to add a slight quiver to her own voice. It wasn't hard; she just quit holding the one that was already there back. She finally looked up and met Asylum's eyes. "Thank you for saving me." Her thanks was genuine. That scared her. Had she been given a choice in whether to go through with her revival, she knew which one she would've picked. It wasn't the one good people were supposed to pick. She hadn't actually picked it though, so she couldn't know for sure what she would've done. Eza repeated that to herself internally. She didn't believe that there was a chance she would've done the right thing, but she could pretend to, for now. She turned to her only friend. He was in so much pain. A flash of sorrow crossed her face, but she smothered it. This was not the time for that. This was not the time for Eighth to lose control, either. He needed to calm down before he sent Asylum over the edge. "Eighth, it's alright. If Asylum wanted us to come, there wasn't anything you could've done to stop it." Eza absentmindedly began unwinding the cloth tightly wound around her arm which looked oddly unfamiliar. Asylum was right in their accusations, in a way. She was vain and selfish. She made things that weren't supposed to be hers her own. She didn't take things if it made someone more sad than it made her happy, though. Mother had said that meant it was okay, and she didn't lie to her. Had she been wrong? No, she hadn't been. Asylum of all people didn't know better than she did. But did she really always think through what impact she was having? She stole whenever she saw something she liked. You couldn't ask a stranger passing by on the street what their shiny piece of jewelry meant to them. Maybe it was a wedding ring, or something gifted to them from a friend who had passed away. But in the moment, when her eyes lit up at the sight of something beautiful... well, she didn't really care about that. She also couldn't rely on anyone else to care for her. Eza drew danger; she was a danger herself. She was flanked by evidence of that, one man broken down in tears and another man drained of life. Everyone was better off if she was alone. But she didn't want to be alone. That was what really made her so selfish. Maybe making her into a monster hadn't changed her all that much. @Longshot97 Edited August 21, 2024 by Lunamor 2
Steel Speedster ♂ Posted August 21, 2024 Posted August 21, 2024 (edited) On 8/19/2024 at 8:18 AM, Koloss17 said: Perses noticed someone behind the radiant. With bronze, it was clear that they were burning pewter. Using steelsight however, painted a different story. Metal littered their body. A truly enormous amount of vials were discreetly tucked away, with bands piercing her skin. Upon using bronzesense further, the full picture was revealed. They weren’t just a pewterarm. They were a twinborn. A-Pewter and F-Iron. Not only that, she was a pewter addict. Savants were few and far between, and he’d only encountered one or two in his time. They were always flaring, and their allomancy felt stronger. What were either of them doing here? ”You know what? I don’t have time for this. I have to talk to the person in charge of all this.” With Bronzesense, it was clear as crystal where Asylum was. Their powers emanated from them, growing in strength around its center. Where a bulb of signals were, with not only Asylum’s, but many other powers resided. Perses turned around and began stalking towards Smedry. @Stormlightsong @Lunamor @Longshot97 @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary The man turned and strode purposefully away. Fenna was almost tempted to follow. He, unlike her, seemed to know exactly where he needed to go. On the other hand, he didn't seem like the sort of person who would take kindly to being followed uninvited. The person in charge. That was it: find the constables, if any remained in the building. She had a feeling that that wasn't the same idea that the newcomer had had. Did he mean the person in charge of all the chaos that was going on? Fenna turned and ran back the way she had come, through the hole in the wall, away from the direction the cloaked man had gone. Where would people hide? As far away from the source of these walking corpses as possible. Still, Fenna had no idea exactly where everyone might be. This is really, really stupid, she thought. Then she sprinted towards the wall. She flared pewter and tapped weight, then pushed harder to maintain her speed, and smashed through the wall. She emerged in another hallway, but didn't stop. Immediately, she crashed through the opposite wall and into another room. It was hard to maintain speed at this weight, so Fenna released her ironmind and began storing weight instead. Only pewter allowed her to keep her balance as her momentum sent her shooting forwards. She tapped weight to smash through the next wall, flaring her pewter continually to protect herself. As it was, she tried to ignore the amount of bruises and cuts she would have when this was over. Fenna lost track of how many walls she had gone through as she fell into a rhythm. All she observed of each room was that it was empty, before bashing through the opposite wall. Suddenly, she found herself in a room that was not empty. Fenna tapped weight and dug in her heels, trying to maximize her friction. The floor cracked and fragmented under the strain, but she managed to stop herself before colliding with the group of shocked looking people in the middle of the room, raising weapons. "It's all right!" panted Fenna, raising her hands to shoulder height. "I don't mean you any harm. I'm unarmed." Both statements, though true, sounded ironic when she had just barreled through the wall. Suddenly, Fenna's pewter ran out. She stumbled backwards, landing hard, due to her still tapped ironmind, and heard a crack from her elbow. Rusts! Pain washed over her. She was suddenly aware of each of the bruises and gashes she had sustained while smashing through walls, and a searing pain in her left elbow, where, she thought, she had broken a bone. Fenna fumbled for a metal vial, and only then realized that one had broken under her weight when she fell. Rusts, rusts, rusts! She detached one of the remaining two vials and downed it, immediately drowning out all her pain. Quote Things seem to be approaching a climax pretty soon, so I realized Fenna needed to get a move on. Hopefully this doesn't feel abrupt. Does anyone want to RP Phemus the police chief? I know @Koloss17 did before, but I'm fine with whoever wants to do it. I could do it myself, but it would be more fun to have someone else do it. If it needs to be clarified, Fenna just found the remaining constables holed up somewhere--maybe in the room where they keep weapons? That seems like a good place for them to go, and (I think) it makes sense that it would be pretty far away from the jail cells, where Asylum started all of this chaos. There are probably also some Allomancers among the police: Coinshots, Thugs, etc. Maybe a Leecher or a Pulser. @Scars of Hathsin @Koloss17 @Longshot97 @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Edited August 21, 2024 by Speeding Steelrunner 2
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 21, 2024 Author Posted August 21, 2024 9 hours ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Things seem to be approaching a climax pretty soon, so I realized Fenna needed to get a move on. Hopefully this doesn't feel abrupt. Does anyone want to RP Phemus the police chief? I know @Koloss17 did before, but I'm fine with whoever wants to do it. I could do it myself, but it would be more fun to have someone else do it. If it needs to be clarified, Fenna just found the remaining constables holed up somewhere--maybe in the room where they keep weapons? That seems like a good place for them to go, and (I think) it makes sense that it would be pretty far away from the jail cells, where Asylum started all of this chaos. There are probably also some Allomancers among the police: Coinshots, Thugs, etc. Maybe a Leecher or a Pulser. @Scars of Hathsin @Koloss17 @Longshot97 @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Quote I’m always down to roleplay Phemus some more! Phemus counted his remaining troops. Those damned creatures got to their seeker, and Kevin was caught in the crossfire. Brave lad, and a promising career. Death comes for all of us. Today was just their lucky day. Two coinshots, a leecher, a pewterarm, and a sparker were all the metalborn in the armory. They luckily had plenty of vials and metalminds on em, so all that was needed was to kit up the others. Luckily there were a few hazekillers, but Phemus feared their training wouldn’t help against these monsters. A loud blast shook the area as a person came barreling through the west wall. Almost immediately, 7 handguns, 2 tommy guns, a rapier, and a quarterstaff were pointed at the rubble. The dust settled, and the face of a woman emerged. “Put down yer weapons!” Phemus barked. “She’s with us.” He walked over to the lady. “At least I assume you are?” He held out a hand. “Chief constable Phemus of the Smokestack Constabulary, at your service.” 9 hours ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Suddenly, Fenna's pewter ran out. She stumbled backwards, landing hard, due to her still tapped ironmind, and heard a crack from her elbow. Rusts! Pain washed over her. She was suddenly aware of each of the bruises and gashes she had sustained while smashing through walls, and a searing pain in her left elbow, where, she thought, she had broken a bone. Fenna fumbled for a metal vial, and only then realized that one had broken under her weight when she fell. Rusts, rusts, rusts! She detached one of the remaining two vials and downed it, immediately drowning out all her pain. @Scars of Hathsin @Koloss17 @Longshot97 @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Rusts, he had an addict on his hands. ”hey lady, everything alright? What metals do you use? Maybe we’ll have some for ya.” Well, he couldn’t complain. A man’s a man, and he’d take all that he could get. Quote To clarify, Phemus has 5 metalborn, 3 hazekillers, and 7 standard constables on hand. Normally there would be more metalborn, but as chief Phemus instated a new policy requiring a minimum non-metalborn hire rate. And much of the precinct is either elsewhere in the building, dead, or out on patrol. Not to mention numbers have been down for a bit, since Phemus hasn’t really instated much confidence in the constabulary as chief. 2
Longshot97 he/him Posted August 22, 2024 Posted August 22, 2024 (edited) On 8/20/2024 at 2:50 PM, Stormlightsong said: Asylum saw the terror in Eza’s eyes and was confused. “I did what I had to. I did what made sense.” Asylum raised their voice as the looked towards the withered body. “You think the guy is more important than your life? Would you die in his place? Why? What reason is there?” Asylum looked at Eza’s new friend and it all finally clicked. “You think you’re better than me. You think I am evil and selfish!” They thought about for a second. “Which is fair, but what makes you any better?” Asylum walked around the pair slowly. “You steal. You might say that you need to, or that you need it more than them, but what do you know? Do you care? Do you think about the people that could be harmed by your actions? No! You are selfish and vain. but that’s ok! No one will care for you but yourself.” Asylum smiled and paused before adding the final touch. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. The moment you lost me you went straight to the next Smedry you could find.” They glared daggers into the man seated beside her. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice?” They spat out the last word. “Cousin.” @Koloss17 @Scars of Hathsin @Speeding Steelrunner "I did what I had to." The voice came to Eighth of the Eve as though down a long tunnel. Faint, distant, empty. Those eyes. Why do I yet see them? "I did what made sense." A stirring of emotion within, raw and ugly. Eighth shivered. “You think the guy is more important than your life?" No malice tainted Asylum's words. Only hurt, only confusion. "Would you die in his place? Why? What reason is there?” Those final words were practically shouted. And for a moment, silence reigned. And then... "You think you're better than me." The quiet fury, the profound vitriol in that voice roused him. Eighth slowly raised his head, eyes streaming soundlessly. "You think I am evil and selfish!” Through a haze of tears, Eza sat, still on the table, across a withered husk of a man. The man's eyes stared hollowly his way. Hastily, he tore his eyes from it, back to Eza. She didn't even move, staring unblinkingly at the wall. “Which is fair." Eighth started at that, looking at Asylum. His face matched his voice. Calm, earnest, and deadly serious. "But what makes you any better?” The skinwalker stepped deliberately, circling them. Like a predator, readying itself to pounce. “You steal." Eighth stiffened, glancing at Eza. She what? She continued to stare sightlessly, not reacting - to the insult, nor to Asylum walking before her. "You might say that you need to, or that you need it more than them, but what do you know? Do you care? Do you think about the people that could be harmed by your actions? No!" The demon leaned closer. "You are selfish and vain. but that’s ok! No one will care for you but yourself.” Rage, sudden and searing, burned through Eighth of the Eve. His blood boiled, and the roar of the ocean filled his ears. His jaw clenched, hard enough that he swore he heard teeth crack. His hands curled into fists, knuckles popping. Some part of him was lost. Where had his grief, his pain gone? But the pain was gone, burned away, reduced to sullen, simmering hatred. How dare they? How dare this fiend from far below rise, only to make others fall? How dare it murder and maim and mangle all that was good and walk along, uncaring for the shattered lives in its wake? “It’s kind of funny when you think about it." Eighth felt his eye twitch. His left hand had fallen within his coat. He inched it towards his belt, shifting imperceptibly. One word more... "The moment you lost me-" Eighth gripped Eza's knife firmly, tensing himself to lunge. "-you went straight to the next Smedry you could find.” Eighth froze. The demon looked at him, and the hatred in that gaze would have frozen lakes. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice?” They sneered and spat out the last word. “Cousin.” On 8/21/2024 at 1:04 AM, Lunamor said: Eza stared forwards blankly. She didn't look at the crying Eighth or sneering Asylum. Not at the walking corpses or abominations standing in the center of the room. Not at the man whose life she'd stolen. Not at anything, really. She wasn't supposed to be alive. The man next to her was a criminal, which meant he was like her. She could've easily been one of the prisoners trapped in this Harmony-forsaken building with the monster she'd once called her friend. There wasn't much separating her from that withered husk. Eza was rather surprised that Eighth and Asylum were apparently related, but that feeling failed to escape her subconscious. There wasn't much room for anything but terror. Not only had she been responsible for the death of a man, but now she'd angered someone who could murder her and Eighth on a whim. "I didn't know that Eighth was a Smedry, I'd just blackmailed him to come help me break you out because he looked strong." Her words were quiet, emotionless. She couldn't afford to further show her real emotions right now. Asylum was unstable. Irritating them was dangerous, and her horror and fear seemed to be doing that. She was falling back on her old ways. Staying meek and still was her best chance at staying safe when she couldn't flee. It reminded her of a little black cat she'd once tried to pet. It had stood motionless and silent at the end of an alleyway, as if it were trying to blend into a shadow. It'd scratched her pretty good when she got within swiping range, though. The tiny animal had been quivering in place, tail puffed up and hair standing on end. It was pitiful. It'd made her feel bad for it, although she'd been too young at the time to understand that it was she who was scaring it. Eza decided to add a slight quiver to her own voice. It wasn't hard; she just quit holding the one that was already there back. She finally looked up and met Asylum's eyes. "Thank you for saving me." Her thanks was genuine. That scared her. Had she been given a choice in whether to go through with her revival, she knew which one she would've picked. It wasn't the one good people were supposed to pick. She hadn't actually picked it though, so she couldn't know for sure what she would've done. Eza repeated that to herself internally. She didn't believe that there was a chance she would've done the right thing, but she could pretend to, for now. She turned to her only friend. He was in so much pain. A flash of sorrow crossed her face, but she smothered it. This was not the time for that. This was not the time for Eighth to lose control, either. He needed to calm down before he sent Asylum over the edge. "Eighth, it's alright. If Asylum wanted us to come, there wasn't anything you could've done to stop it." Eza absentmindedly began unwinding the cloth tightly wound around her arm which looked oddly unfamiliar. Asylum was right in their accusations, in a way. She was vain and selfish. She made things that weren't supposed to be hers her own. She didn't take things if it made someone more sad than it made her happy, though. Mother had said that meant it was okay, and she didn't lie to her. Had she been wrong? No, she hadn't been. Asylum of all people didn't know better than she did. But did she really always think through what impact she was having? She stole whenever she saw something she liked. You couldn't ask a stranger passing by on the street what their shiny piece of jewelry meant to them. Maybe it was a wedding ring, or something gifted to them from a friend who had passed away. But in the moment, when her eyes lit up at the sight of something beautiful... well, she didn't really care about that. She also couldn't rely on anyone else to care for her. Eza drew danger; she was a danger herself. She was flanked by evidence of that, one man broken down in tears and another man drained of life. Everyone was better off if she was alone. But she didn't want to be alone. That was what really made her so selfish. Maybe making her into a monster hadn't changed her all that much. @Longshot97 It dared? It dared insinuate familiarity? It dared insult his family, the last thing he had left to his name? It dared? The roar in his ears became deafening. Eza's mouth moved at last, but no words reached Eighth. All fear had vanished. Terror had come and gone. Hope had died at his hands, and so had his humanity. He was condemned. He was lost. He was alone. And it was all. Because. Of it. "...it's alright. If Asylum wanted us to come, there wasn't anything you could've done to stop it." Eighth of the Eve looked at Eza, and his heart all but broke. She believed this demon. She thought she truly was at fault. His fury mounted, burning higher and higher still. Yet his hands remained perfectly still. His muscles strained, lusting for action, yet he trembled not an inch. "Perhaps," Eighth said quietly. Slowly, he stood. The searing pain of his injuries was fuel to his anger, stoking it, flaring it like oil in fire. He rose to his full height. His cheeks felt wet. His knuckles tightened about the knife's hilt. His shoulders were bowed. For once, Seiju remained silent, a heavy weight on his shoulder. But before him, countless paths unfolded. An open door, with few obstacles. A kitchen, sure to have ventilation leading outside. A section of loose planking at the roof. Almost unconsciously, Eighth reached up, past his open coat and shirt collar. There, looped on a cord about his neck, rested an ornate ring. He gripped it, feeling the familiar contours digging into his palm. Oh, how it hurt to touch. But he held tight, remembering the soft hands of a dear woman sliding that ring onto his finger. "Goodbye, El," he whispered softly. On 8/21/2024 at 5:55 AM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary The man turned and strode purposefully away. Fenna was almost tempted to follow. He, unlike her, seemed to know exactly where he needed to go. On the other hand, he didn't seem like the sort of person who would take kindly to being followed uninvited. The person in charge. That was it: find the constables, if any remained in the building. She had a feeling that that wasn't the same idea that the newcomer had had. Did he mean the person in charge of all the chaos that was going on? Fenna turned and ran back the way she had come, through the hole in the wall, away from the direction the cloaked man had gone. Where would people hide? As far away from the source of these walking corpses as possible. Still, Fenna had no idea exactly where everyone might be. This is really, really stupid, she thought. Then she sprinted towards the wall. She flared pewter and tapped weight, then pushed harder to maintain her speed, and smashed through the wall. She emerged in another hallway, but didn't stop. Immediately, she crashed through the opposite wall and into another room. It was hard to maintain speed at this weight, so Fenna released her ironmind and began storing weight instead. Only pewter allowed her to keep her balance as her momentum sent her shooting forwards. She tapped weight to smash through the next wall, flaring her pewter continually to protect herself. As it was, she tried to ignore the amount of bruises and cuts she would have when this was over. Fenna lost track of how many walls she had gone through as she fell into a rhythm. All she observed of each room was that it was empty, before bashing through the opposite wall. Suddenly, she found herself in a room that was not empty. Fenna tapped weight and dug in her heels, trying to maximize her friction. The floor cracked and fragmented under the strain, but she managed to stop herself before colliding with the group of shocked looking people in the middle of the room, raising weapons. "It's all right!" panted Fenna, raising her hands to shoulder height. "I don't mean you any harm. I'm unarmed." Both statements, though true, sounded ironic when she had just barreled through the wall. Suddenly, Fenna's pewter ran out. She stumbled backwards, landing hard, due to her still tapped ironmind, and heard a crack from her elbow. Rusts! Pain washed over her. She was suddenly aware of each of the bruises and gashes she had sustained while smashing through walls, and a searing pain in her left elbow, where, she thought, she had broken a bone. Fenna fumbled for a metal vial, and only then realized that one had broken under her weight when she fell. Rusts, rusts, rusts! She detached one of the remaining two vials and downed it, immediately drowning out all her pain. @Scars of Hathsin @Koloss17 @Longshot97 @Lunamor @Stormlightsong The building shook with sudden thunder, floors quaking, walls shaking, ceiling trembling. The Soulless were brought to their knees, and even the Bloodless staggered. The Mindless were scattered, like foam before the crashing tide. Of them, only Eighth stood firm, riding the quake. He looked across at Asylum Smedry. A distant part of him noted that they were not the cause of the tremors. So be it. Firmly, he met the demon's gaze. "You," Eighth of the Eve said, voice somehow carrying through the chaos, "Are no kin of mine." And Eighth struck. * * * Eighth flung the dagger directly towards Asylum Smedry. For a moment, the blade seemed frozen mid-spin, gem-encrusted pommel scattering the light. Eighth did not wait for it to land. He whirled, raising his arm and shooting by instinct. The first dart took the yellow-eyed demon directly in the skull, knocking the Soulless bodily into his companions. Then razor-tipped darts landed, piercing cloth and flesh with ease. A wailing, undulating screech reached him. Not pausing for even a second, Eighth continued his spin. Ripping the waterskin from his belt, he pivoted, hurling it forwards. Right at the charging Bloodless, mere feet from him. The massive weight struck the abomination in the chest, and the sound of breaking ribs reached Eighth. The force threw the Bloodless from its feet, directly into the wall. Eighth reached with outspread fingers, quicksilver glove flaring to life. The waterskin burst like an overripe fruit, coating the creature in solvent silver even as it struck the wall. Eighth thrust his hand forth, and with a resounding crack, the Bloodless flew through the wall, momentum carrying it on. An enormous impact sounded from beyond the crater. The force of his throw launched Seiju from his shoulder. She cried out as she flapped, alighting painfully next to Eza. Eighth's lips compressed, but in his mind's eye, the paths remained as strong as ever. All this Eighth did in the span of mere heartbeats. His steps were sure, unhurried and implacable. His aim was true, his will unbreakable. Fury lent him speed. Anguish spurred him on. Loss filled him. The tremors finally ceased, the world righting itself about them. Eighth of the Eve turned on too-light feet, deliberately ripping his blade from its sheath. Facing the demon. Quote Ooh boy. I am not sure how this turned out. A few notes. Even though Asylum has made the connection that Eighth is a Smedry, Eighth has not. It has not occurred to him, what with thing after thing coming his way. In a quiet moment, I could see him working it out. Here? Now? Not so much. Eighth's attacks were aimed to kill, but probably didn't succeed. I leave that in your hands @Stormlightsong. We've seen how tough vampires are; the Horsemen probably aren't so bad themselves. I don't want to undercut that power, or narrative stake. Oh, and I wrote that Pestilence got shot in the head. I should explain. That was a blunt-tipped dart, though all the other darts were sharp. The continuity makes sense, I promise ;-; More than that, Eighth is not expecting to survive. In my head, he's not even sure he can win. But he has to try. And thus, the fight scene. In my head, Eighth is kind of done. Poor guy's been scared out of his mind ever since Asylum entered the cellblock. On top of that, he got in a fight, lost, and was beaten up a fair bit. He's tough, he can take it. But it's more than physical damage - it's the mental strain I'm trying to address here. He's past fear. Now he's just angry. In his mind, he just lost whatever small chance he had to get back home. He thinks he's lost his new friend. To him, he just killed an innocent man. He's hurt, and finally has something he can hurt back...or at least try. Oh, and I thought it would be best to drive things to a close for the episode. A climax is building. Reading back through this, I think the final scene comes across as though Eighth is moving with supernatural speed. For clarity's sake, he's moving with the speed of efficiency, further guided by his Aviar's talent. He does not have Asylum's enhanced speed or strength. Just wanted to clarify that. Oh, and I'm loving the further Phemus lore that is being dropped. He's coming to be quite the character. I find that endlessly amusing. Not sure why. Regardless, the stage is set. We now have more than unique bronzepulses to indicate location. Chances are the constables could hear that vampire crashing through the wall. If not, a fight is certainly brewing. @Lunamor @Stormlightsong Edited September 7, 2024 by Longshot97 Tightening up prose. Also, clarified the Aviar's positions throughout the scene. Somehow forgot that. Whoopsies. 3
Steel Speedster ♂ Posted August 23, 2024 Posted August 23, 2024 (edited) On 8/21/2024 at 5:28 PM, Koloss17 said: Phemus counted his remaining troops. Those damned creatures got to their seeker, and Kevin was caught in the crossfire. Brave lad, and a promising career. Death comes for all of us. Today was just their lucky day. Two coinshots, a leecher, a pewterarm, and a sparker were all the metalborn in the armory. They luckily had plenty of vials and metalminds on em, so all that was needed was to kit up the others. Luckily there were a few hazekillers, but Phemus feared their training wouldn’t help against these monsters. A loud blast shook the area as a person came barreling through the west wall. Almost immediately, 7 handguns, 2 tommy guns, a rapier, and a quarterstaff were pointed at the rubble. The dust settled, and the face of a woman emerged. “Put down yer weapons!” Phemus barked. “She’s with us.” He walked over to the lady. “At least I assume you are?” He held out a hand. “Chief constable Phemus of the Smokestack Constabulary, at your service.” Rusts, he had an addict on his hands. ”hey lady, everything alright? What metals do you use? Maybe we’ll have some for ya.” Well, he couldn’t complain. A man’s a man, and he’d take all that he could get. Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna barely heard anything the man said. However, he seemed surprisingly welcoming, especially considering she had just plowed a hole through his wall. That seemed to be a sign that he was desperate—things were not going well. Focus returned as Fenna’s pewter washed away the pain and fatigue. Her injured arm didn’t hurt at all. That meant she would probably make it worse without realizing, but right now, she wasn’t going to complain. As she faced the police chief, Fenna realized she had no plan and little idea of what was happening. Whatever it was, the police chief and some of his remaining constables had been forced to take shelter in this room. She didn’t know where the enemy was or how many monsters were infesting the building. But she did, at least, have some information she could deliver. ”I came to see what was happening,” Fenna panted. “There’s a Radiant here as well, and someone else. I didn’t get a close look, but he looked like he had a mistcoat, and he went to find…someone. I’m here to help however I can.” She fell silent, and wondered once again what she was even doing there, acutely aware that she didn’t have anything very useful to offer. What was I thinking? she sighed to herself. Quote I don’t recall how aware of Perses the public is, so I opted to have Fenna not recognize him. Either she hasn’t heard about him (I figured that would be possible, even if the public at large is aware of him) or, for whatever reason, she didn’t make the connection when she met him in the hall. @Koloss17 Edited August 23, 2024 by Speeding Steelrunner 1
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 24, 2024 Author Posted August 24, 2024 On 8/23/2024 at 11:44 AM, Speeding Steelrunner said: Fenna, Smokestack Constabulary Fenna barely heard anything the man said. However, he seemed surprisingly welcoming, especially considering she had just plowed a hole through his wall. That seemed to be a sign that he was desperate—things were not going well. Focus returned as Fenna’s pewter washed away the pain and fatigue. Her injured arm didn’t hurt at all. That meant she would probably make it worse without realizing, but right now, she wasn’t going to complain. As she faced the police chief, Fenna realized she had no plan and little idea of what was happening. Whatever it was, the police chief and some of his remaining constables had been forced to take shelter in this room. She didn’t know where the enemy was or how many monsters were infesting the building. But she did, at least, have some information she could deliver. ”I came to see what was happening,” Fenna panted. “There’s a Radiant here as well, and someone else. I didn’t get a close look, but he looked like he had a mistcoat, and he went to find…someone. I’m here to help however I can.” She fell silent, and wondered once again what she was even doing there, acutely aware that she didn’t have anything very useful to offer. What was I thinking? she sighed to herself. @Koloss17 Phemus grinned. “Always glad to see an outstanding citizen like yourself. You know how to fight, girl?” ”Ah, who am I kidding? Seeing how you busted through that wall, of course you do. Speaking of, next time maybe ask before destroying the city’s property.” This city. Nothing here stands for long. Phemus reoriented himself. They were in an active war zone. No time to stop and think. Well, no time to stop and think about anything irrelevant to the task at hand. ”Well, you came just in time. We’ve just about finished gearing up and are ready to take down the bastard that caused all of this. Me and ‘em got a history, and it’s high time we settled it.” He looked off into the distance, which in this case was a random shelf. “Asylum, you’re about to get what’s coming for ya.” Quote Given that I haven’t created a character sheet for Phemus, I don’t really know how to write him. This is easily the most in-depth we’ve seen him, and it’s harder than I thought . I should probably get around to making an NPC sheet for him tho. 3
Steel Speedster ♂ Posted August 25, 2024 Posted August 25, 2024 18 hours ago, Koloss17 said: Phemus grinned. “Always glad to see an outstanding citizen like yourself. You know how to fight, girl?” ”Ah, who am I kidding? Seeing how you busted through that wall, of course you do. Speaking of, next time maybe ask before destroying the city’s property.” This city. Nothing here stands for long. Phemus reoriented himself. They were in an active war zone. No time to stop and think. Well, no time to stop and think about anything irrelevant to the task at hand. ”Well, you came just in time. We’ve just about finished gearing up and are ready to take down the bastard that caused all of this. Me and ‘em got a history, and it’s high time we settled it.” He looked off into the distance, which in this case was a random shelf. “Asylum, you’re about to get what’s coming for ya.” At the words “outstanding citizen”, Fenna glanced to the side awkwardly. She felt a little guilty about how deceived the man was about her, but on the other hand, she was here to help. She could do far worse than fail to correct a mistaken impression of her—she had done worse. Still, it felt good to be spoken highly of. And after all, she had left her past behind on Scadrial. Maybe here in Alleycity she was an outstanding citizen. Fenna smiled and felt a little more like her old self—or, no: a new self. Not the person she had been on Scadrial—the arrogant, care-free criminal who did whatever she wanted—nor the dour, depressed resident of Smokestack, but someone who was the best of both. Fenna glanced around the room and realized how few constables there were. She felt a prick of dread. It had been difficult to subdue just one monster, and she was Twinborn and had had a Knight Radiant for back-up! She didn’t know how many more of the creatures there were, but she feared there would be too many for them to handle. Her elation disappeared, like the sun vanishing behind a cloud. They were all going to their deaths, and she was a fool. Why did I come? she thought again, angry at herself for her stupidity. She hadn’t changed anything, except given the waiting monsters one more person to kill. Quote With that, Fenna is on hold for now. Basically, I’m thinking that she and the constables can just show up at confrontation between Asylum, Eza, and Eighth at the right moment. 2
Koloss17 She/They Posted August 25, 2024 Author Posted August 25, 2024 13 minutes ago, Speeding Steelrunner said: Quote If you’d like, I can just pop in the constables when it would be thematically appropriate! I don’t know when that would be, but if you’re fine with the wait, that’s what we could do.
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