inactive Odd Job Tavern

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

"You must have cared for your father a great deal to risk something like that. I imagine that regardless of what your Lordling might have done that he still had some friends who might want to track down his assassin."

Lita glanced sidelong at Laurelai, recalling the many sleepless nights she'd spent in her little flat with the dresser pushed up against the door, the windows triple locked, a dagger under her pillow. Yes, Lita had thought about retribution from her old gang - the terror had consumed her for nearly the first year she'd lived in the Alleycity. But, slowly, it had faded. It seemed as though no one had cared enough about Forian to track his killer across universes. Lucky for me.

She was about to tell Laurelai as much when she spoke again.

"Was that your first time?" She asked. "Killing."

Killing. The word traced an odd line down Lita's back, raising the hair on her neck. Lita rolled her shoulders once to ease the feeling, then poured herself half a glass more wine. She had no illusions about what she'd done, of course, but declaring a thing so plainly...

This time, Lita gave in and pulled another cigarette from her coat, using some of the stored heat from her last one to light the end. She pulled a mouthful of smoke into her lungs and let it out through her nose, the twin plumes giving shape to her sigh.

"Yes," Lita said, watching Laurelai swirl her wine, watching her watch Lita. "First time for everything, I suppose."

Bit cold, Lita, the little voice whispered. Lita took another pull on her cigarette, not letting anything show on her face, nudging her Tin a little higher. "And you?" She asked Laurelai, green eyes dark in the low light - though with Tin that darkness held no purchase on Lita. At least, not this kind of darkness. "Have you killed anyone?" 

@Voidus

Edited August 9, 2019 by ZincAboutIt
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[Voidus]

Laurelai felt her own breath catch for a moment, instantly causing herself an internal wincing when she realized that Lita would be sure to notice. She'd need to become much more proficient with hiding her physical tells if she was going to be having these sorts of conversations with a Tineye. She also chided herself, as soon as she'd asked the question she should have expected Lita to turn it back on her, that was usually part of the game after all wasn't it?

She took another sip from her glass, covering up now would be pointless and likely insulting to Lita, might as well use the opportunity.

"A few people." She hedged, still instinctively evading the question before stopping herself with a small sigh. "Seven. Seven people."

The denizens of the DA rarely talked about such matters. Sure, some occasionally tried to brag about numbers, but they were in a vast minority and most other denizens regarded the practice with disapproval. Killing wasn't difficult after all, contributions were the real measure of a denizen. But even fewer denizens discussed any qualms that they had with killing, after all if they'd had moral issues over the sanctity of human life then the DA was unlikely to be a place they settled into.

"The first time-" She halted mid sentence, unsure if she should continue, should show weakness like this. But she had promised after all, and so far Lita had upheld her end far more than Laurelai had. "The first time was an accident. I suppose that legally that means it wasn't technically murder, but..."

She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to dispel the sudden memory, the sudden rising smell of charcoal and smoke and raw, burning flesh.

"Guilt cares little for legality. I've never forgotten his face." She finished, staring once more into the bottom of the glass, seeking answers that liquor alone could not provide.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita let one auburn brow travel upwards when Laurelai admitted to killing seven people. She wasn't sure what she'd expected - more than that? Or less? 

What she definitely didn't expect was Laurelai's sudden, genuine emotion. Lita froze, watching her, forcing herself to become very still. Laurelai's face crumpled slightly as she closed her eyes, recalling something terrible, trying to fend it off. Yes, I know that face, Lita thought, Tin letting her catch the minute twitches around Laurelai's eyes, the way her mouth twisted just a bit at the corners. Disgust, disbelief.

"Guilt cares little for legality," Laurelai finished, staring down into her glass as though it were a deep well. "I've never forgotten his face."

And the other six? Lita thought. Those all on purpose then, and easier to forget? She kept that query to herself, using the moment of silence to take in another breath of smoke and compose her response. Guilt was not an emotion Lita expected to find in a Denizen of the Dark Alley, but then again Laurelai was a researcher, a woman of learning. It was no real shock to learn that she wasn't overcome with bloodlust - and to accidentally kill someone... That would certainly be its own kind of horror. But how does one accidentally kill someone, especially a person so careful and cunning as Laurelai?

Something clicked into place behind Lita's eyes as she recalled the sudden appearance of the pink soap bubbles from Laurelai's mouth back on the street. What else could 'suddenly' occur around this woman? Lita resisted the urge to scoot further back on her bar stool and tipped her head towards the ceiling, watching the smoke twist and writhe into the air above her. She would have to play this very carefully now. Lita had no doubt over the rarity of seeing this much candor from Laurelai - the woman was a vault of ice, and one poorly placed comment would close the cracks tight and flush. There would be no charming the truth out of her, Lita would need to keep trading secrets of her own if she wished to obtain Laurelai's.

Anything is attainable, Lita. She wrinkled her nose once, then took a sip from her glass.

"After I killed Forian, I kept telling myself that I did what I had to do," she said softly. "I kept repeating it, over and over again, telling myself that there was no other way. No other way to protect my father. I told myself so often that I believed it. A dangerous thing for a spy - believing your own lies."

Lita stared out across the bar and tapped her ashes onto the floor. "The truth is, I could have done it any number of ways. I could have sent the ledger book to the conners, I could have taken my father with me and fled, I could have suggested we pin it all on some other poor sod instead." Lita brought her cigarette to her mouth again, fingers shaking slightly.

"I killed Forian because I wanted to," she whispered, voicing the truth she'd known in her heart for two years. "And I left my father there - just left him. And I'll never see him again. And no amount of guilt will change that." 

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Laurelai felt herself twitch as Lita continued her story, but she kept her eyes down, still staring into the bottom of the glass, though not really seeing it. Ordinarily she would have found the recounting incredibly useful, people were rarely so open with their motivations and thought process around something like killing, tales like this were useful for her research. But she couldn't help comparing Lita's experiences to her own.

Lita tried to convince herself that she'd done what needed to be done, Laurelai had spent years in self disgust telling herself that it hadn't needed to happen. Lita had tortured herself with a lie, Laurelai had tortured herself with the truth. Was it worse to face reality and confront your own failures? Or to twist your own memory until a falsehood became truth? For two so similar people in such similar circumstances they'd certainly approached it very differently, what had led to that?

"So you killed for your father and then lost him anyway?" Laurelai asked.

Her own voice sounded distant to her, detached. She was trying to determine motive and reasons, still falling back into her usual patterns. Was that where this evening would end? Would everything simply go back to normal after the world almost ended? The city had bounced back once after the seven days war, would it do so again? Could she?

"It... must have been hard." She felt her throat constrict, still trying to hold her own words back. But she couldn't keep everything hidden forever. All Forgeries eventually faded, history would always find a way to make itself known. "I lost my family, during the last war. Although I suppose it's different when you lose someone you can actually remember."

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita took another breath of smoke and listened to Laurelai speak. She still had yet to look up from her glass, the words coming harder now, like water forced through cloth. At the mention of Laurelai's family, Lita actually placed her tongue between her teeth, keeping herself from saying it. She almost did, anyway.

I know who your father is.

Something stopped her - a cool, green memory. Dappled shade, and men in colorful robes. A freshly starched collar. 'Better to let her keep her delusion...'

The Seven Days War was seventeen years ago, and her father was a god. Could he not have easily found her, should he have wished it? Yet Voidus had done nothing, hidden in his Alleys, doing... whatever it was he did. Even now, now that he was so close, he held himself apart from his daughter. Was it really Lita's business, her duty somehow to reveal this secret to Laurelai? She seemed well-adjusted enough, believing that her parents had died in the war. There was comfort in that kind of surety, the belief that no one was out there searching for her, because they could not. They were beyond that final door, and no point in agonizing over what could have been. How much worse would it be to know that someone was out there, they just had no desire to find you? No desire to know you, only shame and regret? To know that you were a mistake.

A shallow splintering sound split the silence that had fallen between them, and Lita was shocked to find a large crack riven through the glass in her hand. One scarlet bead of wine leaked out into her palm, traveling down her wrist in a languid trail. What..?

The hot, new fire of Pewter crackled beside her smolder of Tin - somehow she'd begun burning it unconsciously. Lita chided herself, extinguishing the new metal and setting the glass delicately onto the bar, nudging it away should it collapse and spill wine all over her. Well that's something new I'll need to look out for.

Lita tapped more ash onto the floor and looked toward Laurelai. "Of course it was hard. He was a good man... is a good man, I suppose. I hope." She watched the smoke hover in the air, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm sorry about your family. I... I don't remember my mother - not that I much want to. Too often, memory is poison."

[Voidus]

The shattering sound of glass finally drew Laurelai's attention as her eyes snapped up to the sound, seeing the broken glass in Lita's hands, the drops of wine that had spilled down  and onto the counter top. Lita herself didn't seem overly concerned with the break, moving the broken glass to one side and continuing to speak. Was she covering up something? Or was speaking of her family truly that painful for her?

An oddly empty feeling began welling up in Laurelai's chest, one she wasn't quite sure how to place. Should she feel this upset over the loss of her family? Over people she'd barely known? In the stream of refugees and orphans from the last war no one had even been able to identify Laurelai. She'd never discovered who her parents were, where they'd lived. For all she knew they could still be alive, though she doubted it.

She'd been old enough to say her name when she'd been rescued, but even that might not have been hers. She could have heard the name from anyone and simply repeated it enough that others thought it was hers. Why should she feel sad for people who she'd never known and who had left her with nothing?

But no matter how she tried to reason it away, the empty feeling remained. If Lita was right, if memory was poison, was she better off not remembering? Not remembering her parents, or her trip to Roshar, to the Nightwatcher. Would she be better off now if she didn't remember the smell of singed hair, the sound of sizzling flesh? If someone forgot all of their mistakes would they be the better for it?

"I prefer to think of it like medicine." She replied quietly. "A little can help you heal, too much or the wrong and you might make everything worse. But none at all and you'll probably die."

Was she being optimistic? It had been a long time since she'd found herself being the optimistic one in a room.

 She pulled a spike from one sleeve, instinctively placing it into a resting position for Alleycant before she stopped her hands and pulled it into a writing position. Then she pulled a wax candle from further along the bar, one that had miraculously managed to survive, and began slowly carving a circle into its base.

"Do you want to go back to him?" She asked as she carved. "Is that why you wanted power?"

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

"I - " Lita blinked, stumbling over her words. Go back. She ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling something hollow gnaw at her guts. That knife point she thought she had finally evaded, back to haunt her. Guilt.

Lita sucked at the end of her cigarette, then dropped it into the remains of her glass of wine. The embers drowned, whispering a dying sigh that echoed Lita's mood. She let the last breath of smoke curl out of her mouth before speaking.

"No." The word hung heavy in the air, true as steel. "There is no going back for me." Lita peered at Laurelai, who had taken a spike and was carving something into the bottom of a candle.

The pain and confusion in Laurelai's gaze burnt Lita like fire. Lita knew, she knew she should want to go back to Elendel, to fix it, to wipe it all away. If someone were to give her the chance to go back and undo it all, Lita knew she should take it.

But you wouldn't, the voice whispered. If you really cared about your father, you would never have gotten tangled up with Forian in the first place. Truth twisted her mouth, a bitter draught. That she would kill for her father, but not live for him. "Lita Attarre is dead," she said, saying her old name aloud for the first time in years. It sounded wrong, here amidst the ruins of the tavern, amidst the catastrophe and blood and chaos of this city. Too soft, too weak. This place had ruined her - Ruined her in truth. Remade her in blood and metal and rain.

'Know that you will never be what you once were.'

Her hand strayed toward her right side, hovering over her new spike. "I don't think my father would much like this version of his daughter."

The shadow of a smile touched her mouth - dark and strange. But I do.

[Voidus]

A corner of Laurelai's mouth twitched upwards as she carved. Lita was resolute it seemed, sure of the path she was on, or sure that she should not retrace her steps at the least. Laurelai herself often wavered, but in the end she had to admit that, like Lita, she'd never actually attempted to go back, despite how much easier that was for her than it was for most people.

"It's always possible to go back." She said, brushing some excess wax off the base of the candle as she finished carving into it. "Possible to change what's happened."

She blew the last of the loose wax off, before pressing the base of the candle against the glass that Lita had broken. She felt the wax sink slightly before it was met with resistance and she turned the seal, completing the Forgery. Within moments the glass was restored to its previous condition, without so much as a crack in it. And then that always familiar sensation of rushing power, a storm that had found a window to rush through as it burst forth from her.

The back of her hand began to itch intolerably, and as she raised it before her she saw a green leaf beginning to grow from the skin. It hurt a little as it exited, but the pain dissipated as the leaf left her hand and slowly drifted downwards.

"But there's still that pesky price." Laurelai said, a touch of sadness to her smile now. "So do we pay the price for forging ahead? Or the one for trying to retreat?"

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita slid her now-perfect glass back towards her and poured what was left of the wine out onto the floor, flicking the cigarette out with the end of her finger. She watched as a single small leaf pushed its way out of the back of Laurelai's hand before twirling down to land amidst the rest of the rubble on the ground.

You can't think I won't ask now, Lita thought, dipping her chin at Laurelai. It was as good as an invitation, showing such an obvious connection. Even a fool could connect the dots. She smirked a bit, looking over the glass in her hand - a flawless repair. Forgery with no need to carve a stamp, but always at a price. A Curse. 

"I suspect you're quite familiar with the price of Forging - ahead or otherwise," Lita said, meeting Laurelai's icy eyes and stoking the burn of her Tin, feeling her pupils dilate visibly. I know, the look said. Laurelai wouldn't miss it - she was far too clever.

"So you tell me," she continued. "Is the Curse worth the gift? Or can we abandon pretense now and use the official terminology? I believe it's Boon, yes?"

[Voidus]

Laurelai met Lita's gaze, staring back into their green depths silently before giving a soft sigh. She dragged one hand through her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. She had told Lita that she could rephrase the question, and it seemed childish to try to keep it hidden any longer given that Lita had clearly guessed the main points anyway.

"Boon is the common phrase used for those gifted by the Nightwatcher." She agreed reluctantly and pulling another of the bottles towards her and working on the cork. How many had it been now? "One Boon and a Bane. Sometimes related, often not. And not always what you ask for."

The cork pulled free with another popping sound, though it now seemed somehow ominous rather than cheerful.

"I've tried to find a way to quantify it, to measure or predict. But it seems that her Boons are not easily studied, even with the resources available at the DA. When I was younger I found it amusing, it's usually something small, something out of place but not exactly dangerous. Just a sudden rush of Investiture, flowing out in some random way. But sometimes a Forgery needs more Investiture to take, more power modifiers. And then the rush becomes stronger as well, strong enough to do... other things."

She refilled her glass, a little higher than before and raised it to her mouth, a slight tremor still noticeable in her hand.

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita nodded, not missing the slight shaking of Laurelai's hand as she began drinking her newest glass of wine. She made to reach for the bottle before something stopped her. How much are you planning on drinking, Lita?

She could feel herself getting drunk in truth now, Tin letting her catch the slow and subtle distinctions, each shade of grey between sober and soused. Lita knew it was foolish to be so cavalier at a time like this; the sounds of the city breaking and burning still filtered in here, through the hush and the smoke. She eyed the bottle, then sighed, sliding it over to her and pouring another half glass. Well, two-thirds.

"Something happened, then," Lita said, sipping. "Something nasty. That first red mark in your ledger, I'd be willing to bet."

She set the glass back on the bar and gave the Coin a flip, nearly fumbling it in her hand. Last glass, or you'll be painting the floor in your guts soon enough. "Forgive me, but something as unpredictable as a Boon and Bane from the Nightwatcher seems... uncharacteristic for you. I don't know you well, but you seem more like the 'minute detail' type. What made you take the risk?"

[Voidus]

Laurelai nodded grimly when Lita realized what she'd been implying, but said nothing else. An honest discussion was all well and good, but she'd still rather not revisit that particular memory any more than she needed to. Thankfully Lita seemed to be curious about something else instead, asking why Laurelai had opted to visit the Nightwatcher.

"That's the question isn't it?" Laurelai replied. "Why did I do what I did?"

Motivations were something that she'd always questioned. Motives could be used to make predictions as well as Forgeries, it was an invaluable skill to develop for someone with her abilities, and Laurelai had certainly not slacked in her efforts to develop that skill. So why then could she still not understand her own motivations?

"I don't remember." She replied honestly. "That's one of the reasons I joined, to try to find the answer to that question. I know my Bane already, so why can't I remember?"

She tipped her head back, taking another sip before realizing the motion had upset her balance. She quickly corrected, pulling herself back upright in the stool, but she'd definitely been drinking too much. Was her mind as compromised as her balance was? Was she giving away too much information?

She brought her gaze back to Lita's, her eyes swimming a little as they struggled to focus properly.

"Why do we remember things that we wish we didn't, yet forget the things that we wish to know?"

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita leaned a little more fully against the counter, putting her chin in her hand and slipping the Coin back into her sock lest she drop it in truth. She swirled her glass, some of the wine dripping over the rim now that her coordination was deteriorating, and took another sip. I can barely even taste this anymore, even with Tin. Never a good sign.

She turned her head to look at Laurelai, who seemed similarly woozy. Her eyes hovered around Lita's face but couldn't seem to find purchase on any one spot. Lita chuckled.

"I wish I didn't keep forgetting my own alcohol tolerance," she muttered, feeling herself slide further onto the counter. Lita righted herself a bit with a sigh. "You're asking the hard questions now, Ms. Laurelai, and I'm not the person with the answers. You'll probably want to ask one of them." Lita motioned vaguely to her right, towards the hole in the wall and the city beyond, out where the DA leaders were battling Plasmacore's horrors. 

"Though maybe even they don't know. I almost hope they don't." Lita looked at the world through the wine in her glass, claret-red and bitter sweet. "Once you know every secret there is to know... what comes next?"

[Voidus]

Laurelai stared at the small remnant of dark red liquid in her glass, her balance and vision were already off, it was probably best to hold off from any more for the moment.

"Next come a bit of a break from the wine I think." She replied, leaning back on the stool to stretch a little. "Moderation is important for alcohol and secrets it seems."

Her gaze drifted along the broken ceiling, following one smoke-stained plank of wood before unfocussing and then getting caught on a particularly oddly shaped piece of broken stone that had somehow gotten lodged inside the roof. How did something like that get stuck without bringing the whole roof in? What had happened here?

They knew generally that the fighting had likely made its way through the building, but who had fought? What had they done? Whose side were they on and why?

She shook her head, realizing that she was getting lost in her musings about the past once again. The alcohol was definitely not helping her already easily distracted mind to focus. A glance at Lita showed that she seemed to be having almost as much trouble keeping focused. At least if she was making a fool of herself she had company.

Suddenly a voice boomed through the tavern, causing her to immediately straighten and look for the source, but her body and mind were both moving sluggishly, too sluggishly to be useful right now it seemed.

"It's time to die" The voice boomed, reverberating through the room and rattling the nearby bottles.

And then there was silence, the voice said nothing other than its ominous warning and nothing else made any noise in its wake. Laurelai looked over towards Lita, her face still pulled into an alert and serious expression. But as she met the other woman's gaze she raised one eyebrow curiously, held silent for a moment longer, and then burst out in a fit of giggles.

The voice, its words, seemed so serious, so urgent. But here they sat, two bottles deep in fine liquor, it seemed unlikely that either of them could even walk a straight line, let alone fight for the sake of the world. So it was highly likely that they were both about to be destroyed as they sat here in this ruined bar, drunk on their pilfered wine.
@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

"It's time to die."

The voice struck Lita's sensitive ears like a walloping blow, and she immediately cringed, her intoxication causing her to swivel awkwardly on the barstool. She immediately lowered her tin, looking out toward the tavern's far wall, then at Laurelai. The two stared at one another for a long moment, as though mutually debating on whether or not to be afraid.

Then, Laurelai raised one blonde brow and descended into a cascade of giggles. Lita was silent for another second, then felt her own laughter well up and spill out of her mouth. They sat there, two young women drunk beyond all point of usefulness, in the ruins of a forgotten tavern. She laughed, even as the motion sent nasty little stabs of pain radiating out from her new spike. She laughed because she herself had thought those words countless times in the last week, and they had not come to pass.

But most of all, she laughed because it felt rusting wonderful to laugh again.

Lita leaned comically against the bar and wiped a small mirthful tear from one eye before fixing her eyes on the approximation of Laurelai's face. Intoxication while burning Tin was odd - she tended to feel even more drunk, while retaining more of an edge in sense and perception. Her vision should be far more blurred, but it was blurry enough as it was.

"I was wondering what time it was," Lita said, giggling again for a moment before hiccuping into the back of her hand. She glanced towards the wall again, then looked at the staircase leading up to the tavern's second floor. A wild, fleeting idea took hold of her.

"Say," she said, pointing towards the steps. "I've a feeling there's about to be quite a show out there. Wanna go watch?" Lita grinned and drew her Alleycant pen out of one pocket with a flourish that almost sent her tipping off the stool. "We can take notes."

@Voidus

[Voidus]

A few more small chuckles escaped Laurelai as she slowly calmed herself back down, wiping a bead of moisture that had gathered at the corner of one eye. She still felt an almost compulsive desire to break out in laughter again, but she managed to suppress it long enough to hear Lita suggest they head upstairs and try to watch whatever was about to happen.

"Notes?" Laurelai asked, still smiling. "Excellent idea. We need to leave something for historians after all. Although now I'm wondering how many of the primary sources I've read in my life have been written by people too intoxicated to be accurate. It would explain a lot about a recount I read of one of the Desolations once, I've always been quite sure that the Voidbringers didn't destroy an entire village by dancing too vigorously."

She placed both hands on the bar to steady herself, carefully stepping off the stool and making sure her legs could support her weight. She somehow felt as if she was already moving, somehow hurtling towards the staircase, but then realized she hadn't taken a step yet and let out another small giggle.

"Let us commence the writing of Laurelai and Lita's notes on the end of the world. The time is approximately one minute past 'time to die', and our brave authors are making their way past a slew of mortal perils to reach the safety of a rooftop."

She gently nudged one of said mortal perils, a broken chair leg, to one side so that she didn't trip on it before beginning to make her way towards the stairs.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita felt her grin widen further, and she slid off the stool to land on wobbly feet. She clutched her pen in one hand and swept her coat into the crook of her arm; intoxication had always made her more careful of her belongings, likely due to her heightened paranoia of losing them. Laurelai had already begun navigating the small minefield of table legs, table planks, and broken glass that littered the path to the stairs.

Lita followed in Laurelai's wake, giggling softly. "There is no one better suited to archive this momentous occasion," she whispered, before remembering that Laurelai wasn't burning Tin. She repeated herself, likely too loudly this time, which renewed her giggling. As they neared the stairs, Lita pointed with feigned gravitas.

"Behold!" She said, spinning slightly as a shard of glass slid out from beneath one of her boots. "The Stairwell of Ascension! Only we are fit for this task. Only we can take this power."

She placed one foot on the bottom stair and stuffed her pen back into her pocket before gripping the bannister. Her other hand she held back toward Laurelai, palm up. Miraculously, she kept herself from giggling again. Well, almost. "Join me. Together, we make history. Drunk history."

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Slowly, carefully, Laurelai had made her way across the rubble-strewn floor of the tavern to the stairway that Lita had gestured to. She wasn't sure which of the tremors she was feeling were due to distant battles and which were due to her own impaired sense of balance, but neither of them made her job particularly easy. Finally she reached the base of the stairs, staring up them as Lita joined her with a grandiose speech of her own.

"I've read about the amount of wine that the Alethi drank during war, and how much the Scadrian Nobles drank during their plotting." Laurelai replied with a grin. "I'm not sure there is any other kind of history than drunk history."

Stifling another giggle she slowly raised one of her own hands to grasp Lita's before cautiously dipping into a small curtsy of the sort she usually gave to a dancing partner, though those had certainly been few and far between.

"Now let us do battle with the fabled Stairwell, if we are fortunate we shall both live to see the other side!"

Bumping into Lita several times as they ascended the first few steps, she let out a large breath. With it she released the remains of the tension she'd been carrying. It seemed an odd time to be so relaxed, but something about the atmosphere, the alcohol, and the company had just made it easier to take this less seriously. Voidus hadn't ended up killing her, and neither had any of the other creatures roaming the streets. They'd managed to arrive at the tavern safely, and have a number of drinks in peace.

One of her feet caught on the lip of a step, the rest of her leg quickly followed after it in collapsing against the hard wood and she slipped sideways into the banister. She felt her arm move in slow motion to catch onto it, slapping against the top of the railing and scrabbling for a moment before she caught a grip. Her eyes widened in surprise, sparkling in the dim lighting as she held her body aloft on one foot. Her wide eyed glance eventually settled on Lita, pressed a little awkwardly up against her and still holding her other hand.

"The Stairwell of Ascension is a dangerous foe indeed." She said with an utterly serious expression.

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

Lita felt Laurelai falling even before her leg hit the stair, though her Tin did her little good when it came to giving Laurelai any aid. Much to Lita's relief, Laurelai caught herself, though she gave Lita quite the tug in the meantime. Lita grabbed onto her own section of the banister, trying to pull Laurelai back on balance. They were about halfway up the staircase now, and Lita wasn't quite drunk enough to forget how nasty a fall down the steps would be.

"The Stairwell of Ascension is a dangerous foe indeed," Laurelai said solemnly, her blue eyes wide and glassy in the low light. Lita stared back at her for a moment before feeling herself start to giggle again. She helped Laurelai right herself, then continued upwards, leading the way as she was likely the only one of the two who could see much of anything in the shadowed confines of the stairwell. 

"Many have attempted this climb," Lita said softly, blinking as the walls around her seemed to bend slightly. "But few have reached the summit. Who knows what we shall find."

Lita tried burning a bit of Pewter, and found that her balance - while still shaky - improved enough to rend her capable of leading them both through the dark. When they finally stumbled onto the second-floor landing, Lita pushed open the first door she could find in search of a window with a view out towards the ongoing battle.

"And now for our second task," she called back out into the upper hallway, lurching out through the door again and almost ripping the handle off the next door with a Pewter-enhanced yank. "Rusts, that's going to take some getting used to," she muttered, mood brightening as she saw the view through the window. "Aha! I have found our quarry. Pens at the ready!"

She moved through the room with an unnerving quickness, stopping before the window and carefully undoing the latch. The hinges protested with a wretched creak, but Lita managed to force it open enough for the two of them to stand side by side and watch the battle unfold. She took out her pen and looked back towards the hall, waiting, the rush of alcohol and adrenaline and her light whisper of Pewter burning away any trepidation.

[Sunbringer he/him]

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I'm assuming this ^ all happened a long time ago since in real life it was a while

Jacien wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting to find. It had been quite a while since he'd been here after all, but for some reason he had just assumed the tavern where he had spent so much of his time would still be here. A cultivationspren grew in through the door and up onto the ceiling, looking down over the ruined building. Jacien slowly walked through the remains of the tavern, stopping at the bar counter, reading the message carved into its surface. 

"Things certainly have changed," he remarked to Auri. 

She grew back down the wall and grew up his leg onto his body. As usual, he couldn't really feel her. 

"Where should we go then?" she asked. 

"I'm not sure." Jacien admitted. "We haven't contacted anyone since we returned to Roshar, and I don't even know if the people we once knew are still here, or if would want to see us. Malu might not be too excited to see us, since we were supposed to try and keep things like this from happening." 

They stood in silence for a moment.

"Well, I guess for now we should just go look for someplace to stay."

The two took one last moment to look around the place that had almost been like a home to them during their previous stay in the Alleyverse, then Jacien turned and walked out. 

This was an unfortunate discovery, and He couldn't help but think of it as a bad omen.

 

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

11 minutes ago, Sunbringer said:

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I'm assuming this ^ all happened a long time ago since in real life it was a while

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Yeah ~6 months have passed since that exchange happened, in-world.

 

[+Invocation]

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Malu's also been through the wringer since then, so I don't think he minds too much, if he even remembers that deal.

@Sunbringer

[He who goes DORIYAH!! he/him]

Jarae enters the tavern. He's never been there before, but he hears that this this is the place to go for a man of... his talents. He sits down and orders a drink, waiting for someone, anyone, really.

[+ZincAboutIt she/her]

8 minutes ago, Vasher212 said:

Jarae enters the tavern. He's never been there before, but he hears that this this is the place to go for a man of... his talents. He sits down and orders a drink, waiting for someone, anyone, really.

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Hey there, the OJT is actually closed and is a total ruin inside, missing portions of wall, ceiling, and probably all of the alcohol by now. If you're looking for a tavern that is currently open, The Bleeding Spike can set you right.

 

[+Ark1002]

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*coughs*

and this may or may not have all been my fault