Alleycity Thread

[Voidus]

"Thirteen more grams of that." Professor Esserethel said, making careful notation of the required measurement and speaking to his assistant off to one side. "And then it will need to be mixed thoroughly and incubated correctly."

That was important, 90% of scientific work was about precision and careful methodology. Though of course the other 10% of spontaneous inspiration often completely ruined both precision and any amount of care that the Professor half-heartedly implemented. But today was not some mad flash of genius that prompted him to drink a metallic alloy with toxic components or test an Aon with unknown modifiers without protective gear. Today was a simple experiment.

"Bennington?" The Professor repeated. "Did you hear? Thirteen more grams of flour before we mix it up and put it in the oven. I miscalculated earlier and if we don't add it now then the whole cake will be ruined."

He wasn't sure what precisely had inspired him to make a cake, only that it seemed to be a convenient distraction. He had a recipe book to follow, that meant he didn't need to think, didn't need to remember. He could just allow himself to work monotonously and follow instructions.

"Then next up.." he said, finger tracing a line of the book as he read ahead. "Frosting."

The word sent a small shiver along his back, some unknown sense of excitement. A flash of fond memories, of all the times he'd sat down to have afternoon tea in the hospital. Vivica had always complained that they got the frosting wrong, maybe he could make something that she'd like. Bennington would probably know.

"Seventy five grams of cooking chocolate, butter, icing sugar..." As he read the ingredients Lucien frowned. Following the recipe had been nice, simple. A distraction from thoughts.

But now those thoughts were intruding again. Telling him on an instinctual level that this was wrong. That this was not how one should make icing.

"You're neither a chef nor a baker." He reminded himself. His brow creased in a frown and he forced his hands to pick out the listed ingredients. "Bennington you can taste it after I make the first batch. Or actually I guess I will. How does that work exactly, do hallucinations know what I taste?"

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Bennington spun through the room as the Professor baked his cake. He was beginning to change his opinion of the man; the copper spike had much improved him. He was actually rather decent company now. Bennington drew on the thread, tasting another sip of madness. It was growing more concentrated, sweeter. Good. Soon he would begin to remember. But for now, it was nice to bake again.

“Bennington you can taste it after I make the first batch. Or actually I guess I will. How does that work exactly, do hallucinations know what I taste?"

Bennington swam a loop around the Professor, pausing over his shoulder to observe the ingredients. Vivica would have altered the recipe - this was not her preferred method for making frosting. But then, Vivica did not actually make frosting, such as it was. If the Professor was actually interested in frosting a cake, this was precisely how to go about it. If what he really wanted was to eviscerate a wanderer against the lonely brick of an Alleyway, then he was definitely off the mark. But how to telegraph that message?

Bennington drifted over to the still-open cupboard and hovered over a small bottle of food coloring. Printed on the label we’re three letters that had formed the bedrock of Vivica’s gospel.

Red.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

"Hmm?" Professor Esserethel asked as he saw Benningtons drifting movement. "What have you found there?"

Wiping his hands off on his coat, then frowning at the stains that caused, the Professor walked to the cupboard and pulled a bottle that Bennington seemed interested in. A bottle of food colouring? The recipe didn't mention any colouring agents, would it still be fine to use? He supposed that the whole point of these kinds of additives was to not change the taste or chemical process of the food so it should be fine. And as he looked at the bottle the deep colouration did seem appealing.

Red.

The simple label drew his attention for some reason. The word printed on the side seemed somehow larger than the entire bottle was, bloated with importance and meaning. He smiled as he read the word over and over before opening the bottle and pouring a little of the liquid on his finger. He watched as a deep red droplet balanced precariously on a fingertip before slowly draining into the recesses and whorls of his fingerprint. In moments he was left with only stained skin, and an empty feeling. This red was nice, but perhaps a little bit off? He wanted a deeper shade. When it was in the bottle it seemed nice but as it spread the colour had thinned out into something far too pale.

"Do we have any others?" He asked, half to himself and half to Bennington who was looping enhusiastically around the bottle still. "Something a little darker maybe?"

After pulling every bottle he could find from the cupboard, Lucien determined that his foresight for food colouring purchases had been limited to one each of Red, Blue and Yellow. Perhaps assuming that with primary colours he could blend something else if needed. But there was no way to get the shade he wanted with those. He tried adding it to some melted chocolate and that was closer. He felt a thrill of excitement as he watched them combine in the saucepan, a thick consistency and slow dripping red colouration that seemed absolutely perfect but then as it cooled it just looked... wrong. Again.

"Maybe we should go shopping." He said, looking over to Bennington. "We're almost out of coffee too so I'd need to pick some things up soon anyway."

Maybe the walk would help keep his mind clear. Following the recipe had helped but as he'd gotten lost in his search for the perfect red he'd moved back towards experimentation, his mind flowing freely as he searched for that elusive colour that would make everything better. But thinking too freely would be dangerous, if his thoughts were flowing freely instead of guided then they could drift anywhere, they could drift back to a quiet corner of the hospital where a young, bright woman shone with radiant joy at every conversation.

Stop that! He chided, nearly yelling in his mind to cut himself off.

He pulled his attention back to Bennington and tried to change topic, anything to guide his thoughts elsewhere. What had he just been talking about? Going shopping and needing something else? Coffee!

"But don't get your hopes up." He scolded, waggling a finger at Bennington even as he smiled. "I know you don't do well with coffee. You're always getting into trouble aren't you?"

The words echoed as they left his mouth, he could half hear them spoken as if by someone else. Someone very familiar but also somehow distant. Had she ever said those words to him before? There was a brief flash of the two of them in a small kitchen, talking over a coffee machine and Vivica waggling a finger into the air as she scolded Bennington with a gentle but teasing expression. But no, that was ridiculous. Vivica hadn't been allowed near a kitchen, most of the time she hadn't even been allowed hot coffee out of fear that she'd use it to burn someone.

"Hallucinations and now false memories." Nox said with a chuckle. "I must be going quite mad indeed."

Still chuckling to himself he picked up his keys and headed to the door, holding it open long enough for his violet friend to float out before they both hit the city streets.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

The Professor was going quite mad; Bennington was rather pleased with himself. At least as much as one such as he could feel pleasure. He was pretty sure it was different than how mortal, corporeal beings felt the sensation, but he had never been able to ask properly. Speaking directly into the mind of a human tended to immediately render them insensate. The mind just…liquified. Delicious, yes. But not particularly illuminating.

Bennington took another pull from the bonding thread, cautioning himself to remain patient. He did not have the same attachment to the Professor as he had had to Vivica; she was a meal to be savored over the course of a lifetime. But this man was mortal veneer over a vast well of deific Void. Bennington could drink forever and never run to the bottom. He could pull and pull and pull on the tether until the violet light ran through it like lightning over wire, glutting himself on madness until the light spun out of every star and even the gaping maws of black holes had collapsed into Nothing. 

But that was a careless mistake, and Bennington was not careless. He had waited for an eternity in the Endless Determinance. He could wait a matter of weeks to avoid cracking the veneer before it was time. But perhaps just one more sip…

The Professor had been walking down a busy main street, his pace relaxed, but his eyes were flicking across the passerby with a slightly predatory air. Bennington knew that look - Vivica had worn it when she went “shopping” as well. The Professor was beginning to feel it now, that crimson lure, the itch to know warmth between his fingers, slick and coppery. Bennington decided to help him, and darted down a smaller street, where people who were not likely to be missed gathered in pairs or, even more convenient, huddled alone against stone walls and under eaves.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Humming gently to himself as he walked, Professor Esserethel had stopped to read the headlines at a paper kiosk when he noticed Bennington streak into a nearby side street, leaving a momentary flash of purple in his passing. The Professor gave the vendor an apology and a slightly too-wide smile before following after his many-limbed friend into one of the darker corners of the city.

Curious as to what had drawn Bennington here, Lucien followed after and found him slowly circling over a young man slumped against the cracked bricks of a boarded up old shopfront. A quick glance over both shop and the raggedly-clothed individual revealed no clues to explain Bennington's behaviour. Perhaps he was simply bored? Or hungry? Or perhaps he'd noticed the telltale hollow cheeks, vacant expression and trembling limbs of a Streetspice addict and gotten curious.

"Come on." The Professor said. "I'll tell you about it on the way."

He turned to go but something about the addict kept his attention, the Professor found his gaze lingering on the fragile young man as he tried to determine what exactly it was that was drawing him so. Perhaps some sign of undiagnosed illness? An addict would quite possibly have a number of those. Maybe he should take the young man back to the university to see? A simple medical examination was not beneath his capabilities even if medicine was not one of the fields he held an official doctorate in. He could find the problem, quite possibly some early stage liver failure and then it would be a simple enough process to find some anaesthetics and antiseptics. Failing all else he could cut into his abdominal cavity and perform some exploratory surgery to find the problem.

Benningtons circles slowed as the Professor thought the problem over, finally bobbing in what could only be satisfaction before slipping his way towards a nearby alleyway. In a flash the Professor realised that the alley could offer an even faster solution. He could simply help the lad into one of those strange alleyways he'd stumbled into a week prior and with the solitude that was then assured he would be able to test a few hypotheses.

He was stepping forwards, hand already stretching to offer assistance when his eyes locked onto the darkness in that alley. He saw more than a simple lack of light there, he saw the space between spaces that the alleys occupied. He saw a dark cavern filled with gentle water and the promise of relief from all worries. He saw a pair of merciless eyes staring through his being in expectation, filled with horrible secrets that would extinguish his sanity like the tiny flickering candle that it was.

The Professor's humming stopped immediately. His hand, half extended towards the young man, began to shake. At first just a twitch of the fingertips but quickly he pulled it back to his chest as it felt that every muscle fiber twitched in primal reaction to that darkness and its promises. Through that hand he felt his heart thundering inside his ribs, pushing crimson fear through his body. His breathing accelerated as he twisted on the spot and hastily stepped back to the safety of the main street.

"Shop's this way Bennington." He muttered weakly, his wide eyes fixed on the ground in front of him lest he accidentally spot another portal into that dark nightmare.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Bennington watched as the Professor began to eye the young man slumped against the brick. He gave a gentle tug on the thread that bound them, tasting the Professor’s mind, his thoughts. The cracks were not yet wide enough for Bennington to see directly into his mind - that would come later. But for now, the thread was enough.

Good. Nox’s musings were taking him down very familiar avenues. He looped encouragingly, finally settling as the man’s thoughts circled tighter and tighter around that one scarlet singularity.

But wait - what was that? A flash of blue, bright and cool, rippled over the Professor’s face like light across water. He froze, hand outstretched, and Bennington could taste the dread. The terror. The desire.

Something her happened, something that Vivica had not predicted. Something that even Bennington did not yet understand. It troubled him. 

Nox turned abruptly and strode back out into the street, off to the shop. Bennington followed, watching his host, thinking. What could draw a man such as him with such depth? Such force? What could possibly match the thread that bound them?

Bennington thought on these matters as they continued down the street, towards the market, in the search for the perfect red. He would not find it there.

But he would find it soon.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Lucien frowned before placing the bottle back on the shelf. It was a nice, deep red. But still slightly off. And he knew that once it was taken from a bottle and spread through a mixture it would lighten. He wanted something darker.

"They must have it here somewhere." He muttered to Bennington as the two perused the shop. "Or maybe we could mix it together somehow? That red with something darker, and maybe a gelatin for consistency?"

Perhaps having forgotten that gelatin would not precisely mix well with a traditional icing recipe, he began scanning the shelves anew and stopped at a section of kitchen equipment. He hadn't intended to restock up on anything but did he have everything he needed? A quick mental recall of the recipe and his kitchen revealed that he did, but perhaps he should get some extras just in case.

"What do you think of this?" He said as he pulled a butcher's cleaver from the rack and tested the heft in his hand. "No, no that's not right at all."

He kept scanning until he managed to find a large and well sharpened chef's knife that felt about right to him. Professor Esserethel was far from an expert in cooking so he wasn't entirely sure what he should be looking for but perhaps he should trust his instincts on this? The weight felt nice and the blade was much more suited for careful cutting than that cleaver had been. It looked sharp but perhaps he should...

He hissed at the line of pain across his palm and sucked in a breath, fist almost reflexively closing around the wound. Well it was certainly sharp, though perhaps he shouldn't go around testing such things when he was out of sorts like this. He grimaced at the pain but as he clenched his fist and caused it to flare up again he felt it... relax him slightly. A reminder of what had happened, at least this way he could control the pain he was feeling.

He had just begun to move to the line to pay for his goods when he noticed the woman at the back of the line staring at him, wide-eyed. She seemed to glance at both his hands for a moment and then to his face and as he continued to approach she simply left her bag at the counter and sped past the cashier. The cashier for her part just watched her with a confused expression and then gave an irritated little sigh in the direction of the bag.

"I can put that back for you." Lucien said gesturing to the bag with the knife. "You look busy."

The cashier seemed to pale at the thought, she must take customer service incredibly seriously if she's not willing to let one help. And immediately shook her head. Voidus shrugged and only then realized that he'd been pointing with the blood-stained knife in the direction of the cashier. It felt like it took him longer than normal to realise that he shouldn't do that, and he still couldn't quite recall why except that it was a form of poor manner.

"Oh." He said, placing the knife in the basket at that. "Sorry I was just..."

His eyes caught on the crimson coating of the blade. He hadn't quite paid attention when it first happened, not to the blade and not to the sight of his palm either. He'd only noticed the feeling, the momentary burning pain and the relief it brought. But the colour was quite spectacular, both on the blade and as he looked, on his hand too. He was staring transfixed at it as those in front of him were served until he finally reached the cashier.

"Hello." He said, trying to smile to put the woman at ease. "I was wondering if you have a dye that matches this colour?"

The store, it turned out, did not have anything that matched and eventually Lucien had left simply to put the cashier at ease as the poor thing had seemed to grow more and more nervous the longer she'd talked. Perhaps a panic attack prompted by something? Or was she Androphobic?

"She seemed a bit odd didn't she Bennington?" Lucien mused as he strode back in the direction of home. "Shame she couldn't help with the colour, but I think with this we have enough bases covered that we can mix something together."

He shook the bag of dyes, gelatin and other ingredients, and listened as the blood stained knife clinked happily against the glass bottles.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Crimson bloomed from the Professor’s hand, and Bennington tugged hard on the tether, allowing himself his first proper drink in… well, technically forever. The taste was strong and dark, fascination layered atop hunger, curiosity over desperation, excitement over mania, distraction over rage. Rage layered over an endless well of sorrow. 

Bennington drank deeply, and the few hairline cracks in the Professor’s sanity split wider and ground further in, further and further until he finally stopped. The thread that bound them was thicker now, it’s width strained and stuffed with violet light. Bennington turned a lazy, sated loop, and whatever realm it was that held the truth of his form shook and trembled at his satisfaction. 

Nox paid for his items, including, Bennington was pleased to note, the long sharp knife. Vivica would have approved, she would have clapped her cool, slender little hands and danced in place, wide blue eyes alight with fevered excitement. She would not have bought the dye. But, that was to be remedied at a later time.

Let the Professor play at mixing paints, taking notes with all the careful precision of a scientist. All the while remembering that perfect color on his skin, on the steel edge of the knife. The perfect consistency as it curved over the edge of his palm. It was impossible to fully recreate. Vivica had tried many times. Science had truly improved so much in the world.

But there was just no improving on the rich crimson perfection of blood.

Bennington followed the Professor home, listening as he hummed tunelessly. After this world unraveled, and he had cast that arrogant one eyed godling into the vastness of the Endless Determinance, Vivica would come back. She had to come back. But until then, Bennington took another long drink.

Waste not, want not.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Covered in rivulets of azure water drifting over her tiny frame, Whisper waited. She had seen the Lonely God off some days prior. Or was it months? Years? Time was difficult to track here, not only due to the lack of a sun, moon or timepiece but the Chapel itself seemed to distort her perspective, lengthening it out.

'But he will return soon.' Whisper mused silently. 'The call will pull him back and he will remember the words, bringing more Light along with him.'

That was crucial. She couldn't leave the Chapel herself, or rather she could but it would render this entire trip pointless. Without the knowledge from the waters she could not plan half as well as she needed to. Wouldn't be able to understand her gods any more.

She peered into the past, viewing them again and almost lost herself into idle admiration before focussing, drawing her thoughts and concentration to bear on a single topic. The daughter of the Lonely God. Whisper had been very confused to discover that, wondering if perhaps the blonde young woman deserved a place in her pantheon by virtue of heritage alone. But no, not yet at least. Laurelai might have the potential but currently her existence was a relatively mundane one. If Whisper wanted to change that then she would first need, as always, to understand the pieces that she played. She would need to do as the Forgotten Daughter herself did and see the history.

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Laurelai sat on the floor, fiddling with a wooden horse and showing it to her friend. Amicus had the same blonde hair as her, though with dark black eyes in contrast to her own blues. He was a good friend, if a little rough at times but she hated it when he tried to steal her toys.

"Mine." Amicus said, pudgy hands tugging at the horse and pulling it out of her grip.

"No it's not!" Laurelai insisted, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. "It's mine!"

A woman bent down to scoop Amicus up, her hair blonde like both of theirs and sharing a name with Laurelai.

"Amicus if you can't play nicely then you can't play at all." Aunt Laurelai chided, holding Amicus on a hip and gently prying the toy free from his grasp before handing it back to Laurelai.

Laurelai always liked her aunt, she was kind and helped when Amicus snatched things. And she came to play together a lot, even if she was usually too tired to play for long. Laurelai began losing herself in her game again but shortly grew hungry and had just asked about dinner when she heard something at the front door and looked up to see her Aunt greeting some strange man. Everyone was behaving very oddly but her Mother and Father weren't stopping anything or saying anything. It was probably fine. Or so she had thought, right up until Amicus and her Aunt vanished at the mans touch.

Laurelai tilted her head curiously, wondering how the trick was done. But quickly her vision was obscured as her mother hugged her close to her chest, blonde ringlets surrounding Laurelai's face.

"Mum." Laurelai called. "Can't see."

Darkness filled the room and a cold deeper and more isolating than anything she had ever felt reached out to grasp her. She heard something. Voices? They were talking but it was too faint, she was too alone and too scared to understand what they were saying. Then the darkness deepened until it was all she could see, the cold seeped into her bones and flesh, and her mothers touch faded from her grip as endless nothingness overtook everything.

Laurelai blinked as light was suddenly restored. Then stumbled and fell before covering her ears as the world went from dead silence to deafening explosions, screams and snarls. The endless nothing was replaced by harsh stone beneath her bare feet and smoke that quickly filled her lungs as she struggled to draw a breath in.

"Mum!" Laurelai called out, trying to stand and reach for where her mother had just been holding her. "Dad?"

The smoke burned her lungs and her eyes quickly filled with tears, she could barely see anything but dimly she could make out a shape. A person? Lying down nearby. She crawled over towards them, stopping only once to cough into the ground and wipe at her eyes, though not succeeding in clearing them. When at last she reached the person they were wearing something hard and strange, not metal but stiff, almost wooden.

"Mum?" She asked again reaching a hand out to gently shake the person awake. Her fingers scratched ineffectively against leather armour. "Mum is that you? You're all wet and sticky."

Quote

The events of this post reference both some of Voidus' backstory and the Seven Day War. Links provided for those curious but not familiar.

 

 

[+ZincAboutIt]

This was not how Vivica had imagined death.

For one, it had lasted much longer than she had expected. Not the dying part, exactly - that had been quite quick. A precise cut along the throat, angled perfectly. Vivica was nothing if not accurate in that regard. 

But afterwards. That bit was definitely taking quite a while. It had been nearly a week now, if she was counting her days properly. And that was hard to do here, because there was no sun. And there were no days. So perhaps it had not been as long - or perhaps it had been much longer. Vivica was not overly worried. She imagined that she might have forever to complete her task. And that was comforting, because she did not quite recall what it was she was meant to be doing.

There was something missing from her thoughts, something incomplete - she could see it in the way her form shifted and wavered. When she looked down at her hands, the edges blurred and frayed, as though she were slowly dissolving. It was all rather fascinating, actually, and she would have observed it with great interest if it weren’t for the slight niggle at the back of her mind, driving her. There was something she needed to do, someone she needed to find. They were very important; she remembered that much. Incredibly important. The most important person in the universe.

It was very dark here, in the Cognitive Realm. At least, she assumed that’s where she was. It made sense. Today, she walked around the south edge of the city, which loomed like a collection of jagged teeth thrust up from the ground. She walked next to one of the Light Lines - that’s what she called them. They probably had another name. If she had the entirety of her spirit, she suspected that she would know the name. But she did not, and so she made do. 

The Light Lines were crevasses carved all across the ground, gouged with a precision both impressive and intimidating. The swirled and zig-zagged, running both parallel and perpendicular to one another, some wide as an avenue and others slender as a hair. All ran deep into the earth, and they stretched out from the center of the city in all directions.

Most of the time they were dark, like everything else here. But occasionally, lightning would crack and flicker through them, far within the bowels of the land, always moving in the same direction - into the city. Towards the Worldspike.

Vivica walked along one such Light Line, listening for the tell-tale crack of lightning that would herald another flicker in the dark. As she entered into the city, she passed the translucent shadow of a man, filled with a swirling collection of white light that glowed like hot wire. He was alive, walking the city right now. Vivica was not. She peered at him, checking his face.

No, she shook her head. He was not who she was looking for. 

She was sure that she would know upon seeing them, know that she had found the one she needed. The one who would fix this - fix the world. Fix her. If only she could remember them properly. If only there wasn’t so much missing...

Vivica continued walking, checking each living face that she passed, following the crackling light deeper into the city. A passing wind tore out a section of her forearm; she looked at the resulting hole with interest. She was comforted by the fact that she likely had forever to complete her task.

Or at least until the last piece of her dissolved away.

[Chaoslink]

It rained, and Amethyst stood in the rain. Why he stood there? That was a good question. He actually didn’t know. He remembered, that around two hours ago he knew why he went to this place, but now he just didn’t know anymore. He still stood in the rain, and his only piece of mind, that was not completely destroyed in the… Stop, he said to himself. Don’t remember. Leave the thinking for MIND. This piece of mind, that actually knew why he was standing in the rain, woke up. It stretched its limbs, and went to the toilet. It got some cookies and a coffee, and then, only then, Amethyst knew why he stood in the rain. He was waiting for a certain person to walk by. A person that was not noteworthy in any way. A normal citizen, doing his daily work. And because of that, he was Amethysts next target. Amethyst had been an Knight Radiant once. He had even spoken the Second Ideal of his Order, but… Don’t remember. Do what MIND says you need to do, and then stop thinking. I will remember those that have been forgotten. And I will do so by killing them. And so, on a rainy day, Amethyst waited in the Alleycity for a certain person to come by. To kill him.

Now, while he waited, he could also think, no? What was it. Why is it this exact person that I’m going to kill? IT IS NOT IMPORTANT. But… am I not an Edgedancer? Am I not supposed to help people? IT IS NOT IMPORTANT. Why. Why this suffering. Why a broken mind, no remembrance, and a mission that I don’t know, but need to fulfill. Why me? If there is a god in this world of forgetting, ANSWER ME!!!

I WILL TELL YOU. THE PHILOSOPHY OF NOTHINGNESS. DO YOU REMEMBER? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS CRUEL WORLD HAS DONE? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN? DO YOU WANTTO KNOW?

 

Amethyst waited. It was eight o’clock. 

At 8:30, a person crossed the street. He looked normal. Black hair, brown eyes. Works as an merchant. Amethyst knew what he would do. He positioned himself so that he would perfectly slide into a big box, filled with fruits, on the other side of the street. He took his blade into an backhand grip, and then it was just muscle memory. Activate the Surge of Abrasion, slide into the person, make the death strike that plunges right into the heart, and then… go blind. Yes, that was always not a really comfortable thing. Anyway, slide blindly into the fruit box with a perfectly placed jump at the end, grow for the box a wooden lid with the Surge of Progression, and the wait until you can see something again. Amethyst executed this process, and after that the only thing left was darkness.

Edited September 16, 2022 by Chaoslink

[kenod]

Deep beneath the city shadows slowly started stirring, as something ancient took notice of a strange anomaly. For a time that might be seconds or perhaps days she meditated on the strange things she felt, tracing connections of investure, mapping pathways through dimensions, reality and non-reality, until finally a strange feeling of unrest seemed to pass through the world, touching and infecting the minds of those in it with gossamer threads. At the same time the shadows seemed to retreat from the minds of those who had been experiencing visions of another life, finally granting them rest, before the faint feeling of unrest started pushing at them, unnoticeable, to investigate these visions, encouraging strange nightmares and dreams of a world of gods and guilds.

At the same time shadows coalesced in a different, hidden part of the world, eventually retreating to reveal a small fox, while the main mind of the shadows sealed away their own memories of the hidden creature, trusting that what they had set in motion would continue.

And finally, in a different place, one unbound by dimensions, on a plane of investure, power and intellect, hidden from even the view of all-seeing gods, Aylitha started to work on her own part in this, to sever herself from the world and reclaim her power from the friend she had trusted, and was looking to usurp her.

[+ZincAboutIt]

Vivica followed the Light Line far into the city, criss-crossing over other Lines, wending her way through streets that she'd never seen when she was alive. At least, not in this life. She passed many people, always checking each. They were never who she was looking for. Still, it was nice to have company. She hummed softly as she walked, her voice carried off by the wind that always seemed to pull at her, no matter which direction she faced. The hole in her forearm had continued to grow, spreading up her arm and beginning to eat away at her shoulder. There was no pain, but a slight disquiet began somewhere in her heart. Or, where her heart had been, when she was alive.

The silhouette of a large building loomed up before her, and Vivica paused in her walk, spectral eyes tracing the classical facade arching over a broad set of stairs. The shapes of people darted in and out of the two large double doors - not many, though a few. Vivica had learned that this indicated it was night in the city. Most people slept at night - that was always hard to recall. Something about the building touched an impulse within her, and she followed it, stepping off the Light Line for the first time and wandering up the staircase.

The entrance hall was vaulting and broad, most of it lost in deep shadow like the rest of this realm, though illuminated here and there by the glowing forms of the living. A wide staircase spiraled up from the ground, offering an inviting journey, but Vivica found her attention called to a smaller hallway on the main floor. A wisp of indigo-blackness, deeper even than the surrounding gloom, seemed to dart out of sight just beyond the first bend. Vivica cocked her head, then followed it, relieved to, for once, be free of the relentless wind that whipped through the streets.

She walked through the smaller hallway, turning where whim dictated, trusting that she was going in the right direction. If there was a "right" direction at all. After all, she likely had forever to complete her task. But it would be nice to find them, finally. The one she was looking for. Perhaps they were here.

Rows of doors passed her on both sides as she walked, turning another corner until she felt herself slow, then stop. She looked to her left, where a small plaque on the door read "Prof. L. Esserethel."

Vivica frowned at the words, that sense of disquiet in her chest deepening even as something else leapt and tugged at her. The missing pieces of her mind had never seemed so absent, now. The words meant something, but what? She reached out one hand, fingertips fuzzing as she attempted to open the door.

No, she thought. Knock first. Don't be rude.

Vivica raised her hand to knock, but found it passed right through the door as she set her knuckles against it. She pursed her lips, staring at the door for another long moment, before she looked at the words on the plaque again. Then, curiosity overcoming even politeness, Vivica stepped through the door.

Someone sat behind the desk, someone living of course, his frame tall and lean even sitting as he was, bent over a stack of papers. Vivica froze, peering at his face, excitement beginning to flutter within her. He seemed... familiar. The angular cut of his jaw, the long clever lines of his fingers - they conjured foggy memories of quiet laughter, of the taste of coffee and smuggled cake. Cake with plenty of frosting on top. Vivica smiled, tracing the glowing lines that spiraled within his translucent shape with a kind of reverent joy. As she looked closer, she noticed a second set of lines beneath the first. Where the others glowed white-gold, these were dark - the sort of darkness that stood out even against black. Dark as a night without stars. Dark as the skies in the Alleys. A beautiful, perfect kind of darkness. The most beautiful thing in the world.

Vivica blinked at that thought - a new one. But one that made perfect sense. A memory, as real as coffee and laughter. A memory of another life, a life of white coats and black skies and all the red she could want. A life where he was as he was meant to be. Dark, and perfect, and unhidden behind a false light. Vivica moved to the side of the room and sat on the floor, watching him with rapt joy. She ignored the wavering filaments that bound her left arm together, ignored the gaping holes across her body, ignored the gnawing disquiet in her heart. Everything was going to be fine. It was going to be perfect. She had done it. She had found the most important person in the universe.

Now, all she had to do was keep him safe until he could save them all.

[Voidus]

Lucien rubbed his brow as his eyes struggled to make sense of the papers in front of him. Each word swam into the next and it was only by a dull chiming of a small clock on his desk that he realised he had been staring at the same line for an hour now. He was tired, he knew that, more tired than he could remember being before. The odd day or two in his office subsisting on a ten minute nap were nothing compared to a week without sleep. His eyes were filled with sand, his head felt aflame. And the polished wood of his desk was so cool, so comfortable as his cheek lay against it.

But every time he had closed his eyes, a long hospital hallway stretched out in front of him, at the end a room he wished desperately to reach in time but never could. He could see her, sitting on her bed and unable to see him. A long knife in her hand, a chef's knife long and wickedly sharp and coated with scarlet as she drew a line across her-

His eyes snapped open and he felt a chill immediately swallow him. How long had his eyes been closed? When had he done that and why? His eyes darted around the room, sure that he would find a bloodied body waiting for him, a letter that she had given as her final farewell atop it. But his office was empty. A glance at the clock showed that only a minute had passed. But even that was too much, any longer and he would have had to see everything.

He poured himself a glass of water, emptying the pitcher that he had been using all evening and gulped the cool liquid down. It helped for a moment, refreshing as it hit his throat and sparked nerve endings enough to pull open his bleary eyes. But the lethargy quickly returned, bidding him to return to the cool surface of the desk. And then something unusual happened. An echo of that lethargy, like a dream but one less horrifying than those that now plagued his sleep. A similar sense of tiredness. Of utter exhaustion born from endless time passing. His office shimmered around him and suddenly it was larger, sparsely decorated but comfortable, with a long table at the far end as if for large meetings. But the Professor rarely attended faculty meetings unless mandated, and they were certainly not conducted in his office. Why then did this room feel so familiar?

"Dark, quiet and comfortable." He muttered to himself, sagging eyes looking around the room. "A room I... made?"

The memory vanished as quickly as it arrived, leaving only the lingering exhaustion behind as the room returned to normal. Lucien blinked and even the memory began to fade, but he could feel... something. A blank spot in his mind. A section of time that seemed to skip suddenly. He remembered many such moments in recent days, dismissed as the product of his insomnia but perhaps.. there was something else.

"Come on Bennington. Lets get some coffee." Lucien said, standing with a yawn. "That place down the road is open late."

Absentmindedly he restacked the papers on his desk, pocketed his pen again and picked up a leather satchel. Within it were his recent notes, a pouch full of chrysts, a brass Fabrial that he had been tinkering with, and a long chefs knife. He frowned at that last one, recalling that he had been using it at home for cooking but when had it found its way into his satchel? He gave a tired shrug, regardless of how it had gotten there he would need to take it home anyway, best to leave it there.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Bennington hovered around the Professor's head as he entered the cafe. The building was appointed in the sort of warm, slightly-plush interior that mortals seemed to find relaxing. There were a few patrons still here at the late hour, but mostly the Professor was alone. Alone with his bag of materials. And his knife.

Good.

Vivica did not usually come to places like this, but the spirit was right. The moment felt right. Bennington took a cautious taste of the ever-growing madness within the Professor. The mortal veneer was growing thin indeed, and just below it was that roiling, ever-twisting lake of endless darkness. The Void. It colored every drink these days, deepening the flavor to something heady and strong. Bennington felt himself growing fat upon it, that well that could never run dry. And now flavored with the sweetness of madness - his specialty.

Bennington was hungry. He was always hungry, but he felt it more keenly now, now that he had been so cautious for so many days. The Forgery felt flimsier now, as though a key strut in the foundation had cracked and was nearly ready to break. He could afford to be generous with himself, now. He could allow himself to give in to the temptation. After all, the Professor was going to get a drink.

Why not get a drink himself?

With a twisting that shook some plane of existence far off beyond the uncaring stars, Bennington grabbed ahold of the violet thread that bound himself to Lucien Esserethel and pulled. Hard. 

@Voidus

[+Ark1002]

Quote

I just wanna say that it's really cool to see you still doing this after all these years.

 

[Voidus]

Lucien rubbed at his gritty eyes as he entered the cafe. The warm and cozy air felt even warmer than usual against his skin, such a perfect temperature to lay down in, to simply sink in this spot and let his eyes drift shut.

"Late evening again Lucien?" Called a man from behind the counter.

He was a little shorter than Lucien himself but still taller than most in the city. Flashing a smile that was the exact same practiced polite smile he gave Lucien every time he had come into this cafe, the man brushed a lock of dark hair out of his eyes before reaching for a cup and raising an expectant brow.

"Same as usual? Double shot and far too much sugar?" He asked.

"Yes." Lucien replied after a drawn out pause. "Usual please. Thanks Charlie."

Charlie gave a quick nod in reply before busying himself with the cups, seeming far too alert for this hour of the night even if he did work in a cafe with access to as much caffeine as he cared to partake in. This was of course not all that unexpected as Charlie was a Sentry, a Bronze Ferring who could very effectively force his own sleep cycle. Of all the various abilities that those in the Alleycity possessed it was one that the Professor perhaps envied the most. Lucien could remember enough even without the assistance of Copperminds and he had no real need to rely on Zincminds for his breakthroughs. But how much more effective would he be if he could simply stave off sleep when he needed? How nice would it be not to be tired? Not to always be tired?

He gave a slight shake of his head, standing up from the counter he only just now realised he'd been leaning on and forcing himself to pace to keep his eyes open and his mind on track. These strange thoughts, this idea of constant lethargy had been growing steadily worse. Perhaps it was due only to his continued state of waking, deny enough sleep and it could certainly feel like it stretched into eternity. But he could almost... feel something, something else. Like a mist that was draining away, or a thread being pulled taut.

"Sorry Lucien." Charlie said with an apologetic glance, interrupting the Professors thoughts. "Machines acting up, just gonna need to take a few minutes to clean it up, you okay to wait?"

Lucien nodded numbly to the question, eyes partially glazed over and barely processing the words until several moments later when they sluggishly made their way into his mind. Wait. He could do that couldn't he? He was very good at waiting, he'd done it practically forever. But at the same time he loathed it so greatly. Why wait when he could have what he wanted now? Surely there was a way wasn't there?

He toyed with the Fabrial in his hands, gemstone clattering against the brass fittings. He wasn't quite sure what had inspired him to create such a device, a pin that could be attached to a person to strengthen their speech. The brass carefully calming the captured Windspren down so that it would only provide as much assistance as was needed rather than bursting lungs. As he played with the Fabrial he removed the brass pin from the gemstone and looked it over carefully. This, this was a key to something wasn't it? He just needed... a moment of clarity, a flash of inspiration for pieces to come together.

All of it was somehow linked, his tiredness, Charlie's question, this pin, the recipe that he had been trying over and over to get right. He had finally achieved the correct shade of red for the frosting but it was still... lacking. The consistency was off, and the temperature wasn't quite right. But somehow he could solve that problem too, if he could just get a moment without this damnable exhaustion clouding his every thought...

The door opened behind him, letting in a chill gust as the only other customer present left for the night with a half-wave of goodbye. Charlie said something in return, but Lucien did not hear it. The chill wind gave only a slight push, opened his eyes just a little and staved off only a fraction of tiredness. But something else acted in that same instant, something that took that taut thread that he had been noticing and pulled it to what felt nearly a breaking point. But it was not the thread that would break, it was something else. It was Lucien himself, some small fracture splitting wider and wider until a hole tore open and allowed a torrent of sudden enlightenment to flood him. In an instant he remembered something, a fundamental truth, and knowledge that seemed so obvious it was a wonder how he'd not known of it moments ago.

He reached into his bag with his free hand, stepping up to Charlie as the barista tried to clean the complex mechanisms of the Fabrial that produced coffee. For his part Charlie seemed to involved in his work to even notice as the Professor moved close to him, pulling a beautiful gift of steel from his bag and sliding it carefully into his body. A noise ripped through the cafe, some vocalization that Voidus was far too focussed to notice as he pulled the blade free from Charlie's torso, turned the man carefully around and held the brass pin aloft.

"I'm going to need to put this through your chest okay?" Voidus asked with bloodshot eyes and a polite smile. "It will just hurt for a moment, don't worry. And thank you for being so very helpful. This will be much faster than waiting for the machine to be fixed."

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

Lita nodded graciously towards Laurelai and smiled, entering through the tavern door and scanning the main room for a suitable table. The Goldfox was a respectable place, cozy, the sort of place that immediately sprung to mind when one thought "tavern." It wasn't her favorite spot in the city, but it did carry a sort of storybook nostalgia that fostered contentment. And they did do a truly lovely breakfast.

She chose a table near to the bar, where it would be easy to overhear conversation without being easily overheard themselves, and flagged down the tavern keeper. A short dip into a coppermind gained her the man's name.

"Davitt, good morning. One whiskey-coffee and an egg on toast please. And whatever my companion wishes, as well."

Lita nodded to Laurelai and lapsed into the half-observant mode she had learned over the years, keeping one ear on the surrounding low buzz of talk and another on her immediate company, tin at a comfortable burn.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

Laurelai's back naturally straightened as she followed Lita into the tavern, giving a perfectly measured smile to the tavern keeper and a passing glance over the rest of the room. Hardly the most interesting collection of clientele other than what Laurelai could only guess was some kind of Listener in an oddly spiked form she'd never seen before and wrapped tightly in an uncomfortable looking brown wool cloak.

"Another whiskey coffee." She said, returning her attention and smile to Davitt. "And perhaps some plain toast, thank you."

Watching as Davitt noted the order and left, he seemed the sort to prefer to simply recall an order rather than write it down, Laurelai gave a quick glance over his person. It was a familiar habit of hers, but recently she had been adding a few additional items to her checklist. Not only did she check for posture, gait, visible injuries and to whom he paid attention, but she also noticed a quite sharp knife at his belt, calluses on his knuckles. Signs of potential danger.

"Have you been here often?" She asked Lita, even as her own attention wandered the room to perform the same check on the other patrons. "I suppose it's quite convenient to have the means of being almost anywhere in the city moments after leaving your office. Not a tavern or cafe outside of walking distance."

@ZincAboutIt

[kenod]

As Lita and Laurelai waited for their drinks a woman observed them from a different table. She looked average, with the only exception being a rather pale skin. After a minute she got up, walking to the exit past their table. As she did a sealed envelope slipped out of her sleeve, drifting onto the table. She herself continued walking, seemingly oblivious to the world around her, before exiting the tavern, vanishing into a nearby alley.

The envelope itself bore the seal of the three-tailed fox, and in it was a map, sketching out a route through nearby alleys, one that only someone trained in Alleytravel would be able to recognize and follow. The path itself ended somewhere inside the alleys, in a part not under the direct control of the DA.

Outside, hidden under a cart, a small fox watched the tavern.

@Voidus@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

"Mm, not too often, though it does have a certain charm about -"

Lita broke off answering Laurelai's question at the sound of approaching footsteps. Davitt, with their drinks? No, the step was too light, too unhurried, and Laurelai had made no look of anticipation that would herald approaching food and drink. She instinctively tensed, ready to reach into her bag for the slender bayonet, when a nondescript woman brushed past their table. Lita was confused for a moment, not expecting such a bland person to approach them, until something small fell out of her sleeve onto the tabletop. Another envelope, that rusting three-tailed fox pressed into the sealing wax like a taunt.

Got you now. Lita reached out to snag that same sleeve just as someone behind the bar dropped a glass and Lita felt herself wince at the too-loud sound, missing the moment.

Idiot, Lita cursed herself, motioning to Laurelai to get up and follow, throwing far too many chrysts down onto the table with half a snarl at the idea of missing a perfectly nice whiskey-coffee. The woman was just disappearing out of the door when Lita rose, trusting Laurelai to keep close or get left behind. She would prefer not to do this alone, but she'd be damned if someone dragged her around the city playing games with her any longer than needed. 

Once outside, Lita looked around, flaring tin in a vain attempt to catch whoever had dropped the note. She was unsurprised to find herself alone - if this person had walked through the Alleys to deliver the first note, surely they'd have ducked into another and vanished sure as anything. Employing a few more choice swearwords under her breath, Lita put her back to a nearby wall and slid open the second letter, waiting for Laurelai to emerge and wishing even more deeply for that whiskey and coffee.

@Voidus

[Voidus]

So caught up in her analysis and musings was she that Laurelai almost completely missed the exchange, the letter dropping to their table, Lita's hand darting for the woman who dropped it. She flinched at the sudden movement then spun in her seat at a loud noise behind her, eyes quickly registering a bartender ducking behind the bar to clean a shattered glass. Her eyes continued to quickly scan and then turned back to Lita but the redheaded woman was already standing and moving for the door to follow after the woman.

Idiot. Laurelai chided herself. Letting yourself be distracted like that, what were you thinking? If she thinks you are no longer of any use then Lita would not be above leaving you where she found you. Or perhaps tying off loose ends entirely.

She rose with a twirl of her dress, stepping quickly but surely towards the door. Fast enough to give some pursuit but not so fast as to risk tripping an embarrassing herself further. She had just pushed the doors open and spun in place to seek where the pair had gone when she halted. Lita had stopped against a nearby wall, leaning against it and sliding open an envelope. The other, plainer woman had vanished entirely.

"Where did she..." Laurelai's eyes darted up and down the street, searching for any hints of illusion or rapid travel. "An Elsecaller perhaps?"

It was only a moment later that her eyes slid to the space between two buildings, a small, dimly lit alleyway and the other possibility clicked into place.

"Or someone who has other means." She muttered, mostly to herself before moving to stand next to Lita as she unfolded what appeared to be a map, though one of a sort Laurelai had never seen before.

"Alleys?" She asked as her eyes scanned the paths and somehow made sense of them in a way she still didn't fully understand. "Quite a lot of effort this person is going to. And with such little bait to offer as well."

She gave a soft sigh as she leaned against the wall, eyes glancing longingly back towards the doors where their coffees were still being prepared.

"This is going to be one of those days then I suppose." She lamented.

@ZincAboutIt

[+ZincAboutIt]

“Mmm,” Lita hummed in irritated confirmation as Laurelai slid beside her and peered at the map.

It did appear that today would be ‘one of those days,’ though if she was being honest she’d been having ‘one of those’ weeks. In fact, how long had it been since she’d felt truly relaxed? Even below the simmering glory of some of her dreams, there lurked an unease that gnawed at her. Something was very wrong, and it was getting worse.

”This map indicates points of Alleytravel,” Lita explained, pointing out the odd breaks in the map design. “Only someone with extensive knowledge of the Alleys could have made this - incredibly extensive because here,” she indicated the end of the map, “is a place I have never been, or even heard of, though the location makes sense to exist. Or I suppose as much sense as the Alleys ever make.”

Lita chewed her lip, wondering who could be behind this, while at the same time feeling that old familiar excitement build at the thought of a new secret. That was the bait. Laurelai was right, there should be no reason she was chasing some absurd fox totem through the city with so little promised at the end. Possibly chasing it to her own doom. But the secret was the bait. The possibility dangled before her like a lure to a fish. Surely there was a hook in there made just for her throat. But when had that ever stopped her?

Never, something whispered in her mind, a voice that was almost her own. Lita looked at the nearby alleyway and then back to Laurelai.

”If you wish, you may retire from this fox hunt,” Lita said. “I won’t lie that I could very well lead us both to our death following this lead - which I intend to do. Follow it, that is, not die. But then most people who die foolishly don’t actually intend to. So, you have my permission to go home. You will not be penalized or receive any sort of demotion for doing so. However…”

She trailed off, meeting the blonde woman’s eyes. “I would, as always, appreciate your fine company. These things are usually more interesting with someone along. And I’ve a feeling you’re just as hungry to know what’s at the end of this map as I am. So. Do I continue alone? Or with my most promising acolyte?”

@Voidus

[Voidus]

The question seemed to bounce around inside her mind, time slowing as Laurelai turned it over in her mind. There was, as Laurelai herself mentioned, barely any reason at all to actually follow this trail which was almost certainly a trap. Already Laurelai's head was aching once more, the tension that had continued building in her pressed desperately against the interior of her skull without even a morning coffee to relieve it now. What possible use could she be, even if she was as Lita had claimed, her most promising acolyte?

Laurelai drew herself up, straightening until she reached her full height and gave an intrigued and bewitching smile. The pain and tension vanished from her expression as if dismissed by magic, replaced only with an insatiable hunger and curiosity.

"Well I would hardly leave you all the fun of pulling the secrets from this mystery all to yourself. I'm not quite dressed for a fox hunt but I suppose it will have to do for this one."

Taking a glance at the map, and then into Lita's green eyes, Laurelai gave a single nod of acceptance and deference, stepping towards the nearby alleyway and offering an arm out.

"Shall we?"

@ZincAboutIt @kenod

[+ZincAboutIt]

Lita looked into Laurelai’s face and felt, for a moment, that swelling sense of familiarity, of deep fondness and a loyalty she could not justify. Something whispered to her that this was right, that walking into danger with Laurelai was the most reasonable thing she could do in such a case, that the woman would do all in her power to protect Lita, and Lita would do the same for her. Of course. Who would not sacrifice safety and comfort for a friend?

But, Laurelai was not her friend. She wasn’t. They had not known one another for even a month, and though Lita had certainly gained some deeper, more personal knowledge of the woman recently, that hardly qualified to the level of friendship. And if it did, Lita had far more friends scattered around the city than she previously believed. 

Perhaps it was simply their similarity, the joy of finding a kindred spirit, that brought on such fancies. Yes, surely that was all this was. Mutual appreciation of one another’s qualities. Lita looked over Laurelai once more when the blonde mentioned her attire - certainly much to appreciate.

Lita matched Laurelai’s smile, taking the offered arm with an amused tilt of the head. “We shall. Such civility… I may just have to give you a reward for being so very accommodating, Laurelai. You think on what you may want, while we walk, won’t you?”

Then the two walked into the Alley, and like a soft wind, vanished into the dark.

@Voidus @kenod