16 Year Peace

[Life&Death]

Near the End of 16 Year Peace

 

Ski finished off her training exercise with a flourish, sweat streaming down her face se gasped for breath. She had long outgrown minders while she trained, and preferred to do it by herself. retracting her crystal sword she strapped the hilt to her belt and walked outside towards her uncle, who sat on a bench under a tree. Waving Ski ran towards him.

"Hey Uncle! You know I've turned 16 a couple months ago, and you promised to take me to this mysterious 'Alleyverse' when I was 16. So when shall we go?" Ine Amber was regarded as slightly crazy by everyone Ski knew, mostly because of his interesting views on science, and because of his belief in a place called the Alleyverse. Ski believed his stories when she was younger, but now her belief hung on one thing. The fact that he promised to take her there when she was 16. The longer she was 16 and her uncle didn't take her, the less she believed him.

"Taking you to the Alleyverse is not like taking you to the store, or even to the Hushlands, Ski. It is taking you to a place where whole new physical laws apply, and investure is the main power. But you are right. I said we would go when you are 16, and yes, you have been 16 for a while." He trailed off, thinking.

"So....are you going to finally take me to where you say I was born?" The stories her uncle told her mostly involved  what happened to her parents and why Uncle Amber took her to the Free Kingdoms. 

"You were born here, in the Free Kingdoms Ski. You know that. You were raised, on the other hand, in the Alleyverse for your first year of life. The reason I brought you back, was because of the war."

"Yes, I know about the war that the "Ghostbloods" started." Ski said, doing air quotations around the word "Ghostbloods". 

"I have told you about them many times, yet you don't seem to understand that they are as real as you and me, and if we go to the Alleyverse, you will meet them."

"If they are real, I will kill them uncle. And don't say that I can't, I am one of the greatest Knights of Crystalia ever!"

"You are very naive. But the only way to cure that is through experience. Go and tell your instructors that we are leaving for a while, and that we might not come back. Tonight I will give you some more information about the Alleyverse, and then we will go."

"Really!" Ski squealed.

"You are entirely to excited and not cautious enough."

"Whatever uncle. I'll be right back." Knowing that they would finally be leaving to the Alleyverse seemed to rekindle her belief in the place. Strange.

"You'd think that becoming a knight and battling librarians for 6 years would make you more serious." Mr. Amber muttered.

 

That evening.

 

"The first thing you need to know is that nearly everyone you see there is part of a guild. The main ones are the DA, TUBA, Black Crusade, Liebrary....

"Library! Why haven't you destroyed them."

"You can't just destroy a guild. They are very powerful and document history. They don't keep everyone in ignorance because there isn't much they can hide besides their own secrets. Now don't interrupt. Those are the most powerful guilds, although there are smaller ones that include members from all of these guilds." Amber handed Ski a book. "This book---now don't look at me like that, it's not evil---has details about the guilds. The next thing you need to know is that magic is extremely common in the Alleyverse. All sorts of magic which are too varied to go into at the moment. They are very different from the types of magic you know, so be on guard."

"All right, what are we going to do there?"

"I am going to open a chocolate shop. You on the other hand will explore and learn about this new world. Hopefully neither of us will die. Now lets leave."

With that Mr. Amber and Ski left the building, entered the black glass car, and drove to a remote location near a river.

"Now stay here." Mr Amber ordered as he got out of the car. Pulling a small fabrial from his suit he flipped a switch and the ground slid apart, revealing a small perpendicularity.

"Whawasthat!" Ski shrieked as Mr. Amber got back into the car. 

"A form of technology you will get very familiar with in the Alleyverse." He calmly replied. Gesturing forward the car sped into the swirling pool and vanished.

In Shadesmar, a black car exploded from the ocean of spheres and drove onto a narrow strip of land. Mr. Amber flipped a switch on the inside of his car and it transformed from Free Kingdom technology to a fabrial powered car. 

"Stormlight is the easiest fuel source here. Even easier than sand." Glancing over, Mr. Amber saw Ski's face. She was completely stunned and speechless, simply watching the strange land outside. Sighing he flipped another switch which made the car start to glow. An enormous flash followed and the car was back into the physical realm, this time of the Alleyverse.

Edited August 19, 2018 by Life&Death

[Kidpen]

On the last day of the Seven Day War, a boy was born in a small Rosharan village. This boy was not the firstborn of that family. There was a brother of about a year older. The two brothers loved and cared for each other. The younger idolized the older, while the older protected the younger.

One day, about 14 years later, the two siblings had gone far away from their farm, exploring, when a whitespine attacked. Immediately going for the weaker of the two, the younger brother was attacked. The older brother new that he should run, but he couldn't. Instead, he ran for the whitespine, and tackled it. This was destined to fail-he was a fifteen year old boy, and that was a storming whitespine. But as he jumped, he shouted something. "I will protect those who cannot protect themselves!" Suddenly, his body exploded in a flash of.... stormlight? Somehow, Tran killed the whitespine with that single tackle, his cuts and bruises melting away. Mahz gaped at him in awe.

Over the next year, the two brothers experimented quite a bit with his newfound powers. He was able to stick things together, change gravity, and attract things towards something. They also met a small wispy spren.

Then Darkness killed Tran.

This devastated Mahz. He began to slip into depression over the next months. But eventually, that depression turned to anger. He wanted to seek Darkness out and take his revenge. But he knew he wouldn't be successful. So eventually he made his decision. He chose to make the journey to the Nightwatcher and ask for the power to kill Darkness.

That's what he did. It took him over six months to get there, but eventually he did.

Mahz stepped into the valley, then stopped as the strange black spren began to creep up to him. This is it. This is my chance to make it right, he thought. To take my revenge on the dark man. He stepped up boldly to the spren and spoke his wish.

"I wish-I wish for enough power to take my revenge on the man who killed my brother." The Nightwatcher paused for a moment at this.

"I can't provide this to you myself." Mahz's heart sank, "But I can give you the potential to earn it yourself. First, I'll give you the ability to learn at an incredibly fast rate. Second, I'll ferry you to a world where you are far more likely to succeed. I wish you luck. Goodbye." And with that Mahz found himself in a strange land next to a shack.

[Gancho Libre]

It decided to change It's name.

It was strolling across the ocean, not actually touching the water but close enough to it than when It moved Its legs in a walking manner it gave the impression that It was walking.

In reality It did this by using stormlight to hover, then swimming through the air with carefully-hid arm movements.

As It strolled, It decided a new Pronoun that It would use to describe Itself.

It was now IOC, an acronym standing for 'It, of course,'

Whenever using such a name became tiresome or grammatically incorrect, IOC decided to use the term 'it' (without uppercase or italics) as a backup term.

IOC then decided to squeeze the last two letters of it's name to simply Ioc, as it was easier to write or type.

Ioc smiled, then decided it should change also the voices it used to describe different viewpoints inside it's own head.

In recent times, Ioc had used character names, such as 'Captain Obvious' or 'Batman', but the problem with those was that they were too restricting.

Ioc had the brilliant idea to then personification-ize different parts of it's metaphorical brain.

Ioc smiled. It would work on the personalities fro the different voices for it's contemplation, but for now Ioc silenced the voices.

Ioc was not insane. Ioc was too intelligent to go insane. It simply didn't know what to say to others without knowing their mind first.

Then, Ioc had discovered a world far away, the Earth, when it had folded into another dimension and that had twisted into a dimension off that, a place where a closely monitored boy was reported saying to a young girl that he made decisions using different personas.

Ioc had adapted that immediately.

Now Ioc began whistling. It knew it's real name, G. Libre, but for now it would keep this nickname.

Ioc paused in it's wanderings, tilting it's head.

It stood still for several moments.

Then Ioc walked on.

[little wheel]

Ah oops got mixed up. Silas is a cadmium Misting, zinc Ferring, and hemalurgically granted steel Ferring.

[Gancho Libre]

Ioc began developing the voices. It decided on several brain parts, including the prefrontal cortex, the amygdala, the thalamus, and several more to be it's advisers. Ioc knew there was much more to the brain than it's invented personalities, but Ioc knew it couldn't include all of them. Brains in general were just so complex.

So, Ioc just chose the functions that could be easily defined by a talking voice. The prefrontal cortex to suggest restraint, the amygdala to suggest action, and the thalamus to keep it informed on the sensory workings of it's body.

Ioc wished it could just separate it'm mind into different entities entirely, but it knew that the voices would only speak after it's subconscious already knew everything they were going to say.

Ioc concentrated. How would it put a personality to the hippocampus, or the cerebellum? Those didn't have obvious answers, because if Ioc knew everything right off the bat, it would be too powerful. Ioc would have to think hard, maybe with the help of some of the easier voices...

Ioc frowned, then resumed whistling. It had been standing still for over an hour. Ioc hovered over the sea, then began to glow beige as it considered an option. There was one being in the Cosmere who might have an idea of different personas that could be used for some of the harder brain functions...

========Five minutes later, the Cognitive Realm========

"You want me to do what?" Nei'an asked incredulously at the glowing beige figure.

[Lord Meeker]

Time: Year fifteen of the sixteen year peace

Location: Somewhere...

 

Aurell Faine breathed in. Stromlight enveloping her. She faded from the natural view. To the normal average person she would appear like the surrounding foliage. Her decoy, off to her left crouched in the bush. Solace First, her mentor, or so he called himself, sat eye closed upon the only rock in the near vicinity. She stealthily closed in on him, shardblade already summoned. Once she was close enough she struck with a flurry of blows, using her decoy-which held a sniper rifle- to fire a shot first, in hopes to distract Solace. It didnt work. She ended up on the ground, illusion gone.

"When you live as long as I do you learn things. Things you can not comprend." Solace said. "Pro tip, never wear metal."

That is right, Aurell had forgotten that he could see metal with his spike. Though she made sure she wasn't wearing any metal. Solace had seen the mineral metal in her body.

Part two of her plan. A whitespine jumped from the brush gouging her with it's claws. She dropped, stormlight extinguished, she cried out when she hit the ground. Solace killed the beast with a coin to the back of its snarling throat. This two was a decoy. She had soulcast the illusion to give it weight. Solace knelt down to the ground beside her.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned.

Then she struck, her hand shot out yanking the spike from his face. Solace First dropped immediately. SHe stood.

"I finally won! Take that old man!" Aurell said.

Then she noticed that Solace wasn't moving.

"Dad?" She asked hesitantly.

She dropped beside him, checking for a pulse. There was none. Solace First was dead. Aurell didn't know how long she cried for.

Mercenaries don't cry. Solace's voice whispered in the back of her head. Stand up, be brave, you can't weep for fallen allies or foes slaughtered. You are Aurell Rhazien Faine.

She stood, spike still in her hand. She moved to gather her stuff she had brought and headed back to the house Solace and Aurell had lived in. It was time to go.

Edited August 19, 2018 by Mraize

[Gancho Libre]

Quote

@Mraize now I feel bad. My character is frolicking around while yours is loosing their parents.

Here's some moodiness to make me feel better:

Ioc suddenly began to feel sad.

[Lord Meeker]

6 minutes ago, Gancho Libre said:

@Mraize now I feel bad. My character is frolicking around while yours is loosing their parents.

Here's some moodiness to make me feel better:

Quote

Well technically she lost three parents... maybe?  

Though I do have a question. Does what I did count as Self-character-side?

 

[+Sorana]

12 hours ago, Mraize said:

Well technically she lost three parents... maybe?  

Though I do have a question. Does what I did count as Self-character-side?

In a way it does, yes.

 

 

 

About the beginning of year four after the war

 

 

Damaya ducked the grasping hands of a man and ran towards the end of the alley. She got too old for this. At eleven she was already a lot bigger than the other children and it proved to be a disadvantage. The younger ones were sometimes given food by nice men or women, but she, she was too old to look cute or helpless. She was old enough to work, they said, except that there wasn’t any work for a street urchin like herself. The last years without any regular food had left her body weaker than it should be and she had never had the chance to learn a craft. Sometimes she could earn a few Chrysts at the market, but usually nobody wanted her near their wares. So she survived by stealing food, by sitting in the street, begging for anything someone was willing to give to her. Recently a few men had approached her, offered her a full warm meal, she only had to let them have a bit of fun. Damaya had run away, frightened by the sheer thought of what they proposed. But a few days later the thought of a warm meal, a full warm meal only for herself. It became more and more powerful, luring her down a path she never thought she would even consider.
“Over here.”
she heard Coru’s voice and turned towards his nearly invisible form on a wall. She had accepted him as some sort of help, sometimes during the last winter, when she thought she would die either from cold or from hunger. Hastening down the next alley she followed him through the maze, over a wall and finally she saw the boards that were her own. There were still a few ruins left, and she slept in one of them, her form concealed by torn wooden boards. Hiding behind them she tried to calm her breathing and listened for those who had followed her. It was quiet, nobody came. She had lost them again. There was a part of her, that knew, that one day, she wouldn’t be able to loose them, that one day they would catch her and cut of her hand because she was a theif, but not today. And hopefully not tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

Half a year later

 

 

“Got you.”

The guard grabbed her tunic and slammed her into the wall of an house. Damaya suppressed a cry and only stared at him. Her hand still clutched the pouch she had stolen from a woman a few minutes ago. Coru sat on a wall, and she could see him turning in strange circles, like painting a picture. A frightened, dark picture. Wriggling against his grip she tried to get free, to find a chance to bolt. But he simply slapped her across the face.
“Be quiet.”

Damaya stared into his dark, cold eyes and found no mercy there, no kindness. Only the promise of capture and pain.

“You’ve got her?”

A woman arrived, flanked by another two guards. She was young, maybe in her twenties and she wore a dress without too many patches and a pair of good boots. Not really rich, but definitely not poor either.

“Who are you?”

She addressed Damaya, her voice soft, the words spoken out clearly. She held herself with an innate grace, that Damaya usually knew from daughters whose only aim was to marry a good and rich man. Composed, well-spoken, educated.

“Damaya.”

She answered, after the guard held up his hand again, threatening to hit her. Another one grabbed the pouch and when she didn’t let go he pressed her hand into the wall until she sobbed in pain and let it fall down onto the ground.

“Damaya.”

The woman said her name softly looking her up and down.

“I don’t like it, when someone steals my belongings, Damaya.”

Her voice was still soft, emotionless like she stated a fact.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Damaya started begging, but the woman shook her head.

“You will do it again. Don’t lie to yourself or to me. The moment you are hungry you will steal again. And since nobody caught you so far, you have to be rather good.”

Again she stated facts and Damaya looked at her again, into her eyes. They were cold, and there was something else. Sadness? Maybe, she wasn’t really sure. The woman stepped closer, touching her hair, brushing it out of Damayas face.

“You look like her.”

She said, her voice sounding lost.

“She would be as old as you are right now.”

Her fingers caressed Damayas cheek and Damaya tried to get away, but the guard’s grip held her firmly pressed against the wall.

“Take her. Nobody will miss an orphan.”

She hesitated.

“You are an orphan?”

Damaya kept silent, she didn’t want to go with the woman, she wanted to run away.

“Yes, she is.”

The third guard answered the question and Damaya looked at him for the first time. Her gut clenching. She knew him. Everybody knew him. He made a point in getting to know all the orphans living on the streets. And he made a point in letting them entertain him. She had escaped him “attentions” because he preferred his girls, or his boys, a bit older. They all tried to escape him, but he had money and money was power. And if there was one thing an orphan didn’t had, then it was someone who stood up for them, who defended them. It was easier to let this guard continue and save the children of those with work, than to look after those that were lost, those that lived next to the society. The woman nodded and turned to her:

“I have an offer for you. Either we remove your hand and send you out again to die. From cold, from the injury, through hunger.”

Again her fingers moved over Damayas cheek.

“Or you behave yourself, learn what I give you to learn, start being a good little girl. Then you can live with me at my house. It’s your decision.”

She turned around and started to walk away.

“Put her into the cellar and give her something to eat. And tell her to wash. She should think about her options.”

 

Edited August 19, 2018 by Sorana

[Gancho Libre]

Ioc finally finished forming the Amygdala, giving it a personality, voice, and false intelligence.

'Come on,' it said immediately. 'You have other personalities to make up,'

'Maybe,' said Prefrontal Cortex, 'You might want to wait before your urge to finish up forces your mind to hurry, and thus give several different personalities the same base. Each one deserves careful thought and consideration,'

'This is true,' said Association Cortex and Hippocampus in unison. 'It should be obvious that your previous behavior marks fast work as terrible work,'

'I need a way to answer them,' Ioc thought.

'That'll do,' said Amygdala. 'Also, you need to hurry. There's not much time,'

'Huh,' Ioc thought. 'I can speak with them through my mind,'

Everyone gave it a blank stare.

'Of course, you can,' said Association Cortex. 'we are in your mind,'

'Gotcha,' said Ioc. 'This'll come in hand,'

Hippocampus slapped his forehead with his hand.

[+Sorana]

About the beginning of year five

Damaya smiled politelty, though the smile felt frozen und unreal on her face, the woman was satisfied.
"You may eat."
Her voice was still soft and Damaya hated it. She hated everything about this place. Except for the food, and the books, and the cloths and the bed. Those she liked. A lot, if was honest with herself. Life here was better. Her chances to survive her childhood had exploded, but she had exchanged the freedom of the streets for a golden cage. The woman, she had a name, but Damaya made a point to think of her only as the woman, definitly was crazy. Not a good kind of crazy, but more a dangerous mind twisting kind of crazy. Damaya was her dead daughter. And so she had to behave like a person she never met, had to spend her time sitting next to the woman, so that she could be seen. These were the good days. The days the woman was more or less lucid.
On the bad days everybody tried to avoid her, as the woman was screaming, throwing stuff around, sometimes hitting the servants. Or Damaya if she got close.

So Damaya, like everyone else developped some kind of routine. The good days were for work, the bad days for hiding. At first it felt strange to live that, but after a while it became a twisted sense of natural. Damaya thought about leaving, even stood at the door one day looking outside, but then she turned around. She couldn't leave, she couldn't go back to the streets. This wasn't the life she wanted, but it was life. And maybe, when she was older, when she could earn some money, maybe then she could leave once and for all.

Most days she practiced writing, or studied. The woman even paid tutors and Damaya grew to love this part over everything else. The tutors told her stories about countries and worlds who were far away, and she listened to them, wishing she could travel there one day.

 

About the beginning of year thirteen

"She needs to train. You can't even imagine how much money we could earn."
The woman seemed unconviced, but the man continued.
"That's a cryptic. If she learns how to use the power, then she will be able to make Illusions. The perfect scam."
His eyes got a dreamy expression and Damaya walked backwards, until she hit the wall. Coru crawled over to her, hiding. And for once she was glad that he was here.
"Money?"
the woman asked thoughtfully. She still had some bad days, but they had receeded, had been replaced by something darker. And her new husband only enhanced this tendency.
"We need the money. I'd like to have another servant."
Satisfied that she supported him, he turned to Damaya, stopped in front of her, pushing some glowing spheres in her hands.
"Breathe that in."
he commanded, his huge form dominating everything she could see.
"What? How?"
Damaya stuttered, fear clenching down on her stomach.
"Breathe that in."
he repeated and closed his fist.
Damaya took a breath and nothing happened. And she was glad about it. She didn't want anything to happen. His fist hit her in the stomach and she doubled over, gasping for breath, pain taking over every sentinent thought.
"Breath that in."
His voice was cold, merciless and she tried to get away from him, but he caught her, hit her again, and again, and again. He repeated those three words, over and over until she dropped to the ground, unable to stand anymore, unable to do anything but lie on the ground and there was only pain. Her ears registered some words, but she wasn't able to fully understand them anymore.
"We'll try again. One day she'll get the hang on it. And if she doesn't, there's this woman teaching this stuff. She can tell her how to do it."

When she woke and started to sit up, she managed to supress a cry. It hurt, everything hurt. But what hurt the most were the spheres, lying dull next to her bed.

[Sherlock Holmes]

Tena, Fangblade, and Bud had a new residence on the side of the crater that the thermo-nuke had carved into the Alleycity. Tena had divided the money she'd gotten from helping build the Crater Ward homes and buildings two ways: one to building this house and one to buying two thousand Breaths each for Fangblade and Bud. 

The house was nice; it had a large courtyard that Tena had carved into the cliff side with her spren and the help of a Lightweaver, nice anti-radiation Aons, and sturdy stone walls. Such a place felt empty, however. Tena felt she needed kids or something to fill it. She was certainly old enough to have children. 

Quote

*ahem ahem* If anybody would like to offer to be husband or adopted orphan, that would be great. 

I was being sarcastically serious, by the way. 

 

Edited August 20, 2018 by AxeliustheGreat

[little wheel]

My new character:

Spoiler

 

Name: Silas Jostson

Species: Scadrian Human.

Race:

• Half Terris.

• Half Southern Scadrian Hunter

Age: 25 (when the 16 Year Peace ends)

Investiture:

• Allomantic Cadmium.

• Feruchemic Zinc.

• Hemalurgically granted Feruchemic Steel.

• Cadmium savant.

Appearance:

• His hair is black, short on the sides while long on top and the back. Is pulled into a ponytail by a bone ring.

• Neatly trimmed black goatee.

• Well-kept clothing, usually white, grey, or black.

• 6 feet 7 inches tall, well muscled.

Habits:

• Nearly constant snapping.

• When he wakes, he works out for about an hour and a half.

• Notoriously clean mouth.

History: When he was two, his parents mysteriously died. So, until he was eight, he lived with his grandfather. Unfortunately, Silas’ grandfather died the night before Silas’ ninth birthday. He was found by an unembodied shadow (Jaco), and was taught how to live on the streets. When he was nearly sixteen, he was taken in by a master of combat to train. (Nohadon, this is where you come in.) The rest of his story will be added later.

 

@Nohadon

Edited August 21, 2018 by JacobClaessen

[Gancho Libre]

Ioc was done. The voices were awake.

And it was being driven crazy.

'Breath. Your breathing pace is increasing, as is your blood pressure. Just breath,' said Medulla.

'You are currently fully conscious and stipulated,' said Reticular Formation.

'You are currently stumbling over your step. You have tripped. Oh dear,' said Thalamus.

'PAIN! OW!!!' said Primary Somatosensory Cortex.

'Sorry about that. I was distracted. I should have helped,' said Cerebellum.

'You don't seem to have a history tripping randomly. What's the matter?' said Hippocampus.

'We distract you. Leave us behind. Destroy us!' said Amygdala.

'You seem to be experiencing immense fatigue, yet you are not in need of sleep. Association, can you help with this?' asked Hypothalamus.

'It seems the presence of so many conflicting voices in distracting you. You must make a choice that will result in our survival and yours,' said Association Cortex.

'I'm not sure our presence is actually helping. You must weigh the pros and cons. I suggest you destroy us. We are only a hindrance, and besides, we don't actually exist outside of your mind, so I don't mind dying. Your survival is more important,' said Prefrontal Cortex.

Ioc was losing its mind. Actually, its mind was fine, but it was not. Ioc picked itself off the ground, shaking its head. It needed a way to communicate with them. Just thinking to them worked, as he controlled them, but it didn't feel as though he could interact with them.

Which was dumb, because he could just force them to interact with him.

Then, it had an idea and closed its eyes.

'Shut up,' said the Almighty Subconscious. 'You are going to stay alive and help me out and you are going to like it!!!!'

And that was that.

[little wheel]

Ahh wait @Nohadon I changed my mind...

@AxeliustheGreat! ADOPT ME! I'M LONELY! PLEASE!

[+Sorana]

A few months into year thirteen

"Put it higher."
Damaya raised her staff higer and the man shook his head.
"Not like that."
He raised his staff.
"Do it like that."
She imitated his movements awkwardly. The staff felt strange in her hands. In was a simple thing, without any metal on it's end. Originally meant to be used when travelling, it looked harmless. And in her hands it was harmless.
The man knocked her softly on her right leg, reminding her that she had gotten her footing wrong again. Damaya changed her weight to her left foot and he sighed.
"I'm really bad?"
she asked and he laughed.
"There are people, who have a natural way to handle a weapon. And there are those, that have to earn every single step. But if you train long enough you can learn how to wield it properly."
The continued for a while, without any real progress on Damayas side. But it felt good to move, to do something else than wait for the evening, fear what it might bring. She didn't realize, that a serving girl had entered, a grim look on her face, when the girl spoke to her, startling her so that she lost her grip on the staff and it fell on the stone floor. The sound was loud, too loud, like a musician that a struck a wrong chord it didn't fit.
"The master wants to see you."
Without uttering another word, the guard took her staff und put it away. And again there was that weight pushing her down, pulling at her feet, making it seem like the world was about to end. Five words enough to fall down on her like a pendulum, cutting her in half, breaking her apart. She knew what the words meant, knew it too well. They stood for glowing spheres, for a fist raised in anger, for pain, excrutiating, endless pain.

Laying a hand on her back, the guard escorted her upwards, his steps slow, but his grip firm. He wouldn't let her flee, she knew that, he had a son to look after, he needed his job. And a guard who didn't listen to orders was useless. Nobody would offer him a new place to stay.
"Be strong, little one."
he whispered, before opening the door, pushing her almost gently through. Damaya looked back, but he had already closed the door. The master stood there, watching her, glowing spheres in his hands.
"You have one more chance. Afterwards, you'll go this woman. And then I expect to see results."
He walked closer and she stepped back, pressing herself against the door. For a moment she considered to try to run, to jump out of a window, but the thought was thrown away by his sheer presence, before she had a chance to really think about it.
"Breathe in."
And like everytime, nothing happend, nothing but his fist connecting to her body, but her sobs filling the room, her mind finally letting her go.
 

[+Ark1002]

Quote

I really want to do my last few write ups, but I'm on storming mobile!

 

[Sherlock Holmes]

Quote

Jaco, consider yourself adopted. 

Tena needed a kid. So she adopted a street kid, Silas. 

He was, err, a little old, but that didn't bother her that much. 

What did bother her, however, was that he grew to be nearly a foot taller than her. 

Quote

You write the rest of this, Claessen. 

 

Edited August 21, 2018 by AxeliustheGreat

[Ink]

57 minutes ago, I'm pretty said:

 

Quote

Heh. I'm on that 90% of the time. I do need to do at least a few write-ups as well.

 

[little wheel]

Quote

Let’s say Silas got adopted in year three, so he’d be eleven years old. Also, where is this house?

Silas stared out the window of his new house. He had been doing so for the past seven hours, still in shock. He hadn’t had time to mourn his grandfather while living on the streets, for he had been too busy fighting for his life. Yet now that he had time to think about it, Silas was in shock.

Edited August 21, 2018 by JacobClaessen

[Sherlock Holmes]

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Claessen, I literally just wrote that the house is on the side of the AlleyCanyon. Read what I posted a little while earlier, and you will see. 

Also, I'm giving Silas Bud, my Labrador Retriever that Mace accidentially spiked with intelligence.

Also, my character has an eleven year-old! And she'd have been, what, thirty-two when she adopted Silas? My girl has a little boy; which makes me a grandparent! Kind of.

 

Edited August 21, 2018 by AxeliustheGreat

[little wheel]

46 minutes ago, AxeliustheGreat said:

Claessen, I literally just wrote that the house is on the side of the AlleyCanyon. Read what I posted a little while earlier, and you will see.

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Dah. Sorry. Also, thanks for the doggo.

Silas was feeling a bit better. He had moved into his room, where he found a dog, Bud. He had been told this name by his adoptive mother, Tena, who he still wasn't sure what to call. Silas didn't care, at the moment. He simply waited on his bed, until a bodyless shadow walked in beneath his door.

"Hello, Silas. It seems you went and got yourself adopted. Lucky," Jaco said.

"Hey Jaco," Silas quietly responded. "How ya doin'?"

"Dead. I'm just here to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to you," Jaco answered.

"Thanks, buddy."

At the word buddy, Bud's ears perked up, and then he jumped onto Silas' bed.

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I forgot. Can Bud talk?

 

[Sherlock Holmes]

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No, but Fangblade can. So if you want to talk to him, you can.

 

[Voidus]

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Claessen, I literally just wrote that the house is on the side of the AlleyCanyon. Read what I posted a little while earlier, and you will see. 

Also, I'm giving Silas Bud, my Labrador Retriever that Mace accidentially spiked with intelligence.

Also, my character has an eleven year-old! And she'd have been, what, thirty-two when she adopted Silas? My girl has a little boy; which makes me a grandparent! Kind of.

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You cant accidentally spike something. Hemalurgy requires precision and Intent.

 

[Archer]

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When I wrote the last Mace post I intended to convey that he saw the spike that was already in the dog, which would have revealed that it was a Seekrador, had he known of them. Sorry if that wasn't clear.