Einladung Hospital

[Rushu42 she/her]

Aln watched the doctor's eyes widen, and her stomach flipped. Did she know? Pel, does that expression mean that she knows? 

"Don't panic," returned the ever-calm spren. "Just think logically. Analyze your options."

Yes. Logic. That she could handle. Aln shoved her thoughts into order and began rapidly assembling a mental list.

Option 1: I'm reading too much into her expression. The change was slight, after all. She might still suspect nothing. It's too risky to gamble on that, though. Better to assume the worst.

Option 2: She spotted some inconsistency in my disguise that tipped her off that I'm an imposter, independent of the listed symptoms. Dangerous, and it would leave me without leads.

Option 3: She recognized the symptoms. A terrifying possibility, but an exciting one. That would suggest that there is a general trend in this city. It would mean that I'm not crazy. Of course, it might also mean that I'm standing in front of a DA agent, which would be... less than ideal.

Aln looked down at the table, covered in the woman's paperwork. What was she looking for? ...amnesia. These papers are sorted by mentions of amnesia. Option 3, then. Aln's heart was thundering hard enough that she was half-afraid that the other woman could hear it, but she forced her expression to remain casual. "A Forgery consultation? That's a good idea, I hadn't thought of that. I shouldn't interrupt your work here, though. Are you looking for anything important? I could help speed it up, if you like."

Let's do this.

[Ashbringer he/him]

On 3/7/2022 at 11:16 AM, mathiau said:

"Are you the two persons coming for a Savantism check up?

"We are" NullBlade said

"Then follow me"

Cassie gave NullBlade a quick nod, then stood up to follow the nurse. It didn't... hurt. It didn't even feel wrong, it just felt stiff. The nurse didn't react, although Cassie supposed he'd seen far worse than a woman with what amounted to a strange case of muscle atrophy.

She took a few steps. Same feeling. Strangely, not as heavy as she was expecting. Whatever she was turning into wasn't as dense as steel.

The nurse paused a moment. "If you'd like a walking aid of some kind, I can get you one."

"I'll be fine," Cassie said. "I've gotten this far, I can go a while farther. But avoiding the stairs may be preferable."

The nurse nodded, continuing down a set of hallways. There weren't many stairs, which was nice - the flight to the Spiritual Ward was the only one, and it had a lift that Cassie graciously accepted the offer to use. It was slow, but that left some time.

She turned to NullBlade. "Have you ever... how did you even learn about what a savant was? The only ones I knew was a long time ago, and their savantisms were... more subtle."

How long had it been? Since she'd gotten the Soulcaster? Since Scadrial? It was so hard to tell. 

[MacThorstenson he/him]

Ronald passed through the glass doors of the hospital into a scene of nearly pure chaos. The Nurses in charge seemed to be imposing some order, but it was still a mess. Perfect. He approached the receptionists desk, quickly stating that he was here to visit a friend and that he knew the way. She barely looked up and just waved him through. Void bless our convoluted hospitals. 

He had memorized the path ahead of time, and quickly made his way into the cognitive ward. He slowed down then, so that he could choose to enter the records room when no one was looking. As soon as he was sure that he wasn't being watched he quickly spun around and ducked into the room full of filing cabinets, but as he glanced around the room however, he was confronted with two people also flipping through the files.

"Seems like quite the party," he said, "Sorry to bother you all, I just need a few files for legal and I'll be out of your hair." Glancing at the sheet, he made his way over to the E section, "Marry Edinger, where art thou?" He muttered as he started flipping through the files with the practiced touch of someone who spends most of his days searching for papers. 

@Voidus

@Rushu42

[18th Shard he/him]

Emily finished examining Poller. "Based on what I've tested, you don't have a concussion. I don't have any explanation for the Cognitive symptoms you described, but since they don't seem to have impaired your mental or physical abilities right now, I think it'd be best to just keep an eye on it for a week or so. If it happens again, definitely come back in, but right now I think you're going to be just fine."

She unlocked the cabinet and pulled out a prescription pad from the shelf. She filled out Poller's information, scribbled a note on it (20mg fAu, fNi req., 20m obs.), signed it, and handed it to Poller.

"This is a prescription for a single 20 milligram dose of feruchemical Gold. It'll take care of some of the bruising and should catch any other little physical problems. I'll have someone show you where the pharmacy is, but they'll give you a small sugar pill with the gold embedded in it. One of the pharmacy techs will help you with a metalmind that will allow you to tap the gold, and then they'll have you sit in an observation room for about twenty minutes. If you don't have any reactions after then, you'll be good to head home."

Emily pulled her gloves off and tossed them in the trash, opening the door for the pair to exit. She caught Sam's attention and explained Poller needed directed to the pharmacy in the Physical Ward. Sam nodded and started leading the two down the hall. Emily rubbed some hand sanitizer on her hands, then went back to the desk to check on the schedule. 

@Ashbringer @mathiau

Edited March 10, 2022 by 18th Shard

[mathiau he/him]

11 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

She turned to NullBlade. "Have you ever... how did you even learn about what a savant was? The only ones I knew was a long time ago, and their savantisms were... more subtle."

"My parent told me. I grew up on Invocation Earth -it's one of the Earths very close to the Reckoner Earth- and was dreaming to become a superhero." He pointed as his yellow eyes "But since my parent are from the Cosmere, they thought Invocation would not grant me powers so they suggested me a way to make my powers useful." Though he had recently learned aluminium savant were not supposed to exists, as they were supposed to heal their own savantism. Which implied he actually had an Epic power, probably one that made easier for someone to become a savant, which in any other situation would have been the most useless power possible.

"What do you man by 'more subtle'?"

5 hours ago, 18th Shard said:

Emily pulled her gloves off and tossed them in the trash, opening the door for the pair to exit. She caught Sam's attention and explained Poller needed directed to the pharmacy in the Physical Ward. Sam nodded and started leading the two down the hall. Emily rubbed some hand sanitizer on her hands, then went back to the desk to check on the schedule.

So that's one thing out of the way. Now what?

The original plan was to create a distraction, maybe we could go back to that. Or we could try to look for informations on our own.

I'm honestly a bit worried for the other members of the guild. Aln said she had no idea if they had made it.

Your right. We could ask if they're here. And if there not, there's a chance having dozens of missing patients could create a commotion, which could help Aln.

He started walking toward Emily

Wait. If we do that there's a chance the DA would realise they missed some of us, in that case we're probably headed for a fight. It'd be a good idea if you could say your truth now.

There is nothing to say. It wasn't my fault.

It doesn't matter if it was your fault. What matter is that hurt Aliece and you.

"Excuse-me Emily" Folorian said nervously "there have been an incident in the Scholar Guild two days ago, there should be serval member here so I'd like to know if it was possible to know how they were going?"

Kerr, you should probably stay near Poller, in case something happens to him.

On it

Quote

As a reminder since it has been years since it happened, the incident I'm referencing is the Aylitha destroying the Scholar Guild

[Fatebreaker he/him]

It was cold in the small flat where Reshilore sat, writing on loose pieces of paper scattered across his desk. They were covered in hastily scrawled notes and odd diagrams, with no apparent rhyme or reason. But he knew how to weave amongst the underbrush of scribbles to find the pathways of theories and hypotheses. He made an annotation to a paragraph on one page, then underlined a passage on another. He researched covered a number of topics, but his current focus was the interactions of metalurgic arts and human physiology. He was currently studying the role of the metabolism in allomancy and variations in metabolic rates. 

It’s interesting how allomancy consumes the physical component of the investiture, while feruchemy only consumes the investiture itself, leaving the metalminds intact. Allomancy being the end-positive art provides interesting possibilities in experimentation. I wonder if different forms of investiture could be introduced via metabolism, and if different vehicles could be more effective. Though the piercing aspect of feruchemy is interesting as well. Could these be combined in some form. Is there variations in physiology depending on location? It would make sense for there be different physiological interactions based on which systems come into contact with the investiture?

He searched for a moment around the desk before finding the page of notes he was looking for. He wrote in a flurry of activity, his mind moving faster than his hands could match. The metalurgic arts are so fascinating, and people have only started to scratch the surface. He felt inspiration like a fire in his brain, consuming him with excitement and purpose.

He stayed in that place of burning inspiration until Lucas came home. His friend found him there at the desk, the piles of paper having risen noticeably since the morning. Lucas cleared his throat, and waited for his friend to turn. Reshilore did not appear to have heard, as he continued to write. Lucas, annoyed, cleared his throat again at increased volume. Again, no response. Lucas grunted in annoyance, then leaned forward and flicked Reshilore in the ear, hard. This produced a reaction, eliciting a yelp as Reshilore jumped out of his chair. “Rust and Ruin! Oh that smarts! What the blazes Luke!?” Lucas scoffed as he sat heavily into an armchair, “Oh don’t cry like a tineye in an off key choir, I barely grazed you. Besides, you were so deep in your studies it would have taken an explosion to reach you otherwise.” Reshilore snorted. Lucas was prone to hyperbole, though there was a hint of truth in his words. He had been at this for days now, chasing hints of a breakthrough in his latest studies, barely taking breaks to eat and sleep. His sleep had been uneasy anyhow, with dreams that frightened him awake, but could never be recalled.

“Whatever, you wouldn’t get it because you’re not a scientist.” Reshilore teased. Lucas rolled his eyes, “Yes, because I actually work on things that people care about. Like these.” He threw a bag at his friend, who caught it before it could scatter the papers on his desk. Reshilore opened it, and a warm smell wafted into his nose and traveled straight to his stomach. Cookies. His stomach growled, as if in affirmation. Reshilore immediately grabbed one and bit into the soft pastry with a groan of hunger. Lucas was the best baker Reshilore had ever met, and his cookies especially were to die for. Lucas had a self satisfied grin as he watched his friend wolf down several of his baked goods, “Speaking of caring, have you spoken to Vic in the last few days? I haven’t heard from her. Any word if that stomach pain that was bugging her went away?” Reshilore started, realizing that no, he hadn’t spoken to his girlfriend in several days. He knew he had a bad habit of getting lost in his research, but normally Victoria could be the one giving him a swat and telling him to eat something. He felt a guilty lump in his stomach. “No, she’s been really busy at the hospital, picking up extra shifts to help the influx of patients. She says more and more people are coming in with varying forms of cognitive dissonance. And she’s one of the few clinical psychologists who can Soothe on staff at the moment, so she’s been pretty busy.” Lucas raised a sardonic eyebrow at him, “So you’re telling me your girlfriend has been under significantly more pressure at her already difficult job, and you thought it’d be a good time to get lost on one of your little academic adventures? Resh, please tell me you’re not actually that dumb.” Reshilore sputtered in protest, “I-I’m, I’m not ignoring her, I’m working on things inspired by what she’s been telling me. My theories of investiture interaction with physiology could potentially help with cognitive damage, maybe even intense physical trauma! It’ll make her job easier, make the world a better place, and will further the cause of Science!” 

As Reshilore spoke, the room began to shake, gently at first, but building in intensity. Books fell off of shelves as the two men were sent sprawling. Lucas cursed as he fell and hit the corner of the desk, opening a gash in his arm. Reshilore tried to help him, but was having difficulty standing. Then, almost as quickly as it began, the quake subsided. “Are you alright?” Reshilore asked, as he shakily gained his feet. “I’m fine,” Lucas answered, attempting to wipe some blood from his shirt, “at least I charged my goldminds recently. Rusts, this needs a wash in cold water if I’m to have any chance of removing the stain.” Reshilore rolled his eyes. Lucas being a gold ferring almost felt like a waste sometimes, as the amiable baker rarely needed to use his ability. Most often he used it to heal burned fingers when he grabbed a loaf of bread that was a little too hot. Lucas maintained that his profession suited him fine, as the joy of baking was all the excitement he needed. Still, Reshilore supposed he wouldn’t want his friend risking his life, even if risk had a much harder time affecting Lucas.

Reshilore began picking up his scattered notes and sorting them into their respective jumbled piles, “That was pretty intense.”  Lucas nodded as he picked up books that had fallen, “Biggest one yet.” REsh looked out the window, where various voices could be heard in the street, speaking in various states of alarm. “I’m worried about Vic,” he told Lucas, “we should go check on her.” Lucas shook his head, “Oh no, I don’t want to be there when you face her wrath for going MIA for several days. I’ll clean up around here, you go check on her.” Reshilore sighed and nodded, then straightened a few more stacks of notes before grabbing his coat and heading out. As he put it on, he felt something in his pocket. It was the little white card he had found in the street, presumably left by the woman he had met that evening outside the haberdashery shop. He had found it as his friends had left the shop, wedged in a crack in the pavement, so low he had almost missed it. The lettering was in gold, and it had her name and address.

Lita Lapetit.

The address looked to be in the wealthy side of town, though that shouldn’t have been surprising, given the sophisticated way she had been dressed. The handwritten note on back said, “In case you change your mind”. He blushed just looking at it, remembering how embarrassing his manner had been. He thought he had gotten rid of the card, lest Vic or Lucas see it and learn of his horrific awkwardness. Odd, that it was still in his pocket. 

Then, remembering the reason for his trip, he tucked the card away and hurried towards Einladung Hospital.

Edited March 10, 2022 by Fatebreaker

[Voidus]

On 10/03/2022 at 1:08 AM, Rushu42 said:

"A Forgery consultation? That's a good idea, I hadn't thought of that. I shouldn't interrupt your work here, though. Are you looking for anything important? I could help speed it up, if you like."]

Well she's either the most polite thief in the world or she noticed the research. Laurelai noted, suppressing a wary smile. But since she reacted that way to this research that can only mean she's looking into the same thing. Which means either she or someone she knows has likely experienced similar effects.

"That would be a tremendous help." Laurelai said, giving a smile. "If you don't have any rounds to complete or patients to see. We've gotten a little backlogged recently but keeping up to date on records is important as well so if we can get it done sooner."

Can't stall her forever Laurelai. The critical part of her mind noted. What's the plan? She's obviously looking into something related, possibly the same issue.

Just then one of her pockets warmed, it took her a moment to recall what that meant and she pulled a pen from the pocket, subtly twisting it in the affirmative and hunching over some of the papers.

"Some of these will need updated annotations." She said, as the pen slowly began to twist and move in subtle patterns which to an untrained eye looked simply like idle movement.

Rust I should have practiced this more. She thought to herself, devoting each movement to memory and slowly translating the message.

”Status report requested. What have you discovered so far?”

Storming little with these interruptions. Laurelai thought. And I must have lost track of time talking to Vivica.

"Another person in records room. Looking for similar information. Not hospital staff. Suspect likely experiencing similar-."

She broke off mid message as the door opened and was quickly closed once again, a man in a well-tailored suit sweeping into the room with not a care or second glance.

"Sorry to bother you all, I just need a few files for legal and I'll be out of your hair." The man said, immediately beginning to make his way towards one section "Marry Edinger, where art thou?"

Laurelai spared a brief appreciative glance for the man's pocket square, something far too few wore these days for her liking, especially not ones made from Nalthian silk. But her gaze slid off of the man an instant later. His entire being screamed lawyer or accountant, and she was far less familiar with the administration staff.

"Sorry." Laurelai apologized to the doctor and bent down to get her pen. "Door startled me a bit."

As she straightened she quickly concluded her message "similar symptoms as we noticed. Another individual now present, one of the administration staff I think but may make subtle information gathering difficult. He does know how to wear a suit though."

She wasn't sure if that last comment had been entirely necessary or professional, she had certainly gotten into a comfortable and casual routine with Lita previously but this was a job now.

Perhaps worth keeping to the necessary details. She mentally chided herself before looking back towards the papers.

"Sorry, where was I up to?" She said, almost as though to herself.

@MacThorstenson @ZincAboutIt @Rushu42

[Ashbringer he/him]

19 hours ago, mathiau said:

"My parent told me. I grew up on Invocation Earth -it's one of the Earths very close to the Reckoner Earth- and was dreaming to become a superhero." He pointed as his yellow eyes "But since my parent are from the Cosmere, they thought Invocation would not grant me powers so they suggested me a way to make my powers useful." Though he had recently learned aluminium savant were not supposed to exists, as they were supposed to heal their own savantism. Which implied he actually had an Epic power, probably one that made easier for someone to become a savant, which in any other situation would have been the most useless power possible.

"What do you man by 'more subtle'?"

"I was born on Scadrial. Old Scadrial - I've heard they've gotten a bit further since I've been gone. So we all knew the story of the Survivor of the Flames. Tin is an easier metal to flare for too long, even if it hurts. But he got healed, so all the side effects were gone. So people followed. Especially one I knew... he burned too much cadmium."

Cassie paused. She knew the truth, to some degree. Byron was still alive. He was here, in the Alleyverse. She'd kept an ear out, as she always had, and there was a cadmium savant in the city. But how long had it been? For her, a year or two. For him, a minute? A decade? A thousand years of him skipping around time, stealing a loaf of bread once a year or so? She'd left more cadmium than she'd ever seen on Scadrial. With the travel here breaking time, who knew if he'd even recognize her.

That wasn't the problem right now. Byron's savantism was a danger, but one he couldn't function without. Her savantism, on the other hand, needed to be dealt with one way or another. And she should probably keep talking.

"He came out alright, but... it didn't always end well. But it was always something you could depend on to help you, to be the edge you needed. Then I went to Roshar. Found this," she said, shaking her Soulcaster wrist, "and found out just how powerful it could be to an Allomancer. I didn't have too much of an idea what I was getting into."

That wasn't entirely true, was it? She knew. She knew when she'd burned iron, seen the lines connecting her to the metal lining the skin of the ardent who'd previously had the Soulcaster. She knew when she'd screamed and the ardent turned, fear in his eyes turning to rage as she spilled the secret. She knew when she killed him, and saw the body of a man slowly petrifying himself. It was self-defense, she'd told herself, even as she took the Soulcaster and used it to finish the ardent's transformation. He wanted to kill me, she'd told herself. She didn't tell herself that much anymore. 

"I knew it was related. I didn't think it would happen this fast, or be this bad, or I thought I could handle it. I still think I can handle it. But I need to know."

She needed to know how long she had. And if there was a way to direct the fate this Surge had for her into a... more useful direction.

[mathiau he/him]

8 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

"I was born on Scadrial. Old Scadrial - I've heard they've gotten a bit further since I've been gone. So we all knew the story of the Survivor of the Flames. Tin is an easier metal to flare for too long, even if it hurts. But he got healed, so all the side effects were gone. So people followed. Especially one I knew... he burned too much cadmium."

"He came out alright, but... it didn't always end well. But it was always something you could depend on to help you, to be the edge you needed. Then I went to Roshar. Found this," she said, shaking her Soulcaster wrist, "and found out just how powerful it could be to an Allomancer. I didn't have too much of an idea what I was getting into."

"I knew it was related. I didn't think it would happen this fast, or be this bad, or I thought I could handle it. I still think I can handle it. But I need to know."

NullBlade frowned. What would Cadmium savantism even do? Make time in the bubble flow even faster?

He was about to ask when the doctor made them enter an examination room

"Which of you want to go first?" He asked

"You should probably go first, considering yours is actually life threatening"

Quote

I'm a bit confused as to why you consider Byron's savantism to be more subtle than NullBlade's

[Ashbringer he/him]

14 minutes ago, mathiau said:

I'm a bit confused as to why you consider Byron's savantism to be more subtle than NullBlade's

Quote

She's more saying Allomantic savantism is more subtle than her own Soulcaster savantism. Byron's is... not subtle, but looking at Byron or Spook or another Allomantic savant takes a bit to realize something's off. Cassie has to actively conceal it.

I'll try to post later tonight, a bit busy right now.

 

[18th Shard he/him]

Sanax was having a bad day. His days fluctuated, good and good and good and good and good and good and then bad. Today was a bad day, not a good day. If it were a good day, he would be able to think and to want to get up. If it were a good day, Sanax would want to look at people, see how their souls were wound, the strands and the veins and the blood. It was not a good day. Sanax hurt inside. His mind ached, his body felt more dead than normal. He could feel each and every ounce of ichor-alchohol running through his arteries, feeling like life and light and thought were flowing out. And deep inside, darkness coiled, like a venomous snake aroused by noise, waiting to strike - to lash out, to devour, to end. An empty, bottomless Void, mouth gaping open like Charybdis. The little light Sanax had eaten this week was too little, pushing too weakly to hold back the force of the Void, like degeneracy pressure in a collapsing neutron star, torn apart by gravity until there was only a hole in reality. Sanax stared at the world with black eyes, as if his pupils hoped to consume all he saw. It was not a good day. If it were a good day, Sanax could pretend to be alive. Today was a bad day. Today, Sanax was death.

Dark tendrils coiled out from around the edges of his gloves, eating like moths through the hospital blankets, freeing Sanax to move to stand. He stood wearily, slowly, agonizingly. The room itself glowed with a dim light - faint Investiture stored in the molecules of everything around him. Not enough. That light was a thimbleful compared to the herculean, hateful, huge hole hidden here in him. He needed more. He stumbled to the door, and the Void slipped from his gloved hands, unable to be restrained by the aluminum. The door knob, the lock, melted away like smoke as he brushed against them. Sanax stared down the hallway. The woman next to him was crazy, but the phantagorasmic cephalopod she raved about had no more substance, no more light, than the door he’d passed through. Next down was a man who’d suffered from a poorly created Essence Mark. The hunger in Sanax knew that wouldn’t be enough. Sanax stalked like a dark spectre down the hallway. The lights flicked, electricity arcing from the electrical sockets on the wall into the waiting darkness to vanish forever. Eldritch symbols etched their way into the floor like there was acid dripping from Sanax’s feet. He peered into the next room, where a young girl quivered in her sleep. Pink glasses with odd shaped lenses lay on a side table. The girl struggled as if caught in a nightmare. There was Investiture trapped here, caught in the tangled threads of her mind. A bright Bane beamed with brilliance, blossoming from the girl’s Spiritweb. Connections stretching out of the room, along shimmering lines. A nascent nebulous Nahel nexus nearing annealing. Verdant variegated vines vying to find purchase in the child’s soul. Sanax reached out to take it, to rend the light from the girl’s soul, the darkness surging. Something inside Sanax cried out, a tiny voice screaming at the darkness. Not a child! Not that line! Sanax almost recognized the echo. Perhaps once he’d known the voice once, but no more. The darkness tearing at him, strained reaching to tear the Light, to claim it, but that voice held the darkness to the door, sobbing. Sanax listened with half an ear, the weeping harmonizing with the hunger in his soul. It sang with his own voice, he supposed. A conscience screaming. Con-science. 'With science.' An echo sounded again. Science is the pursuit of truth, of logic divorced from desires. I will be guided by logic, not emotion. The words echoed inside Sanax’s head, pressure building. He screamed, an empty, quiet sound, the vibration vacuumed by the Void. He shoved away from the door, his hands etching grooves into the wall. He could feel ripples dancing along the terrible strands that ensnared the world before him. Light pounded against him, a force insisting he was wrong. He shouldn’t exist. His memories, his powers, his self was not. Sanax fell, crawling, reaching for something, anything to sustain him, blind in the darkness. His hand tore something from the wall - cool metal, tough stone. The darkness jumped, elated. It tore light from the stones, and the cool metal vibrated, repelled by the darkness. The darkness in Sanax’s eyes cleared just a bit. A heating fabrial. Rubies, with terrified flamespren twisting. The spren could buy him another week of life. “I’m sorry,” Sanax whispered. The darkness rushed into the fabrial, tearing the spren apart, snuffing them out like a harsh wind on faint embers. The world went dark again, unconsciousness rather than Void greeting Sanax. 

Edited March 12, 2022 by 18th Shard

[Rushu42 she/her]

Aln jumped as a man in a suit suddenly walked past her, heading towards the rows of files and muttering something about a patient. She'd left her back to the door; that was foolish. Who wears a 3-piece suit and a bowler hat to work in a hospital? she wondered. But the doctor whose name she still didn't know was talking, so she wrenched her attention away from him and refocued on her words. The other woman was twirling a pen absently in her hands as she spoke; that was strange. She hadn't seemed very fidgety before. And she still hadn't made any move to accuse Aln, or even to question her further. That either meant that Aln was far better at lying than she'd estimated, or the doctor was stalling for time.

Aln's eyes flicked back to the man in the suit. He'd appeared just after the woman had taken out her pen. Could it have acted as a signal? All it would take was a simple Conjoiner fabrial; the Scholar's Guild even had a similar system. Was the man in the suit reinforcements, then, here to finish what the monsters who'd destroyed her Guild had begun? But no, she was still moving the pen. A signal to someone else? But whom? Conjecture and guesswork, she thought with frustration. I'm not made for these games of lying and espionage.

She was here for answers, regardless, and they felt tantalizingly close. So she sat down on the stool beside the table and shifted a pile of papers closer to her. "Is this just indexing and resorting, or are you looking for something? It's odd to keep a doctor and Forger occupied with busywork."

She spared another uneasy glance for the man in the corner. "Pel", she sent, "could you go find Folorian? I'm taking risks here. If things go poorly, I want him to know what's going on." 

The spren sent a silent affirmative and whisked himself away, invisible. Aln suddenly felt very alone.

@Voidus @MacThorstenson @mathiau

Quote

@mathiau You can choose how/when Pel finds you, if you'd like. He'd just give an explanation of what Aln's doing right now, and ask to be updated on Folorian's plan.

 

[MacThorstenson he/him]

Ronald worked his way down the list, moving from cabinet to cabinet pulling out names with surgical precision. While this was happening though, he listened in on the conversation happening on the other side of the room. He hadn't ever worked in a hospital before, but he had seen Grey's Anatomy. While he was mostly aware that that television show was dramatized, all good stories were based on a grain of truth. And he did not want to be here if that grain of truth manifested itself here. 

Quickly however, he ran into a roadblock. The box of files that should have contained Jamar Karim was missing, and currently was being accessed by the blond haired doctor. Normally he would just skip over the name, and circle back when the opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately as he looked over, she was twirling a pen in her hand.

Now, my dear readers, you might not realize what a twirling pen means. Perhaps some of you are blissfully unaware of the implications of such a simple action, so please allow me to inform you. A twirling pen is a sign of Alleycant, the secret language of the dark alley. Those who twirl such devious instruments, are truly terrifying creatures from the darkest of alleys. Likely they have killed dozens if not hundreds of people, and wear their victims souls as a badge of pride, spiked into their own through the most devious of methods. Cookies.

Unfortunately for Ronald's sake, he is much less paranoid then his dear narrator who nearly had a heart attack reading about pens a-twirling. Ronald saw the spinning pen and barely bat an eye. For he, in his limited knowledge, only knew enough alleycant that he could make out a phrase here or there, and he didn't recognize any that the blond haired lady transmitted. Therefore, while he was slightly suspicious, he didn't know for sure if she was DA, or merely a doctor with a rather unfortunate habit.

After glancing over there, and taking note of the situation, he decided to continue on through his list. He wouldn't jeopardize the mission off of a suspicion, and it was possible that the doctor would just pull someone else's name and return the box. As the saying goes, however, prepare for the worst and hope for the best, and if they were DA... Crem. Thats what it would be. A whole lot of crem. The odds that one department sends two different people to complete the same mission were low, but not zero. The odds that there were two different departments at work here are much, much higher. Unfortunately that could mean that we are competition. 

While the letter he had been given seemed to indicate that this matter involved the Dark Alley's in its entirety, its also possible that the letter was a fake, and that he was the rogue agent. Regardless, he was glad that he wasn't destroying the files. He might need some insurance. 

Destruction was only one part of the mission however. Forgery was the other, and how the crem was he supposed to forge some cremming folders with two doctors here? Crem. Crem Crem Crem. Why is it, that whenever time is an issue, wrenches always seem to be thrown in the plan? Just then, he heard the other nurse speak up.

"Is this just indexing and resorting, or are you looking for something? It's odd to keep a doctor and Forger occupied with busywork."

Interesting. A forger. Certainly that would be someone important, a skilled forger would participate in all types of surgeries here. Perhaps that was another mark toward making this blond haired women an agent of the Alleys. He moved to another filing cabinet, looking for the next name on his list. He still had a ways to go, and perhaps they would move out eventually. If, however, the blond haired lady's answer was suspicious, he would need to make sure she wasn't taking any of the files he needed. He sat, ready to ask about a Jamar Karim should suspicion be warranted. 

@Voidus @Rushu42

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Vivica sat at her desk, lunch tray now empty, and waited for her next visitor. Bennington hovered in the air beside her, unusually still. Neither of them looked toward the door. The visitor would not come in that way.

In the far corner of the room, the shadows pooled oddly, seeping over the floor, viscous as spilled oil. Vivica was not afraid; she had once helped someone tear open reality, after all. She had stared into the Void and felt it call her by a name that even she had never known she possessed. She had waded ankle deep in quantities of frosting that would have made an Inquisitor weep. 
No, Vivica was not afraid. But that didn’t mean she liked this visitor.

The creature surfaced from the tar-like shadows, emerging head first like a swimmer taking a long breath. The pool was barely a centimeter deep, but to this creature it might have been fathoms. Ropes of blackness dropped from its flanks, running down its legs to collect in puddles as it walked forward. The great kelpie stood before her, eyes two orbs of polished jet gleaming in a wet face. 
Benninton bristled at the thing, his violet blushing to deep indigo, his form twisting, elongating, becoming sharper and more dangerous.

”That won’t be necessary, Bennington,” Vivica said, her voice soft. She looked at the creature, and it opened its mouth. Strings of inky saliva made a soft ‘pit-pat’ against the tile floor. “It’s only come for what it’s due, after all.”

One day, she knew, it would take more than the memories of her dreams. Vivica’s mind was like a sieve - so many holes. Impossible to fix. She was a problem for this world. Unlike the other life, this one did not have a place for people like Vivica. One day, she would simply be removed.

But not today. Today was just the same as the other days. 
“Hello,” she said to the creature as the slick shadow on the floor rushed up to meet her. “You look hungry today.”

Vivica smiled as her vision went black.

[Voidus]

17 hours ago, Rushu42 said:

"Is this just indexing and resorting, or are you looking for something? It's odd to keep a doctor and Forger occupied with busywork."

"We tend to get a little overloaded at times." Laurelai admitted, at least somewhat truthfully. "Not always time to worry about where the best expenditure for resources is. Plus a Forger is typically a good choice for document review, a lot of our training goes into making patterns and understanding causes."

She tapped the page with the pen a few times, looking over a few lines and making a quick correction to some misspelled pharmaceuticals before noticing that she was receiving a reply from Lita and switched back to absently twirling the pen. She flipped over the new page and pretended to read it while mentally translating the message.

Lita's reminder that this could be attempted later was encouraging, but had the encouragement to leave been because that was the best course of action? Or because Laurelai was still untested and Lita was not confident in her ability to conceal her activities?

"But thank you, it is a fair reminder." She conceded regretfully. "I should check that there's nothing urgent first, files won't go anywhere."

She closed the file and began stacking them together, clicking her pen close though not before she absently smeared a little ink onto her thumb and from there onto the sides of the files as she picked them up. A little crude, but an easy way for her to tell on her return if any of these had been picked up since she left them.

"Excuse me." She said with a polite nod to the well-dressed administrator as she reshelved a few files near him, pausing for the barest of moments to scan the files he was looking at, and then another moment to appreciate the suit again.

"Well." She said, turning back to the woman dressed in a lab coat. "Good luck, I'll probably be back in a bit but if you're done by then I'll see you around sometime doctor..."

At the very least I can try to pull a little information out of her. Laurelai thought as she waited for the woman to respond to the prompt for her name.

[Rushu42 she/her]

Aln wanted to object as the doctor began to put away the files, but she couldn't find the right words in time. Instead, all she could do was note their location on the shelf and hope that she could find a way to retrieve them without arousing the suspicion of the suited man.

But where was she going in such a sudden hurry? Had Aln been wrong about what she'd been looking for? Maybe she wasn't already in the know; maybe she was doing the same thing Aln was, breaking in for information, and was worried about being caught. Wouldn't that be an unlikely coincidence, Aln thought wryly. Lost in thought, it took her a moment to realize that the doctor was asking for her name.

"Oh! I'm Sh- Shanaran. Doctor Shanaran. And you?"

@Voidus

[MacThorstenson he/him]

"We tend to get a little overloaded at times. Not always time to worry about where the best expenditure for resources is. Plus a Forger is typically a good choice for document review, a lot of our training goes into making patterns and understanding causes."

Well shoot. A Forger would also be adapt at picking up on forgeries and document modifications. And yet another wrench appears. Just after he thought that, the blond haired doctor continued, "But thank you, it is a fair reminder. I should check that there's nothing urgent first, files won't go anywhere." Perhaps the wrench was removed. He heard shuffling papers, walking, and then a quick "Excuse me" from the doctor.

"No worries," He replied, while stepping aside to give her enough room to shelf her files. After taking a quick look at said files, he noticed her eye's lingering on his suit.

"Like what you see?" He asked with a slight grin.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

3 hours ago, Rushu42 said:

"Oh! I'm Sh- Shanaran. Doctor Shanaran. And you?"

"Laurelai." She said without hesitation. "Or Doctor Esserethel if we need to be particularly formal about it."

No point concealing her name here, asking about a blonde forger who worked for the hospital would earn two names, and lovely as Nyen was the woman was 4'8" if she was anything and her short, dyed hair would be difficult to mistake for Laurelai's.

As she finished reshelving the well-dressed man seemed to catch her watching.

"Like what you see?" He asked with a slight grin.

She cocked an eyebrow in a mock-scandalized expression for a moment before her own grin came through.

"Hard not to like good craftsmanship." She noted, stepping a little closer and flicking the lapel. "Especially when paired with imported Nalthian silks, say what you will about the ethics of resurrecting the dead as a labour force the Nalthians sure do know their fabrics. And of course the rest of it..."

Her eyes ran along the fitting for a moment, custom tailored of course. And expensive, but not just expensive, well chosen as well. Either a talented personal stylist or a personal appreciation for the finer points of fashion. And of course a talented tailor to fit it to the man in question, an excellent fit and fine piece of craftsmanship. All too often the wealthy but clueless purchased a fine enough suit but it ended up wearing them rather than the other way around.

"West and Carson's?" She said, hazarding a guess as to tailor. They'd arrived from one of the more modern timelines of Scadrial a few years back and secured themselves a rather excellent and satisfied client list in that short time.

[Ashbringer he/him]

On 3/11/2022 at 3:13 PM, mathiau said:

NullBlade frowned. What would Cadmium savantism even do? Make time in the bubble flow even faster?

He was about to ask when the doctor made them enter an examination room

"Which of you want to go first?" He asked

"You should probably go first, considering yours is actually life threatening"

Hers was life-threatening... Cassie wasn't entirely sure how true that was, or how true it was compared to NullBlade's. Aluminum was a... strange metal. If he really was constantly burning it, constantly blocking any Investiture from his soul... well, Cassie knew enough about Hemalurgy to know a soul and Investiture weren't so different. One soul threatening to turn to bronze, one threatening to cut itself off from all reality. Weren't they a pair. But that level of damage wouldn't arise quickly, and he'd know his own symptoms better than she would.

"I can go first. Just don't run off on me," she said. The exam room was largely bare, with a small counter with a few normal-enough looking instruments, a chair with arm and neck supports, a shaded window. All in all, it looked like a doctor's room, with a few mundane items switched for Invested ones. So Cassie simply took a seat in the exam chair.

It creaked. Well, wasn't that excellent. 

"I've used a Soulcaster for... upwards of a decade now. Mainly to sell metals, sometimes on larger projects, but it's been in heavy use for most of that time. I'm not sure how much it's affected me, but it's definitely fairly far along," she said. Then she reached and pulled off the glove on her left hand.

If someone told Cassie that she was looking at a cast-bronze arm for a new sculpture, she would have believed it. Even looking closer, the first thing she noticed was that the arm wasn't bronze, but instead some interesting alloy that looked like bronze. Some of the details were still there, the places veins popped out slightly, the slight signs of her wearing some sort of glove for most of her adult life, even the small hairs. But they were all metal, shiny and solid.

She turned the arm. It responded to her motion, slowly, the metal seeming to bend as if under a great strain before neatly reforming to the new shape. Cassie didn't know exactly what that meant, if it was only metal on the surface or it was some organic, functional one. The few Soulcaster savants she'd known still managed to function with limbs of stone and glass, but she really had no idea.

"Well, that's what it looks like. My left side is largely the same way, possibly some internal systems. It doesn't hurt, just makes me feel... sluggish, slow. And apparently heavy. I don't know if there's a point where it'll actually hurt... I really don't know much about it at all. Just a cost of doing business. And I'd like to keep doing business."

She looked up. "Does that make se-"

Cassie recoiled. The room was different. At least part of it. There was a massive crack... no, a rift on the side of the wall, moving over to the window. But the window was just missing the glass, the wall was a different color. Dark grey, with stains on the walls. She knew what those were. But the nurse... he didn't seem to give any mind. He was looking at her arm, with a vaguely concerned expression on his face.

"There isn't much we can do to reset Soulcasting damage, either from savant progression or a targeted application. We could attempt to Soulcast it back to flesh and blood, but that's a very risky procedure. Otherwise mundane supports like walking canes can help. But we don't really have anything that can treat the underlying condition, especially if you want to keep using the fabrial."

The rift in the wall widened, edges blurring slightly. The nurse rubbed their head. "I can try and... see if there is internal damage. Basically a small biopsy on your upper shoulder, except we're trying to see whether the needle stops before it should. Should at least give us an idea if you need to be booked in the Spiritual Ward for some form of... some form of treatment. Sorry, I've got a bit of a headache."

The rift stretched an end over the countertop, over what looked like an eye scanner. The countertop became dark, with a sticky red on the surface. The scanner became something else. At first Cassie thought it was a spike, but no, it was just a scalpel. That didn't exactly make it less unnerving.

The nurse didn't notice. Instead he walked over, nearly sticking his hand in the rift in the air, instead grabbing a small needle. "This should only hurt a bit," he said. But Cassie could see the small furrow in his brow. And the way he held the needle far too tightly.

What the rusts?

@mathiau @Fatebreaker

Quote

Fatebreaker - How's that for reality starting to break? Need to get Cassie into the plot somehow 

I can edit it if that's not what you had in mind for what an unForged individual would see.

 

[Rushu42 she/her]

Aln watched in bemusement as the doctor - Laurelai - turned to the man and started discussing - his clothes? Aln couldn't fathom why. Unless... it could be code. More signaling, like the pen. Now you're just being paranoid, she told herself. Of course, can you really be too paranoid when breaking into a hospital to uncover the secrets of a shadowy organization that's somehow rewritten the memories of the entire world? It somewhat puts things in perspective.

She kept an eye on the pair as she stepped over to one of the shelves, hoping that their conversation would keep them from looking too closely at what files she took. She scanned the shelf and took a few at random - but made sure to grab one of the ones that Laurelai had returned. Still standing, she flipped open the first one and began to scan through it. It was an interesting case - a man whose Spiritweb had been damaged to the point where only disparate parts of his body were included in his Identity - but it wasn't relevant to what she was looking for, so she forced herself to move on. The next file was similarly interesting, which she supposed made sense. Mundane injuries would just be treated with Progression or unkeyed F-gold; only truly unusual cases would warrant detailed records. As fascinating as the case was, parasitic worms that exhibited the effects of A-chromium still wasn't what she was looking for, so she flipped on. The next document was one that Laurelai had reshelved, and Aln's heart leapt as she read the condition summary: 'False memories, manifestations of phantom investiture, sudden amnesia'. Fingers tightening on the edges of the document, she read on.

The file seemed to describe an older woman who'd reported vivid memories of events that had, by all record, never occurred. While strange, in its specificity, this could easily have been written off as a symptom of dementia - if not for the allomancy. The woman had no innate Investiture, but she had memories of access to A-pewter, and at odd moments she would exhibit bursts of inexplicable strength. The hospital had placed her under observation while they tried to puzzle out the mystery (to no avail). About a week after she had been admitted, however, all displays of allomancy vanished, as did her false memories. In fact, all of her memories of the past month were gone. The only irregularity reported was a broken window latch. Eventually, with no clear medical symptoms to treat, she was discharged. 

Did they take any notes on the "false memories"? Aln flipped another page, excitement rising. All I know is what I can remember. Maybe there's some clue, some tidbit about the DA buried somewhere in this woman's recollections. Even regardless, it was confirmation, real confirmation, that Aln wasn't just crazy. As scary as the alternative was, she couldn't stop the rush of relief. 

@Voidus @MacThorstenson

[mathiau he/him]

On 13/03/2022 at 8:57 AM, Ashbringer said:

 

"Are you alright?" The nurse asked, not realising she looked more shaken than Cassandra did. "I you're afraid of needles then try too look away from it, it will help a bit"

NullBlade frowned, that was not the face of someone scared of needles. No, it was closer to the face him and his sister had made the first time they'd stepped in cognitive realm, or the one Mene did when she observed his Shardblade. It was the face of someone who saw something that according to everything they thought they should be impossible.

"Are you seeing something we don't, Cassandra?" He'd heard Radiant peered in the cognitive realm, maybe that was what she was currently doing?

Quote

Hers was life-threatening... Cassie wasn't entirely sure how true that was, or how true it was compared to NullBlade's. Aluminum was a... strange metal. If he really was constantly burning it, constantly blocking any Investiture from his soul... well, Cassie knew enough about Hemalurgy to know a soul and Investiture weren't so different. One soul threatening to turn to bronze, one threatening to cut itself off from all reality. Weren't they a pair. But that level of damage wouldn't arise quickly, and he'd know his own symptoms better than she would.

Quote

Well that's something I hadn't thought of. Considering you need an insane amount of power (possibly an impossible amount) to damage a Spren with chromium, I think Null's spark of life should be fine.

Honestly I'm basically seeing his soul as an airtight container, almost nothing can get in and everything inside is protected. Which currently includes the Forgery.

[Ashbringer he/him]

Byron dashed down the hall. Well, dashed wasn't the right word, seeing as he was walking like he'd had a few too many meads for his 16-year-old body. He could at least see fine, but his legs weren't... listening to him. Too used to trying to counter for every passerby, every curve in the walls, every smidgen of motion that crossed his cadmium bubble. But while the Leecher nurse was willing to give him a cane - or at least just let him take it - they seemed a bit too hesitant to give him a prescription for toxic heavy metals when he'd just woken up from what amounted to an invested coma. He had a bit more cadmium, but this was a rare experience for Byron - walking around without the bubble, but also without any cadmium in his system threatening to melt his insides.

And rusts, he could see. His limbs may betray him without the metal, but his eyes and his brain were processing information at a wild speed. He didn't actually know enough to draw much, but he could gather an... energy to the halls. The Spiritual Ward, that's what a sign said. He couldn't tell if the slight tension was just something about a hospital that he hadn't seen enough, or just people in general outside a bubble. But that didn't seem like what it was. It seemed... off.

Byron kept moving. A few people were looking at him strangely. A lab coat would be nice, but at least he wasn't wearing a hospital gown. That was the other thing. An inebriated kid... usually that drew attention. It wasn't. 

There.

Something was moving along the corner of the wall. A dark line of ink. It was hard to see, but it shouldn't have gotten that far past that many people. It was going slowly, about walking pace, but it was clearly staying hidden and moving in one direction.

Okay... why would a line of ink be heading one way. That was weird.

Wait...

No.

Wait, why was he here? He'd been running... either chasing something or running from something. Maybe a bit of both. But... it wasn't something like this. It was something different. But still.

Byron was about to let it be when he turned and saw the second tendril. And then a third. All staying in the edges of the hallways, all heading the same direction. Okay, that was weird. Very weird.

He leaned on his cane and started following. Not as fast as he'd like, but faster than he could with cadmium. This was strange enough.

 

5 hours ago, mathiau said:

Well that's something I hadn't thought of. Considering you need an insane amount of power (possibly an impossible amount) to damage a Spren with chromium, I think Null's spark of life should be fine.

Honestly I'm basically seeing his soul as an airtight container, almost nothing can get in and everything inside is protected. Which currently includes the Forgery.

Quote

Yeah, he'd probably be fine. It's just something that Cassie would think of, especially since she's still in denial of how much the Soulcaster's affected her.

I'll try and respond soon, but I want to at least give @Fatebreaker a chance to see if it'll break anything to have Cassie seeing rifts and Byron seeing... whatever these monsters are. (Byron is somewhat affected by the Forgery due to Things, but Cassie's untouched. That's why she can see the rift the nurse is causing.)

[MacThorstenson he/him]

"Hard not to like good craftsmanship." The doctor, or should he say Laurelai, noted, stepping a little closer and flicking the lapel. "Especially when paired with imported Nalthian silks, say what you will about the ethics of resurrecting the dead as a labour force the Nalthians sure do know their fabrics. And of course the rest of it..."

Her eyes traveled up the suit, before she hazarded a guess at the tailors "West and Carson's?"

He nodded and grinned, "I have them do most of my suits, and they haven't led me wrong yet."

After a slight pause he continued, "I must say it is nice to find someone who appreciates a nice suit in this place. Despite all the money flowing around, few seem to appreciate the nicer things in life." 

Careful Ronny, he cautioned himself, She could be DA. We know what happens around DA folk. He thought back to a PSA that had crossed his desk several months ago regarding an insane acolyte with a hallucinatory octopus. The things that that lady did still kept him up at night. He coughed slightly, seemingly becoming a bit more aware of his surroundings. 

"That said I don't think I would wear one this nice if I worked with the patients constantly. And speaking of patients," He glanced down at his list, still in his hand, "I still have a number of files I need to locate, so if you'll excuse me, I must be about my business." He coughed lightly, "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dr. Laurelai? Was it? Perhaps we shall see each other again."

He turned around glancing behind him at the other doctor that had nearly immediately walked over to the filing cabinets where Laurelai had dropped her files off. Interesting. Perhaps too interesting. She was excitedly flipping through a file, which again was odd. Having found several files in his life, Ronald was quite sure that they weren't exciting. Though he supposed that a doctor might see things differently. They tended to be better people then him.  

Carefully, he made his way down the row, gathering the files for those who weren't near the other Doctor, all the while carefully keeping an eye on her. If she moved to another place that Laurelai had been, it would certainly be cause for suspicion. After all, why wouldn't she simply ask to borrow them while they were out?

@Voidus @Rushu42

Edited March 15, 2022 by MacThorstenson

[Voidus]

"Perhaps we shall." Laurelai replied with a smile, drinking the man's appearance in one final time before turning and making for the door.

She spared a glance for the other woman, 'Doctor Shanaran' and saw her pulling some of the files Laurelai had reshelved. Well that was to be expected, she'd as good as told Laurelai what she was working on so that wouldn't be a surprise. The real question was whether or not anyone else was also looking into this.

Retrieved a little info. She sent to Lita. And managed to extract myself out without much issue. Doesn't seem like anybody is following but will duck in and out of the Alleys to be sure.

She gave a few smiles to the other doctors, nurses and patients as she made her way out and was almost tempted to drop in on Vivica but what would be the point? Perhaps she should ask her father to check in at some point, the poor woman could probably do with a friendly face that wasn't trying to sedate her.

She hesitated for a moment as she exited the hospital front doors and back onto the busy streets of the city, momentarily disoriented by the light change before she adjusted and her blue eyes locked onto a nearby alleyway. Making a beeline for it she tried to remember what Lita had talked to her about and felt a stab of throbbing pain that seemed to reverberate through her body. And then she felt a connection, a sense of some grand, infinite labyrinth that connected every place to every other place in a pattern so astoundingly chaotic and confusing that it made even Soulstamping feel like a child drawing stick figures.

Shift. She thought, trying to nudge the pattern as she needed it and gratefully feeling an acceptance. The whole plan adjusted to fit her request into it, becoming ever more convoluted as she stepped into the darkness. A disorienting experience, somehow both familiar and vastly incomprehensible. But she had arrived in the Alleys again, for now she should try to find Lita again.

But while we're walking...

She pulled a sketchpad from her back and balanced it comfortably in one hand while the other pulled a pencil free and she began a loose outline. The oval of a face, sharp neck lines turning into well-squared shoulders. And of course that suit was unforgettable. If she showed this at West and Carson's she should be able to get a name for at least one of the two individuals who had briefly cohabited the records room with her.

@ZincAboutIt

[mathiau he/him]

17 hours ago, Ashbringer said:

Yeah, he'd probably be fine. It's just something that Cassie would think of, especially since she's still in denial of how much the Soulcaster's affected her.

I'll try and respond soon, but I want to at least give @Fatebreaker a chance to see if it'll break anything to have Cassie seeing rifts and Byron seeing... whatever these monsters are. (Byron is somewhat affected by the Forgery due to Things, but Cassie's untouched. That's why she can see the rift the nurse is causing.)

Quote

Ok, I had taken Fate's silence an authorisation.

Also, tags don't work inside quote boxes

@Fatebreaker