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Silva

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Everything posted by Silva

  1. Silva
    Butt Venture decided to start a revolution on their behalf.
  2. Silva
    And reforming it into a farming industry.
  3. Silva
    Someone screamed.
  4. Silva
    His horse, having not wanted to have an ironing board tied to it, had since run off.
  5. Silva
    And those who were already awake.
  6. Silva
    The judge sued the passerby for suing him.
  7. Silva
    But like in many democratic societies, not all chose to exercise their right to vote.
  8. Silva
    Then it melted.
  9. Silva
    His experience, however, was in the field of making balloon animals.
  10. Silva
    If he dropped two, nothing would happen.
  11. Silva
    On the eighth day of every month.
  12. Silva
    The one perk a faint induced by an attempt at a plausible imitation has over its natural counterpart, despite being infinitely more humiliating, is that it’s lighter. Aderet’s brief lapse of consciousness comes swiftly to an end with the noise of the pandemonium. She doesn’t move when she comes to, only assumes everything has gone horribly wrong. Typical. She should have known he’d fail to see that there was still clearly a way to avoid violence, even if it came paired with higher risk for him--exactly why she'd tried for it. Aderet cracks an eye open just slightly to get a sense of the situation. It’s dark and, judging that all attention is off of her due to the commotion, she reluctantly leaves her heels behind to lessen the noise of her footsteps and scampers farther away from the action, towards the stage. The thought of being near a corpse hardly appeals, particularly after what happened less than a minute prior, but she knows it’s the last place she’d be expected. Besides, unless she’s mistaken--highly probable given the way she avoids them--, venues like this tend to have a landline phone tucked somewhere in the back and it’s about time someone called the authorities.
  13. Silva
    He cuts right through her facade of a plan and she feels exposed in the face of his harsh tone. Self-preservation first, she decides. No one blames a damsel in distress for cooperating, especially not after she’s tried for an alternative. “That sounds agreeable enough,” she says. Her voice remains even, no matter how sullen her insides. The last question doesn’t receive a response. Answering rhetorical questions serves no purpose, Aderet believes, only makes one seem slower to understand. A touch of her handkerchief leaves her fingers wet and the four letter monogram embroidered on it, “ACBA”, faces away from her for but a second as she dabs the damp fabric at her already-red eyes to give the impression of more recent, fresh tears in preparation. She silently thanks her governess for insisting that every lady must excel in the art of intentional crying among other things, then, without giving him a moment to react, clambers over to the side nearest the stage. As she lifts her hand to move aside the tablecloth, the words she spoke minutes before, filled with stubborn pride, echo back to her, unbidden. I don’t aid murderers for pocket change. If she won’t do so for pocket change, why in Harmony’s name would she do so for a vague explanation, worth even less? Is she truly such an archetypical damsel distress? She tucks her vial back away into its pouch for protection and recalls another drilled lesson from her governess. Turned as she is, a loose lock of blonde hair conceals her suppressed smile from sight. Aderet lifts up the tablecloth, eyes widening innocently. “Sir?” she calls weakly in the direction of the nearest bouncer. “My b-brother and I—” A sob cuts off the end of the sentence and new tears begin to stream down her face while she crawls the rest of the way out, a disheveled mess, and gestures at the table she emerged from. As though finally taking in the scene, her eyes sweep past the bouncer and lock on the corpse on the stage. On the blood. She freezes And while she hates to give evidence, especially false evidence, to those who would argue that a woman’s disposition makes her more prone to such things at such sights, she judges the situation as being one of necessity and, embodying the archetypical damsel in distress, faints.
  14. Silva
    Having not anticipated him to actually believe her, despite not lacing her bluff with anything but the truth, Aderet hesitates just a moment to consider before responding, keeping their gazes locked all the while. “That.” She gestures to the object. The device appears to her as being in possession of violent capabilities, judging by the way the glow had built and then subsided, and having it out of his hands could only be for the better. “As well as an assurance that you won’t later come after me.” Her eyes briefly slide towards the far end of the tablecloth, as though the corpse may somehow be seen through the translucent fabric, then back to him. ”And an explanation of what wrong that...that man did to you to deserve that." The last part slips out almost unintentionally. The sounds of footsteps seem to be nearing, though she knows that still comes with no guarantee of rescue. She adjusts her grip on the vial. And waits.
  15. Silva
    She’s already run several not so pleasant ways this encounter might end through her head by the time he notices her and implies that her silence might be bought. Pride, though, edges the slightest bit above fear for a moment and Aderet regards the coin coolly, blue eyes flicking just briefly to the odd object in his other hand. At the same time, her left hand shifts through the contents of her safepouch and grasps a small vial of cadmium flakes. She hardly ever consumes any, yet never feels safe leaving home without. Her internal reserves currently stand empty, dashing a handful of wild fantasies of using Allomancy to slow time until the bouncers find them. She doubts she could swallow any without him having ample opportunity to stop her. Ordinary means will have to suffice unless things change drastically. Aderet retrieves a vial anyways, transferring it to her free, right hand, while she pins her gaze on him. “But you are here,” she says with the slightest tremor to her voice. Almost imperceptible. “And I don’t aid murderers for pocket change.” She intentionally leaves in the implication, despite having no desire to do so for any price. Aderet understands how precarious the present situation is, pragmatism now prevailing over her pride, and aims to keep open avenues of self-preservation. “Furthermore, before you waste precious time considering it--no, killing me to ensure silence won’t do you much good, either. It’ll only make it harder for you in the long run. Much harder,” she says quietly, but firmly. “So, I suggest you cooperate and maybe you’ll get out of here intact.”
  16. Silva
    Come to dinner with me. I’m not like the others. You’ll have a nice time. I like you for you; the fact that you're the heiress to an incredily prosperous company has absolutely nothing to do with it. Aderet scowled. They all said that. And then, at ten minutes in on the dot, smiled at her with false naivete and promptly asked her how much of the company she was set to inherit. Like that had any relevance to their romantic prospects. She’d really tried this time, but this one had particular guts. Kept asking about her wealth even when she brushed away the question with a girlish smile and her patented ditzy laugh. He thought persistence would get him his answers. It wouldn't and it hadn’t. It had just made her fed up. She’d gotten up from the table just as the waiter came by with their orders. She’d felt his hard gaze on her back as she’d walked out of the place. As though he were recalculating his initial impression of Aderet Celeste Blanche Addington and not liking what he found. Not up for heading home quite yet, she’d wandered the dark streets, trying to calm herself. In hindsight, it had been a terrible idea. She should have known better. Some local hooligans spotted the lone aristocrat and, to get away from them, she’d ducked into this sleazy venue to hide among the crowd. She’d settled into a table in the far corner, still relatively near the door, and begun to cry about her lousy evening. A few hours later, when her embroidered handkerchief can hardly hold another tear, a man jumps on stage to give some warning she hardly hears only to get murdered in front of her eyes and Aderet’s night has been damaged beyond repair. She knows it. She also knows that in moments she’ll be overrun by the other patrons of the establishment in their efforts to escape. So she does what every good aristocrat is trained to do in such situations. Aderet hides. She ducks under her table, wincing as her dress brushes against the sticky floor, and places herself out of the way and out of sight, content to let the others stampede. There, she takes a few moments to let herself process what in Ruin’s name just happened.
  17. Silva
    chimpanzees that were trained in the noble and most respected art of finger painting.
  18. Silva
    Adonalsium reassembled, though some parts were in the wrong places.
  19. Silva
    The nearby frogs fled.
  20. Silva
    poodles were the latest overlords of Earth.
  21. Silva
    You frown, uncertain at how you feel about being controlled by various different authors.
  22. Silva

    ...totally did not forget it was my Shardiversary till just now...*yawns*...

    Um...

    So...

    It's been another year.

    I've been here three years. Th-three years. I remember times early on when I saw even being here a year as crazily far away. Well, now I've done 3 * (crazily far away).

    That sums up this year fairly well. I...haven't been around here nearly as much. Crazily far away most of the time. Took on a lot irl and then some. It's been insane, stressful, and overall wonderful. I can't promise to be around any more next year--if anything I will have new joys to add to the mix.

    But, that said, you guys deserve to know that when I do stop by, my bad days turn good, slogging thoughts become quicker, negative mindsets gain a spark, droughts of creativity become flooded.

    Thank you for that.

    Thank you for these three years and, preemptively, thank you for the future. Thank you all for existing. For creating the warmest corner of the internet. For being here and being yourselves.

    I'll leave it at that. Thank you and goodnight. ^_^

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Channelknight Fadran

      Channelknight Fadran

      ...how many peoples' Shardiversaries are there today?

      Happy Shardiversary regardless! Woop!

    3. The Awakened Salad

      The Awakened Salad

      Happy Shardiversary!

    4. Doomstick

      Doomstick

      Happy Spike Day, Miss Forest!

  23. Silva
    The breadmunk did not appreciate the treatment and decided to riot.
  24. Silva
    Confusion ensued.
  25. Silva
    Yet. He was not dead yet.
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