Voidus

Just once or twice an era every era since the dawn of the Alleyverse

There's also the problem that literally nobody other than the DA know how to use the Alleys in anything even resembling a safe manner, particularly in the Forgery since people don't even believe they exist.

Best explanation I've ever heard.

Yeah we should probably add Fused to the Index at some point.

Spaceships have proudly been a part of the Alleyverse since I think before the cytoverse even existed. They nuked the city that one time.

"You gave up your new found life. You friends, your guild, everyone who's ever known you and given you an identity other than that which Voidus gave you. You gave up autonomy to once again be half of a whole." Sudiov hesitated at that, looking up to meet the shades eyes and surprised by the empathy that dwelt there. But even if correct, that sacrifice is undoubtedly worth it. "If I were to ask you if it were worth it, you'd say yes. We both know you would. And you'd do it over again if you had the choice, because that's the kind of man you are." The shade continued, as though reading Sudiovs thoughts though that would of course be impossible. "But it was not a single moment of sacrifice, was it? You did not die in a blaze of glory, did not meet a heroic death with head held high. You endure." It had concerned Sudiov as well, how long could this be maintained? Certainly he was still stable now, but this entire endeavour would be meaningless unless it could be maintained indefinitely. Permanently apart from the world, permanently opposing the Stranger. "The hospital has become a nexus of the fractured, and thus a nexus of the fractures in your world. Look at what's happening now, look who's there..." The shade explained, opening a window nearby. Sudiov wanted to dismiss the window, to ignore this explanation entirely and retreat back into solitude. Let the Stranger deal with this apparition unopposed so that he would not need to risk being mislead by whatever its plan was. But the hospital... It had become a problem, too many who remembered fragments gathered in one place. Aylitha's reach could not extend to them all quickly and unobtrusively enough to prevent minor damage to the Forging. Compounding the problem, Voidus visited frequently, and while the Forgery stabilized around him he also posed one of the biggest problems of all if any of the fractures spread to him. He looked through the window, watching as swarms of shadows took patients one by one, chaos broke out as the building shook. A shining figure, new since the forging spoke to a nurse and was taken by writhing darkness. Patients fled there room, others lay trapped within restraints. Doctors and patients exited, some calmly and others distinctly less so. One of the patients, with a spiritweb so cracked it would be a miracle if the false memories held for even a week after being replaced, was speaking with a pair... "What is this." Sudiov hissed, one eye flaring bright with golden light. He whirled on the shade, his fingers tangled in the insubstantive material that he was composed of and dragged him closer. "What are these holes in the pattern? These should not be here. What. Have. You. Done?" As he spat the last word he leaned in until only an inch or two separated him from the shade, eye glowing brighter and brighter, ready to unleash a force that would annihilate it from existence. Ready to Voidmake if that was what was needed, which it very well might be. The forgery had been elaborate and had the power of two gods to maintain it. New arrivals to the Alleyverse posed a minimal enough strain that they could be managed even if thousands more arrived. But this? These were not supposed to be here. Could not be here. For Sudiov with his constant connection to the false world and viewing them from the Spiritual realm they looked like nothing so much as two gaps, spaces where the world should be but was not. But physically? What fresh nightmare has he released into the city? @Fatebreaker

Well it's more the joint problem of if some characters start progressing too far ahead in the timeline then that means that the RP as a whole is restricted from any wide-ranging effects in the intermediary time. So it is generally not advisable to start a new day while in the middle of main plot until everyone is ready for it.

Better hope you don't get struck by the dreaded end of day curse. Though I guess that was a Reckoners problem more than an AV one, still I think it's come up a few times.

No even the hospital wouldn't be big enough, it's still affecting those who have left. And other people who haven't arrived at the hospital but already show symptoms. Her eyes were drawn to the motion of Lita stumbling a half-step but her mind barely processed it. Though perhaps in some sympathetic response she felt almost as though something had lurched beneath her at the same moment. Not to mention the Alleys, they aren't even physically connected to the rest of the city, there's no way any ordinary Forgery could maintain its effects this far out. She felt almost as though her brain would overheat as she flitted from one idea to the next, creating a list of possibilities and dismissing them almost as quickly. A cold shower would be so helpful right now. cool water spilling from above, sourceless and eternal, washing away material cares and anything that was not the pool. Her eyes snapped open from a half-lidded thoughtfulness, wide-eyed she stared at Lita and realised she had been asked a question. “What’s possible?” The redhead asked. Anything is possible. The waters whispered. You just need to find us again. She shook herself at that, she'd been told that she looked like her father when she did so but it always helped clear her thoughts. So why was that memory not fading like the others did? "A Forgery." She said, trying now to think aloud. "Or something like one. These symptoms, the memories the blank spots, the headaches. Classic signs of the cracks showing in a Soulstamp. But to affect so many people it would need to be enormous, and whoever was doing the Forging would need to be more Invested than a thousand Forgers. Is there something else maybe? Something similar but more powerful?" Abilities sometimes repeated themselves across the cosmere and the worlds beyond. Lightweaving was found in numerous worlds, each with their own uniqueness to the power. Perhaps the DA would know of something similar to Forgery but vastly more powerful. @ZincAboutIt @Fatebreaker

Nah looks perfect to me. Ninjaing people is a time honored forum tradition

Laurelai didn't even try to read the message that Lita received, it would doubtless be either obscure or coded, possibly both. And if it were something she could actually make sense of then that would probably be a quick way to sign her own execution. But it did not take a master Forger to read Lita's expression after receiving it. A disquieting sense of unease, followed shortly after by a smile so dangerous that Laurelai would have taken a step back if she weren't already sitting. "I think approaching the tailor is probably the best to find out his actual identity." Laurelai said, giving enough of a pause for Lita to collect herself. "Other people's identities can get a little muddled and messy in a Forgery, not to mention it would only work if there was a chance he'd have actually told me. But it should be enough that I can try to find more connections in the files themselves. He picked out a few and I managed to get the names of them at least, it would tell us if he were looking for anything suspicious." Messy was an understatement, there was a reason so few Forgers managed to perfect Soul Stamping or Resealing. A persons history was orders of magnitudes more complex than an objects, and their cognitive self influenced in far more ways. Not just by what they thought of themselves, but what others thought of them and even further to what they thought others thought of them. It was a puzzle that never ended, just descending deeper and deeper into madness. There was no perfect way to forge a person's history, there would always be gaps. About to speak again she paused, the thought lingering in her mind as though a sign of something important. Laurelai may not be the most impulsive woman in the world but she did trust her instincts on most things. Instincts processed information far faster than the rational mind could, and often made important connections even if it didn't always give the working out for how it arrived at such conclusions. So why did she feel that this was an important thing for her to think about. She'd thought about it before as well, the headaches, the memory lapses, it felt almost like the snapback from a slight problem with a Forgery. Flashes of things that were familiar but you had no real memory of, missing periods of time, headaches when memory and reality tried to align themselves. "Possible I suppose." She murmured aloud, her brow furrowed deep in thought and Lita momentarily forgotten. "But why these people, and how could so many be maintained?" It was impossible, there was no way a Forger could sustain that many Soul Stamps simultaneously and give enough of a connection between the person and the stamps for them to keep even at a distance. Let alone the fact that anyone stamped in that way would notice the stamp itself, smoking on their skin. The only alternative would be if they were tied up in a stamp affecting something even larger, the cognitive pull of that could distort other aspects nearby. So had someone forged the entire hospital somehow? And if so how was Lita connected? @ZincAboutIt

Professor Esserethel stumbled his way down the stone steps at the university, rubbing his reddened eyes only made them worse but the momentary relief was enough for now. It had been another long night, caused by his chronic inability to tell what time of day it was or when he'd last eaten or slept. He'd often gone a full day cooped up in a dim laboratory making notes before Laurelai called to check in and remind him to sleep. She hadn't called this time, but a friendly member of the cleaning staff had advised him it was morning when they saw his bloodshot eyes. "You're not immortal." He reminded himself with a chuckle. "Flesh and blood need rest and sustenance." His wife had told him such often, and he'd repeated it to Laurelai many times whenever she got too involved in her own Forgery studies. She'd inherited his laser focus and ability to ignore distractions but thankfully her internal clock seemed much more accurate than his and she at least did not completely lose track of time. At least not until now. He frowned at the thought, Laurelai had been distracted lately. They hadn't actually seen each other since the festival, which wasn't long enough to be suspicious in itself but she had also barely replied to the messages he'd sent her. "Perhaps a dinner together." He said, thinking aloud. "Or maybe she just needs some space." The ground trembled under his feet, lightly at first and then with a sudden increase in intensity. He stumbled on a step, almost falling over the railing before catching himself, then almost falling again as a student nearby was also thrown off balance and collided with him. "Are you okay?" He asked him, helping the poor boy regain his footing. The shaking stopped as he asked, and a moment later everyone seemed to have recovered though casting some curious glances around. Some were more familiar with earthquakes than others but even those who knew them well looked briefly concerned. For his part the Professor immediately pulled a phone from a pocket, dialling a number and then quickly stuffing it back with frustration when the call could not connect. "By Domi's least-merciful-" He cut himself off mid-curse, one he'd learned from his wife and then promised her never to use in public. But it was with irritation and concern that he turned to look Eastward, in the direction of the hospital. Had Laurelai been working this morning? He wasn't sure of her schedule but she rarely took early morning shifts unless forced. She was probably just home, asleep. But the hospital was an older building, if she was there... He rushed to the street, immediately catching a transport to the hospital. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not once in her memory had Whisper ever skipped. Not even when assuming the most vapid and bubbly of disguises had she deigned it necessary to actually skip with joy. But the joy and relief she felt at finally being taken seriously, being given time and resources for this most important of tasks. Well if ever there was a time she would skip, this would be it. She did not. A reserved walk through the Alleys was celebration enough. She had work to be about, no time or energy spare to waste on frivolity. She needed to get back into the city, she needed to find another source of whispers, and trace it. Do what needed to be done to find the truth. She had the time to listen now, perhaps if she listened hard enough she would finally hear what they were saying. She kept a smooth gait as she exited the Alleys, blending seamlessly into the crowd. Changing appearance every so often when she was completely obscured, just on the off chance anyone was following or looking for her. She had just shifted again to resemble a young boy with a stack of newspapers under his arm when she stopped. People brushed past her, a few bumping her small frame with enough force to nearly push her over but she was too distracted to pay attention. That sound. Not a whisper, something else. She was puzzling over it, looking in the faces of others to see that none seemed to be reacting. A high, keening sound, almost like the beginnings of a wail. But then something happened that everyone took note of, the ground began to tremble and shake underfoot, traffic screeched to a halt and pedestrians all grabbed buildings, railings and each other for support as they looked around in confusion. Whisper fell against the side of a building, unable to even identify it or break her fall in any way she collapsed onto the sidewalk, hands clutching at her ears, at her temples, ready to pull the hair from her head. She had been right, this was not a whisper, it was a scream.

Laurelai smiled at Lita's shared appreciation for the well-dressed man, good to know that they had more in common with each other than just an endless hunger for mystery and headaches that wouldn't leave them alone. And the coin. A quiet voice reminded her. She almost winced at that, as though she could forget what had interested the two of them in this in the first place. “You say you found his tailor? That could be useful. Who is it?” Lita asked, breaking her train of thought. "West and Carson, over past the Bronze market." Laurelai replied. "I haven't been there much myself, other than once when I was seeing a Soother with truly dreadful tastes. He did clean up nicely though. But I know a lot of people who do if we need a way in." She probably has an army of infiltrators and assassins she could send in. A snide comment arrived in the back of her mind. She doesn't need you to make introductions. "But my time might be better spent trying a few stamps." Laurelai suggested with a moments hesitation. "It's not exactly something I've tried much before, but theoretically records are relatively cognitively stable, people don't usually think of them as being much other than what they are. And since I was already in that room looking through those files it wouldn't be a tremendous change for me to have stayed there looking through more." It was the solution she'd thought of while walking to the Alleys, having to leave before retrieving hard details was difficult but this was at least one way that she could potentially turn that into an asset. And there was no way for somebody to track what she'd looked into if she hadn't actually looked into them. She wasn't sure how clear the memories would be on something like this, usually her Soul Stamps were for changing something physical or a set of well-learned abilities, not specific memories like this. And since she didn't already know what was in the files it would be even more difficult. But where was she supposed to experiment if not here? @ZincAboutIt

The day Voidus finally returns to the rank of rotting chasmfiend corpse.

Well there's the philosophical answer of 'always' since it retcons history.

Struggling to make out Lita's words through the sudden onset of pain, accompanied by what almost felt like an image of some kind, Laurelai was about to lean against one of the walls to steady herself when the ground lurched underfoot again. One of her knees crumpled and she barely managed to keep from tumbling to the floor at the sudden motion. From the looks of it Lita had brought them back to her office. "Here, drink that. Then give me your report." Laurelai gratefully took the cup from Lita, swirling the amber liquid before taking a steadying sip. The momentary burn as the whiskey hit her throat brought the room into a sharper focus, and after an initial flare up the pain in her temple began to die down again. "What the rust was that?" She wondered allowed before giving herself a gentle shake. "Sorry, never mind about that." She took a seat, smoothing her dress and readjusting herself into a straight-backed posture as she met Lita's eyes, saw a flicker of the same confused panic that she herself felt though it was quickly masked beneath a carefully controlled expression. But it wasn't Laurelai's job to try to comfort Lita, it was her job to report the information that she'd managed to find. "As expected no issues getting in, I had to see a patient quickly to avoid any suspicions but she may actually be related in some way. Difficult to say but she had similar symptoms to the other files, I thought it might be helpful to briefly interview someone directly in addition to what was in the files and then-" Laurelai's speech faltered for a moment. What had she done when she left Vivica's room. She could remember talking to her, remember being in the records room, but not the time between. "Um, then I entered into records and started pulling them. I had a few minutes to myself, long enough to confirm that this pattern is certainly growing worse. Three times the number of cases this month compared to last, most of them minor but a number of more severe cases." She continued her report, trying not to break the flow of information but still she internally puzzled over that gap in memory. It wasn't like what she'd experienced other flashes of, not old memories that appeared in flashes. Anterograde not retrograde? But even though it was different to the others it reminded her of something. Not that unsettling familiarity that she couldn't explain, but just a vague mental connection. It felt almost like the blank space that could appear in her memories when she forged herself, when the memories of the stamp didn't match her reality and her brain tried to reassert itself as best it could and so simply blanked out the incongruous memory. But that's ridiculous, I'm not carrying any of my soulstamps with me and I would have noticed the seal. She thought, dismissing the errant idea. "These two arrived later, the woman first who's either a thief or a Lightweaver if I had to guess, coat was either copied or stolen from another doctor. Not the best infiltrator I've ever seen, couldn't improvise a lie to save her life. She was looking for similar information and pulled a lot of the same files that I had. The other was less suspicious, might have been nothing and I checked and made sure he wasn't wearing any illusions. I picked up a few of the names he was pulling to be safe though, and I know his tailor so we can probably find a name there. But may have just been someone from legal."

Oh I don't know about that, I mean my first character was... *Looks at a literal god of the AV* Hm... Okay but I probably just enjoy a bit of power fantasy, I'm sure that continued on after all my my later characters were: *Looks at dog* Hm... Okay, you may have a point.

Newcomers to the forum, seeing old AV RPers: Ooh, the wise old ones who created one of the largest RPs. First era AV: Lol, what if I was a sentient rock this time?

Brow isn't quite right. Laurelai thought. She erased the line and tried to position it again, the well-dressed man she had managed to outline quickly but the woman was taking a little longer. Had the brow arched? Not too strongly but perhaps it was a little raised as well. The ground lurched underneath her as the Alleys shifted again, a little unexpected this time and she stumbled a little mid-stride. But if she could just finish these last few lines... ”Well if I knew you had a death wish, I’d have made you an R&D intern and saved myself the trouble.” Laurelai blinked, staring blankly at the page for just an instant longer as her hand smoothly sketched the final line, then looked up to meet a pair of angry green eyes. Lita, arms crossed and standing in the middle of the Alley. What? Laurelai reacted in a sudden moment of panic, wondering what she could have done. Then she paused, eyes drifting down to the sketchbook then up to the Alley floor and walls, and finally the briefest of glances upwards to the mass of writhing darkness. Oh. "Whoops?" She said, aiming for an apologetic tone. "Forgot where I was for a minute." Fantastic first impression Laurelai, wandering through an ancient and dangerous series of interdimensional alleyways while sketching. Immediately after you had to leave the hospital due to outside interference. Why did that chiding voice so often manage to sound like her mother? "Wanted to sketch the two people I saw earlier while the memory was still fresh." She apologized, tearing the two pages from her book. She was stuffing the pen back into a pocket when her hand bumped another folded sheet, with a momentary frown she pulled that out too, unfolding it and seeing one of Vivica's drawings. Had she given her one of those? She remembered they'd spoken briefly while Laurelai hid in her room but this drawing... She lifted a hand to her temple as another sharp pain pierced her temple. @ZincAboutIt

"Perhaps we shall." Laurelai replied with a smile, drinking the man's appearance in one final time before turning and making for the door. She spared a glance for the other woman, 'Doctor Shanaran' and saw her pulling some of the files Laurelai had reshelved. Well that was to be expected, she'd as good as told Laurelai what she was working on so that wouldn't be a surprise. The real question was whether or not anyone else was also looking into this. Retrieved a little info. She sent to Lita. And managed to extract myself out without much issue. Doesn't seem like anybody is following but will duck in and out of the Alleys to be sure. She gave a few smiles to the other doctors, nurses and patients as she made her way out and was almost tempted to drop in on Vivica but what would be the point? Perhaps she should ask her father to check in at some point, the poor woman could probably do with a friendly face that wasn't trying to sedate her. She hesitated for a moment as she exited the hospital front doors and back onto the busy streets of the city, momentarily disoriented by the light change before she adjusted and her blue eyes locked onto a nearby alleyway. Making a beeline for it she tried to remember what Lita had talked to her about and felt a stab of throbbing pain that seemed to reverberate through her body. And then she felt a connection, a sense of some grand, infinite labyrinth that connected every place to every other place in a pattern so astoundingly chaotic and confusing that it made even Soulstamping feel like a child drawing stick figures. Shift. She thought, trying to nudge the pattern as she needed it and gratefully feeling an acceptance. The whole plan adjusted to fit her request into it, becoming ever more convoluted as she stepped into the darkness. A disorienting experience, somehow both familiar and vastly incomprehensible. But she had arrived in the Alleys again, for now she should try to find Lita again. But while we're walking... She pulled a sketchpad from her back and balanced it comfortably in one hand while the other pulled a pencil free and she began a loose outline. The oval of a face, sharp neck lines turning into well-squared shoulders. And of course that suit was unforgettable. If she showed this at West and Carson's she should be able to get a name for at least one of the two individuals who had briefly cohabited the records room with her. @ZincAboutIt

Nonsense, I would never be so foolish as to leave ash behind.

Gamma Seven trotted down the Alley, three and four tailed along with him for a time before peeling off into other Alleys and exiting out into the city proper. Wordlessly he watched each of them leave, committing their departing figures to memory in the event that any of these brave soldiers did not return from their mission. They were strong, well trained, but the city was unpredictable now, and the Alleys even more so. He could smell it everywhere, the heavy stench of some power forcibly asserting itself over the city, over the world. The people of the city, even the DA had not seemed to notice, or those who did were either silenced or barely realised what they were sensing. But his squad knew, all of them had noticed the anomalies, the shadows that took the people who remembered, the gaps in memory and the holes in reality. But none would listen to their warning, everywhere they had travelled they had been dismissed, nobody had taken them seriously, nobody had understood. And now time was running out, soon enough the gaps would overtake the world and everything would come apart at the seams. His team had volunteered for one final attempt to find someone to listen to them, anyone who could see the signs and understand them. Just one person who was not a gormless idiot. He stepped into the sunlight of the city streets, blinking until his eyes adjusted and taking stock of those around him. His position in an alley afforded him a key position from which to gauge the street without being seen. No moving shadows, that was very good news. Plenty of people, that was good as well, he could maximize the exposure now, force everyone to hear even if he had to shout into their ears. A younger group had gathered on the steps of a nearby building, sitting and talking amongst themselves. Perhaps he should start with them? The younger ones could sometimes make intuitive leaps that adults found difficult, and perhaps one of these could even understand. Greetings. He said as he solemnly walked towards them. I bring grave tidings, you must help me to spread this message as far as we can. If we do not stop it soon then the chaos will overtake the world, you and all those you know are in great danger! "A puppy!" One of the children yelled, abandoning their discussion and rushing towards Gamma Seven. The Seekrador let out a whine of frustration and rolled his eyes. He was a proud hunter, seer of truth and bringer of warnings. Why did these idiot humans continue to confuse him with dumb mutts? You must listen! He insisted, head tilting to one side to convey his frustration as he opened his eyes wide to capture attention. You cannot ignore the signs! "Aww look at how cute he is!" The child said, wrapping two arms around his body in a manner that he had most certainly not agreed to. The other children began to gather around as well, spouting similar inanities. None of them had seemed to understand his communication, they still only communicated with those primitive vocalisations. Even when Gamma Seven looked towards some nearby adults and requested their help they had simply smiled in sweet, dumb ignorance. The life of a soldier is a difficult one. Gamma Seven mused.

Don't make promises you can't keep Mac.

I have spent three years building Laurelai up as an extremely fashion conscious forger, when someone walks in in a fine suit I am darn well going to recognise that fact Laurelai probably also has some vague thoughts of potentially honeypotting a slightly suspiciously timed individual. But it's mostly just that she's a sucker for anyone who knows how to dress well.

"Laurelai." She said without hesitation. "Or Doctor Esserethel if we need to be particularly formal about it." No point concealing her name here, asking about a blonde forger who worked for the hospital would earn two names, and lovely as Nyen was the woman was 4'8" if she was anything and her short, dyed hair would be difficult to mistake for Laurelai's. As she finished reshelving the well-dressed man seemed to catch her watching. "Like what you see?" He asked with a slight grin. She cocked an eyebrow in a mock-scandalized expression for a moment before her own grin came through. "Hard not to like good craftsmanship." She noted, stepping a little closer and flicking the lapel. "Especially when paired with imported Nalthian silks, say what you will about the ethics of resurrecting the dead as a labour force the Nalthians sure do know their fabrics. And of course the rest of it..." Her eyes ran along the fitting for a moment, custom tailored of course. And expensive, but not just expensive, well chosen as well. Either a talented personal stylist or a personal appreciation for the finer points of fashion. And of course a talented tailor to fit it to the man in question, an excellent fit and fine piece of craftsmanship. All too often the wealthy but clueless purchased a fine enough suit but it ended up wearing them rather than the other way around. "West and Carson's?" She said, hazarding a guess as to tailor. They'd arrived from one of the more modern timelines of Scadrial a few years back and secured themselves a rather excellent and satisfied client list in that short time.