I think I am here.

I’d like to join.

Jones jumped back. His usually intimidating eyes were now wide with fear. Pell immediately straightened up, tapping bronze. Sam was the only one who could say anything. “Please,” He said quietly. Please don’t kill us.” One would have thought a group of bandits would’ve reacted better in the face of death. But currently, they were confused and surrounded in fire. “You are pretty,” Sam said, trying to get her to quit the fire. Red has always worshipped some fire bird, how would he react if he found out his god was real?

Lusk finished his drink and thumped it on the table. He felt like a parent trying to get their kid to a certain job when the kid was fighting them every step of the way. It was why he never thought of having kids. They were complete cremlings. He lowered his voice and prepared to leave. “Look, whatever,” he said. “I’ll go.” He paused, thought idly. “You know, you said your chance has gone. But I just realised. This is a chance. But I guess it’s up to you to take it or not.” He stood up and smiled tiredly. “Maybe, when you’re my age you’ll see just how rare we are. Or maybe you won’t care. Not my problem. I’ll be dead.” He turned around and looked the bar. Order another drink, or no?

That’s true. And the Skybreaker spren seem to fly too, hence Gravitation. They look like rips in reality (I think that’s how it was put) so division. Wyndle grows along the ground or sky, so Progression. No Abrasion.

Redatrick continued putting the dye in his hair, listening to the two. “Edgedancer?” He replied. “Sprin? Santh-whatever and Whitespine? Willshaper?” He was new to these terms, though they were certainly used like he was meant to know them. “The name’s on this world, are interesting.” He said with a hint of a grin in his voice, finishing applying the dye. @whattheHoid @Sorana *^* “We were just about t’leave,” Knife-eyes said to her in his natural Roughs accent. “Lookin’ for a friend, apparently he ain’t here.” “Hey, pretty lady,” Sam said, before Pell punched him in the shoulder.

“Lusk Uwik. Ghostblood Council Member,” he replied instantly, looking towards the girl and sighing. “Look. What are you? Twelve. You’re far too young to be pouty at life. That’s my job. And if you’ve lived even a fraction of my age, you know that the ‘every person gets one chance at life’ sentiment is storming rust. “I don’t make speeches. I leave that to the other Council Members. But you know something I do? Get things done. It’s the only reason they even keep me. “You know how many chances at life I’ve had? Far too many to count. Far too many moments where I could have turned around. But nope. And look at me.” He paused for a second. “And, I don’t care if you can fight,” he said. “Nowadays every man and his dog can fight. It’s not about that.” He felt a tad bit of a sympathy for the girl. It wasn’t her choice to be an Atium Ferring, and yet now she’d have to deal with Lusk. Sympathy, he noted. That’s a good start.

“I mean, yes, that as well.” Lusk said as he waved to Lena as she left. He turned back to the Atium Ferring. “And I may be a little drunk. But!” He stood up and chugged his drink and set it down, blinking a couple times. He collapsed in his chair again. “But, you see it’s quite annoying. My selfish self sees someone like you, Atium Ferring, attitude, and what are you doing with it? When they think of Atium Ferrings, all people are going to think of is me,” he gestured to himself, and then pointed at her. “And you. And neither of us are exactly pinnacles of impressiveness. But at least you can change that.” An idea flashed to his head, and he quickly dismissed it, aging forward to where he could handle the alcohol. What was he doing? Talking to a random underage girl in a bar about training? It was more than a little odd. “Ok, fair enough,” he said. “But at least learn some sort of fighting technique. I don’t want to die and then have someone who doesn’t even know how to use their power as the only person who has it.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Storming kids,” he muttered.

For South Scadrian numbers, maybe three or four? I haven’t really looked at other games though so I’m not sure how many elims have been in other games with the same amount of players. So, I need to look at the medallion roles again, to see what we can use to find elims. We can PM in this game, right?

“Ok,” Redatrick said. He took a deep breath, and looked at himself through the mirror. He accepted the gloved and nodded in appreciation, slipping them on and taking out the dye packet. Slowly he hovered it over his head. His hair was on the shorter side, so hopefully it wouldn’t take too much time. Taking the dye he put over the back parts of his hair, trying to spread it evenly. “So... your power is animals?” He asked, trying to make conversation. He was a little nervous. “What can you do with it?”

Redatrick nodded, walking over and entering the bathroom. Taking his hat off and placing the the box of dye on the sink he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. Exhausted. “So, do I just put in my hair or something?” He asked, opening the box.

“Alright.” Redatrick hesitantly looked at the box of dye again. “Where is it?” He asked, prepared to follow Mike. He didn’t respond to what he said of the experimenters. They certainly seemed dangerous, though how much of that was bias? There was only one way to know, and Redatrick didn’t fancy it.

“Green?” Redatrick asked, then paused. He had no idea what sort of fashion went on here. “But if you could show me, that would be great.” He looked back to the exit. They hadn’t returned. “And I was just asking to see if they’d die on their way to find me. Who knows, they could run into one of those experimenters.”

Redatrick nodded. It made sense, the boys fear of the outside. They must have experimented on him, that was why he found everything out here dangerous. “How does dye work?” He asked Mike,” tossing the box around. “I’ve never used it before.” He ran a hand through his hair, knee he might have had to change its colour. He looked to Mike again. “I’ve got a question. Out of all the magics here, how many do you think would be stronger than Allomancy or Feruchemy?” Maybe, of he was lucky, his ex-gang could kill themselves trying to find him.

@Lord Meeker

Redatrick turned to Mike. “You said you thought they were going to tear you apart,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t oppose if you wanted to help.”

“It does,” Lusk said, taking a another gulp of his drink. He listened to the woman, what she would do with his power. Ask her older self for advice. Huh, he’d never thought of doing that. But somethings she said betrayed a lack of understanding. You couldn’t just forget things by changing your age. “Nowadays,” he gestured to himself. “I just use it to live my life. Old age has a lot of downsides I like to keep at bay.” He turned to the Atium Ferring again. She was glaring at him. “Fine, don’t drink,” he said a little drunk. In his current age, he was always drunk anyway. “You know,” he said, resting his elbows on the table. “46 years and I’ve never met another one.” He sighed, and pointed at her. “You’re young. I’m pretty much on my deathbed. I should teach you a few things. Especially if all you use Atium for is ducking.” He tossed the thought around in hi head. He hated kids. All of them. But this one was different.

Red fiddled with the dye box a d nodded in appreciation to Mike and the other lady before Bella came up again. She asked if she should kill his ex-gang. They used to be his friends. But they were hunting him until he was dead. And he couldn’t take any chances. “That would definitely be good,” he said, looking to her. “But they’re strong. And Sam’s a Lurcher, So whatever pyrotechnics you have hidden underneath your sleeve he could pull it out.”

“The only thing fancy about it,” Lusk said as he signalled the barkeep. “Is that we probably use the most expensive material in the would to do it.” He gave another eighth of Atium to the bartender and gestured to Lena. “Give her, like, some sort of whiskey or whatever.” He turned back to her. “Well, at least you think it’s fancy,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “What would you do with it?”

Lush eyed her drink. “You really gotta start drinking,” he said. “I mean, you can be older, so why not drink now? Hell, I’ll even buy it for you.”

~Just takin’ the win, don’t mind me~

Because they exterminated all of the right ones.

Redatrick smile a little at Mike’s reaction. “They are a bit scary, yeah.” He looked to the exit, where they’d gone off to. “As for why they believed you, I’m guessing because you’re good at talking. Sam’s gullible enough and Pell’ generally the same, but you got Knife-eyes, he was the older guy, to go, so that’s something. And —” Noel. He suddenly felt sick, brought a hand to his stomach and another to his mouth. He felt like he was going to vomit, though he didn’t. He suddenly felt very nauseous, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tried to drive out the ringing in his ears. Nicro Noel, Nicro Noel, Nicro Noel. He stayed like that for a couple minutes, then looked to Mike. “That, that strategy’s when they say that word. With N. I really don’t have a good reaction to that word. I’d prefer if you forgot about it,” he said, then worried. If Mike had heard about it, then they’d been talking about that. Which meant it might not be so easy next time. “Dying my hair sounds weird,” he said. He’d never done it. “I’m not a woman, trying to make my hair stay black. But, I guess I’ll do it anyway.” He looked down at his shotgun. “And even if I’m carrying another weapon for show, I’m keeping the gun.” He looked to Mike again. The kid still looked a bit worried, hand shaking. “Most of them are all bark and no bite anyway,” he said. It was a total lie, most of them fought just as bad as they said they did, but hopefully it would comfort him.

Lusk hadn’t thought of it like that. His own taskforce of different ages? “It is a lot less fancy than that,” Lusk said, aging to his twenties, Arrogance permeated him. “But, I mean, I appreciate it. What were you saying about coolness again? Do you want another drink?” He asked. “I can buy it.”

Sam sighed and gestured to Mike. “See?” He said to Jones. Jones stayed still as Sam shuffled back, ready to walk off, away from the warehouse. Pell rested a hand on Jones’ shoulder. “Come on, man,” he said quietly. It wasn’t that he was using a different tone now, Pell usually was quiet in just about everything he did. Which included talking. Jones stayed still, noting the twitch of his arm. He looked up at Mike straight in the eyes and Pell looked down. They called him Knife-eyes Jones for two reasons. One of them was that his gaze was like a knife in the way it pierced people. And the other was because he had something a habit for stabbing people he didn’t like directly in the eyes. Both eyes, as in he’d take out the knife and stab the other eye, and wash the knife and keep it for later. Jones kept the stare, directly to Mike. A twitch, an arm twitch. It had to mean something. The hasty shake of his head, the push to go somewhere else. The arm that looked... different? He clenched his jaw, and slowly he stepped back. Interrogation over. “Nothing here,” he said. Sam sighed in relief and Pell nodded slightly. They walked backwards, the way they’d came. “We should use the Noel strategy,” Pell said. Jones looks towards him. “The Noel strategy? You’d betray him like that?” “He already betrayed us.” “Yeah, but we’re not the bad guys in this situation. If we ever have a suspicion that he’s in the area, we can use it. But only if everything else doesn’t work.” “Fine,” Pell said, taking one more look to the warehouse and noting its location. If it came down to it, it was possible he could make a night visit. *** *** *** Redatrick took a hasty look backwards again, half expecting to be shot at but he breathed a sigh of relief as they left again. He needed to hide better. No more chances. He jogged over to Mike. “We need a better disguise,” he said. “You’re all okay?”