Silva

Or, as they liked to call themselves, C₆H₁₂O₆ and C₆H₁₂O₆. People sometimes had trouble telling them apart when they went by that.

Huh. An admittance of fault. In the past, rather than recent, but a fault all the same. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief, yet again. It was fairly damp by now. "I think you're still foolish," she said softly, fearing that too strong a voice might scare him back into his shell. This monotonous voice seemed more emotional than any before in the conversation even without truly containing variance in tone. Aderet kept her gaze on his. "Foolish indeed." Then she looked away, her eyes falling on a reunited couple. They seemed to be coming together once more, forgiving past faults, moving on, and embracing one another as they were. That's what Dusk was lacking. His self-hatred was blinding and forcing him to delude himself into believing that the only way to repentance was spending the rest of his life serving others. Or trying to through his work and his experiments. She had misjudged him, but not at the basis of her judgement. He was missing something, just not what she'd thought. He had yet to do the most important thing. Forgive himself. Foolish..."Just in a different way."

Because there was a coup occuring in the ghanderflaffle empire.

Decree

...The Longest Thread. The shark dove back down into the water before anyone in the taxi thought to ask it any questions about what had just happened.

The feta was perplexed. Moments before it had been fleeing from a flying taxi. Now, it seemed, the feta was somewhere else. Somewhere...different.

In his haste, the feta slipped from the pelican's grasp, falling dramatically, in slow-motion, towards the water.

Indecision was apparent on Freedom's face, so when Honerva spoke, it was Pry who answered. There was one thing she knew how to do, even if she hadn't done it much lately: stay calm under pressure and tough situations. "We're safe at the moment. There haven't been any sign of real threats or risks of any sort in the nearby perimeter," she said to the skull. "The only danger at this moment is that of people running off rashly." She paused. Somehow they could accomplish both goals to an extent. Sleep and make progress. Pry took the map from Bob and inspected it. "Look here. The area we're looking at is formerly residential, now abandoned. For Crow this is perfect because it means there are large, empty buildings for her to hole up with captives in. For us, it means a way to make some progress by getting to know the landscape and basic architectural styles around. Those can make actually getting in and out much easier and successful. Last time Freedom and I infiltrated a place dominated by Crow, she had infinitely more knowledge about the setup than we did. Navigation was incredibly difficult and we didn't even end up leaving the way we came. We had to use tia cards to get out. If we have even a scrap of an idea, everything simplifies. No one's going to give us a blueprint; the only way to learn is to explore and we can only do that in buildings Crow isn't in. And, being abandoned buildings, we can camp out there. Scouting isn't all that draining. We can do that to make a dent, sleep, and be ready to act immediately tomorrow morning." Her phone pinged loudly, breaking the mood of the room. The text was from Compile. And don't worry, I'm awake and working magic. Crow won't be getting much rest. "And Compile says she's got us covered for now.," Pry finished. She looked back at the skull. "There's only so much we can do, Honerva. We're human." @Chasmfiend#1 @Truthless of Shinovar --- Compile meant what she said. Her nap after meeting Bob hadn't lasted long. She'd gotten up and done some research before stumbling upon Annoying Messengers and Co. They delivered to Alleycity and were surprisingly cheap. The messenger who got Compile's letter had no idea what it contained. He just headed out to the area pointed out to him by the locals. He was fully equipped with protective gear and ways to annoy. The building was imposing. Gargoyle-like statues and weird doves. He supressed a shudder before raising the knocker and letting it fall on the door multiple times. "Message for Miss Crow! Message for Miss Crow!" he yelled. Then he pulled out a tuba and began to play a self-composed piece he called The Dying Drunk Monkey's Ballad louder than one would have thought possible from a tuba. If someone didn't come soon, he'd pull out bigger guns. --- Faint sound from the messenger far above reached the dungeon. Hardly audible to the Wereds who lacked enhanced senses. Golda's eyes flicked all over Crow. From her ratty hair, to the armor, to the ground. Everything besides her freaky purple eyes. And the Shardblade stabbed threateningly into the floor. She let a tremble travel across her. Let all the fear carefully held back by a mental barrier break through. Let the facade of bravery fall away. So when she pointed generally, her hand was too shaky to stay on any one sibling. And no sign of the terror seemed faked. It all looked like her actions were truly that way because of fear. Because it was. @Ark1002

Of course! I'll add you to the PM.

Freedom nodded in agreement. "The sooner the better." She started walking to the door. "You're idiots," Pry said. Freedom turned to look at her sister who was standing with her arms crossed. "Think for just a moment: every intelligent person on this planet is aware that the night is the best time to go looking surreptitiously without being watched. So much so that doing so is no longer an intelligent strategy. Crow is likely to have better guarding and shielding during nighttime hours because she'll expect you then. In addition, assuming it will take you through the night and into the day to figure out which building is Dove Manor, none of you will have slept and to my knowledge, none of you can store Wakefulness. You'll be dead on your feet," Pry explained. "Instead, if you were to sleep for a couple hours and then go, you'd be both more productive and more successful." Of course, Freedom thought. She had to let out her maternal tendencies of over-estimating the amount of sleep necessary. "And leave them in Crow's hands longer?" Freedom asked. "I think not." "Better than you three with them." I wouldn't be with them if Crow captured us. I'd be dead. But she wouldn't tell Pry that. Her sister couldn't handle that just as she couldn't handle the sight of blood. They all had their own weaknesses, some more avoidable than others. Exasperation apparent in her eyes, she posed the question to Tels and Bob. Better to let them choose since it was their prior conflicting statements that led to this. "What do you want to do? "Our cousins are Ferrings, not us," Golda said, surprised Crow didn't already know that. "We're Mistings, actually." She paused, wondering if someone else wanted to take it from there. None of her siblings spoke up. Fine. She'd do it. "The little ones you took elsewhere burn," she considered lying there. A small lie. One to keep Crow on her feet. To call Fog a Seer rather than an Augur. It wouldn't make a big difference, only protect the girl a smidge. No. It wouldn't help and could only hurt, she decided. She spoke before she could change her mind again. "Iron and gold, oldest to youngest, respectively. Viness burns Tin." She pointed to Horizon who was standing next to the eldest. "She burns bendalloy." Her finger drifted to Semb. "Electrum." Over to the next sibling. "Duralumin." Clove. "Pewter." Laurel. "Nicrosil." Fild. "Steel." Silk. "Copper." Tanel. "Zinc." Bened. "Cadmium." Moss. "Chromium and Bronze." Terra and Honeed. "Aluminum." Fauna. Finally there was just her. She brought her bland expressionless gaze to Crow. "And I burn brass. Anything else you'd like?"

I didn't even know that was an option...seems there's always another secret when it comes to notification settings...

A couple fewer than a dozen posts later.

YKYASF when you keep one glove in your locker and only one (why would I need a complete pair?). The Vorin got one thing right with the whole safehand thing: Wearing a glove keeps graphite from smudging as much when I write.

Temporal Flux threw a pie at FT's face.

I can't remember anymore. How sad. @AonEne, you haven't been over here in almost a week. I wouldn't want to deprive you of an opportunity to lose as well!

I don't watch anything that's actually anime, so I'll answer the second. I've never been on a date before. The closest I can compare is my friend and I going together to a party as a joke. She wound up ditching me for some people I don't really like (then, maybe not really ditching per se, rather, intentionally entering a situation where I would be strongly inclined to ditch her), which was a little rude, but there were also other people there that I did like and all was well.

An NPC TUBAist walks by playing a tuba. *cough* pineapples *cough*

Aderet kept crying. Tears streamed from her blue eyes and down her cheeks. She'd chosen not to put on makeup that morning and now was infinitely grateful for that decision. In her pocket lay a folded lilac handkerchief. She took it out and daintily dabbed at her eyes. The handkerchief darkened from the wet, but soon her eyes were dry. She folded it into a square and kept it on hand, knowing she might require it again soon. "What is wrong with you?" Aderet asked, her voice terse yet brittle. "What rusting traumatic experience left you in a state where there isn't an ounce of humility left in you?" Her reddened eyes looked up to his. There was an apparent desperation in them, conveyed in a way that her profanity hadn't quite reached.

No! Why did I scroll down? Why?

Truth?

The Mistborn catches the Radiant's foot. "Didn't anyone ever teach you to keep both of your legs on the ground?

"And I just slammed that door right in her face!" Tanel exclaimed. "Her expression was priceless." "I thought she broke up with you..." Horizon said. "Riz, you should know better than to listen to everything Viness tells you," Tanel said. He tried to keep his voice cheery. The less the younger ones felt that something was wrong, the better, in his mind. "It wasn't Viness," said Moss. "It was Golda." Golda jokingly glared at her little sister. "Way to throw me under the-" She cut off as Crow's footsteps echoed towards them. The others followed suit, remnants of their illusion dissipating. "Stand," Crow ordered. They scrambled to their feet. Golda protectively put an arm around Laurel. The girl shook it off. Golda didn't fight her. The action reminded her of herself. Stubborn as a mule sometimes, never willing to accept help or show any sign of weakness. She stepped up, directly in front of the door, and spoke calmly. Surprisingly, her voice didn't break. "Good evening, Crow." --- "Deleted already," Freedom said, deleting the image. Compile probably had downloaded it and saved copies to a couple of her drives. Freedom didn't think it worth the hastle. "Now, where do you think Dove Manor might be? Any guess is better than none."