Sorana
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Everything posted by Sorana
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Althea watched Corette jump down into the well and took a few steps forward, looked around the cave. There were little holes all over the place, scattered on the walls, high enough that you could only reach them with difficulty. She noticed them and looked away again, was about to head over to the water, when she noticed the little Kalea. It had lifted it's head, smelled the air curiously, pressed to one side of it's cage. Something was here, something it knew, it recognized. She looked around again, her eyes returning to the little holes and she remembered the spren. The spren that had shown the future. A possible future. With a flicker of her fingers she sent Brashen up to take a closer look at the holes and her spren oblieged, while she mentally wrote a list who she should contact. Max. He could help should this lead to a war. He could put a stop to this right here and now. Zokora. She could deal with the official stuff, keep an eye on those above. Brashen returned and gave a curt nod, confirming her suspicions, although she would have to talk to him to be sure. Still, to be wrong, it was unlikely. Max. She reached out for him. Do you keep an eye on the other guilds? Will you know should they ready their armies? I think we found something that has the potential to cause a conflict of some sorts. She was about to speak when she noticed the girl, Wes walk over to them offering her Wes a canteen. She kept a solemn expression, but Althea wasn't sure wether to believe it. She had sorted the girl to those to keep an eye upon, she seemed to be perceptive and quiet. Probably dangerous. For now she kept quiet, only answered Wes fleeting gaze with one of her own. If the girl decided to pick a fight, so be it, although hopefully she could be diverted. They should deal with the contents of the cave first.
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"Here's your wine, sir." The bartender adresses you and you turn around, the motion deliberatetly slow. You reach out to take the bottle and disgusted at the grime covering it, you lower your hand. "Clean it first." You state, and add. "I will pay for it. But scrub it clean." That it's so difficult to get a decent amount of wine. Usually, if you have the money, you can get some good stuff. And money never was a problem of yours. You feel some eyes on your body and look around, ignore the loud one calling for alcohol with a threat in tow. Alcoholics are everywhere and you don't intend to waste your time with one. Not if they don't have any style at all. Instead you rest your eyes on the other man. The allomancer. He is still looking at his empty glass, but his body is alert. He is observing, maybe even yourself. "I greet you, sir." You say and smile your friendliest smile. "Would you care for another drink?"
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Althea followed his gaze to the other Wes, but otherwise didn't react at all. Whatever Wes was reacting to, she doubted that it was Myriad's death. She couldn't tell the Underling the truth now, so she only inclined her head in agreement. "It seems like she does." She replied vaguely, not quite confirming his words, but unwilling to leave him without any kind of reply. "Those that are here, I doubt many of them will care if something happens to the others." And with the DA present, it wasn't surprising. "We can take her body with us later on and make sue will be burried properly." She suggested, although she expected ACE to take care of these things. They still hadn't found the bodies of the previous expedition, and she wasn't sure if they would find them later on. Between the predators and whoever it was who had killed Myriad, the chance that there were bodies to find was existing, but small. "I've found that many people don't care about those they don't know." While her face didn't change, her voice did, it dropped a little, hinted at sadness behind her words. The worlds would be a different place if people looked past their own needs, but she'd realized that only few did it. Most of thost that claimed to work towards some kind of greater good, did it only to fullfil some kind of need of themselves. Not that she blamed them, she was far from a saint herself.
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Ophelia waved at the three boys. "Hello. I'm Ophelia." She told them and smiled. "I'm a gorgeous Colour Card player." She tried to impress them and made sure she was standing close to Aoryen. She had never played before, but it couldn't be that hard. Her mother hadn't liked her playing and next to all the work she hadn't had the time anyway. So she made sure she was smiling, and looking self-confident to leave a good first impression. The first impression was, what decided on how people treated you. And she wanted to be treated with respect.
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Wita took the blank bone and squeezed some blood on the bone. She made sure to cover it completely, and then smeared it around a little, until it was spread evenly. His comment about the costs made sense. Ivory was expensive. "And animal bones are easy to get." She agreed and handed the seal back to him. "What will you do with it now?" She asked curiously and smiled happily at him.
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"But wood was alive as well." Wita replied, slighty confused by the distinction. Trees lived, but wood didn't work as well. For considered the thought another moment, then her face brightened. "But the bone was covered by blood and trees don't bleed." She stated slowly and then looked up at him "What about ivory? Did you try that one out? Or the carpace of an insect? Like the plates they use to protect their boedies? What about them?" Curiously she followed his glance to her cut finger and nodded eagerly. "Of course! What do I have to do?"
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I'd like to join as well.
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^same here Well, we can always try and tag some people. @Lord Furret @Rushu42 @xinoehp512 Do you want to vote as well? It would be great to get some other opinions
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Shepared groaned, as if in physical pain. A dancer, obviously a woman. The girlfriend most likely. And with that stupid light. "Could, you please turn the light off, miss! He called out, one hand nervously reaching for a weapon. "And please turn off the music. I hereby officially tell you, that your neighbours complained and that you might be required to pay a fee. I you turn the music off now and remain quiet for the rest of the night, we can probably leave it without a fee. Could you please identify yourself and stop dancing and lift your hands." He grimaced a little when he realized that his order was wrong, while he hoped that the woman would adhere to his words. He really didn't want to take her with him but if went on like that, he had no other choice. Wita took the seal, gently brushed her finger over the soft surface. Animal bone. She was grateful that he wasn't using human bone, the question where he got that from awkward. "Why does bone work best?" She asked him and leaned over looked at the scalpel. She drew a finger slong the blade and winced when she cut herself, remembered too late that scalpels were sharp. Which was the main reason why he used it probably. Awkwardly she pressed her finger against the palm of her hand, hoped he wouldn't think of her as too stupid.
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Lena shook her head. "Let's talk to the science teacher. Maybe we can convince one of them to show us how to use a fabrial. One of us follows them to where the store them, if they don't want for one of us to come along." "At least that's the best I can come up with." She looked at the blueprints again, at the tiny inscriptions in the different rooms. She spoke quietly, made sure nobody but the other three could hear her, covering the movement of her mouth by lifted the blueprint a little. "I doubt that they depicted their vaults on the map, so we might be able to get some clues as to where they are located by analyzing them more thoroughly." Although analyzing was boring. "We might be quicker to ask. They are so careless, if we come up with some heartwarming story, we might easily get what we need. And then we empty one of their vaults - something has to be there, he mentioned that they sometimes show their children how to deal with a fabrial. So they have to have some. And a fabrial alone is valuable enough to last us a time in the poorer parts."
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Shana woke early in the morning and quietly stole herself out of Ben's room. No use waking him, before it was neccessary. As every morning she headed to her room and fetch her yoga mat, then started her day with half an hour of doing nothing but moving through the different asanas, and finished her routine with a couple of nice stretches. She felt better afterwards, awake, although the short night had left a stale taste in her mouth. She headed to the bathroom, showered again and then stared at herself in the mirror, wondered if those in her class might see what had happened last night. The amount of people she'd killed yesterday. She wondered if they knew, that she had been in hospital, sometimes news travelled fast, and there was no way nobody had written an article of some sorts about the abduction or whatever the police had agreed upon. If they knew, they would ask questions, questions she couldn't answer. Closing her eyes for a moment, she opened them again and then pulled her hair back and dressed. Walking downstairs she headed into the kitchen and found a couple of others already up and awake. "Good morning." She greeted them and looked for a bowl and a spoon. "Nobody has an idea how to elegantly skipped the whole day?" She asked, tried to keep her tone light to cover up on the fact, that she hated going to school. At least she had some training later on.
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Althea gave a slight shrug. "As long as she is here and not inside there- " she replied and then turned, continued after the main group. They hadn't even stopped, which wasn'T a real surprise either and it only showed her, that if she didn't keep an eye on the Underling, nobod would. Whatever had happened in there, she wouldn't find out while staring at a covered body. "We shouldn't stay too far behind." She voiced her thoughts. "I'd prefer to not be attacked by whatever is inside there while everybody else is somewhere far ahead." In front of them, the next Cavern waited, the Well, if she remembered correctly. Althea idly wondered where that name came from, while at the same time she suspected that it might be dangerous. Well... as long as it wasn't political. She wasn't really in the mood for careful political treading.
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She watched him leave, felt strangely empty. The testing. Of course. He had to maintain his face, and it was important for him. It was his life. Sagitta remained where she was, stared at the bag conceiling the corpse on the floor, at the gods standing around it. Tion had rejoined them, Tion. She couldn't recall who they were, what they represented, but she didn't particularly care. Price words haunted her, that the gods didn't care about them, that they were indifferent towards their struggles. No, they had destroyed the peace, the friendship they had formed. They had ripped the bond between the three of them apart and while she still wished that she had the time to talk things through with Price, to sort that part out, she knew that it wasn't the right moment. She slowly followed him, but kept back, couldn't bring herself to walk back to them, to face the gods. She wanted to ask why, why they wished for them to destroy themselves, why they didn't care about the war, why they wanted to keep it going, but she couldn't. If she did, they would erase her memories again, and this time, maybe there was no Price to speak the truth. Feeling sick and weak she sat down on a nearby stool, her had clutching the crutch way to hard. It was stupid to react like that, she was a grown woman, she was supposed to be strong, to be able to handle this. But the only thing she saw, was her mother's face while she told her the story about the sky, how the stars came into existence. A lie. How her mother had tought her rituals to please the gods, more lies. Everything she did, everything she lived was a lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Nothing but lies, nothing but money the invested into nothing, because those it was directed at, didn't care. They didn't tr yto protect thouse fighting in their names, they didn't try to keep them save. That she was alive, was nothing but pure luck, Intensity had never cared about her at all. And maybe even worse. Sensation. If Price was right, then there had been no hero uniting them all. There had been no brave man to face down those opposing him, Sensation at his side. All of it was a lie.
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"Sure." Ophelia replied, without really thinking about the question. She felt uncomfortable, drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She stood out, and the way people looked her way made her wish she knew how to blend in. She was herself, and she knew that she looked the way, but somehow she looked wrong. Her dress, while worn for several days was of a better quality and while she loved the soft fabric, the way if felt on her skin - her mother had bought it for her birthday a year ago, she suddenly wished, that she had something else to wear as well. Something that didn't make her stand out that much. Only then his words registered and she gave a small laugh to cover her embarressment. "I never gambled before. But I will try it out. It can't be that hard."
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You continue to write into your little notebook, the words flowing easily from your pen. The flickering light of the candle makes it hard to read, so that you squeeze your eyes together a little, but still you continue to carefully note down what happened today and how you think your experiment failed. The blood had been compatible, and you had adjusted some of the bone until they fit. The veins, they were a weak spot, the heart used to stronger ones - probably some of them gave up. You'd have to check later to proove yourself right or wrong. Now and then you take a sip of your wine, and despite the food you ate earlier, you notice yourself turning a little lightheaded. Not much, just enough to be pleasant. After a while you look up, when you notice something in the bar change and when you scan the faces, you notice a man. He is sitting at the bar, dumping something into his own drink. At first it seems strange, in general you prefer to dump things into other peoples drinks to knock them out, but then you realize what he's doing. He obviously isn't afraid and the dark things he downs together with his drink - most likely metal of some sorts. For a moment you wait to see if he starts causing trouble, but instead he simply drinks another glass and so you refocus on your notes again. Still you move your stool a little, so that you can keep an eye on him. Mirrorring his gesture you dump metal into your wine and then swallow, the familiar ressource in your chest giving of a warm and comfortable feeling. Let him be an allomancer. You can deal with that easily, at least if you are close enough. The last part usually is the difficult one, but with a charming smile and a free drink, usually people in a bar enjoy a drink. Your pen scrapes over the paper again, when you try to remember what had happened and curse yourself for running out of wine. If you'd written that back down in the cellar, it would have been so much easier, but a report without a glass of wine is as an outfit without shoes. Incomplete and boring. You need to remember to bring a bottle along, so that next time you can check some of your theories directly, instead of writing them down. The bard starts another, annoying song and you look up, close your book with a sharp shound. No use to go on here. Not as long as the guy misses more notes than he is able to sing clearly. With a deliberate motion you rise and when no serving girl looks over, you take your glass and head over to the bar. "Do you also sell bottles?" You ask the barkeeper, without bothering to wait until he looks your direction. Your tone and the way you hold yourself make him do that quickly enough. He lifts his hands, stutteres something about asking and you turn around, lean against the bar, glass still in your hand. You know that you cut a striking figure, make sure that your feet are placed in a way to show of your long legs and slim, but firm thigs, leading to a more muscular upperbody and a beautiful set of shoulders. Everything is perfected from the way you casually lean against the bar, to the way you lift your glass to your lips again. You know that you draw eyes, of both men and women alike and it causes a smile to play around your lips. It's always nice to see when work is appreciated.
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May I ask why youcreate a bio if he's no PC? And if he is, then yes, a complete bio would be better. If you can't post it, feel free to send a pm
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Ophelia hurried towards the ststue, had taken a moment to relieve herself. She'd brushed her hair and braided it in an easy, but elaborate way. It was nice to look like herself again. Ana and Aoryen were already waited and she hurried up, ran over. "I'm sorry." She said a little out of breath. "I had to - do girl things." She quickly explained not wanting to go into details in front of a man. "Do we have a plan? What can I do to help?"
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Jessy nodded and waited for John's reply.
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Althea suppred a groan at the sight of Myriad. She had run ahead, but still. She would have prefered if they all made it out alive. Wes moved closer as she inhaled, stormlight like a tempest in her veins. Mentally she reached out for him, wrapped her mind around his body to make sure she could get him out of the way should the need arise. Most of the group continued on their way, left Myriad's body where she was. Wordlessly she elsecalled the corpse to the ground and then soulcast some air into a piece of cloth and covered it carefully. It felt respectless to leave her hanging like that. The message indicated a thinking, intelligent enemy and she turned to Wes. "Can you remember the name of the person Myriad went ahead with? Did you see them again?" She asked him calmly, somehow hoping that they made it out alive. Corette and Karin were already heading on, to stage a rescue operation with only the two of them - dangerous but possible.
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The gods didn't care. Sagitta opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. The feeling was strangely familiar, as if she had experienced it before and she touched her head, wished that she could remember. There was something and she tried, groped for a memory, but failed. It was as if she was standing in front of a wall and couldn't break through. She stepped closer to Price, gently touched his arm unable to form a coherent sentence. So many had died, so many had died for nothing. They fought for a country and in the end, nothing. What use was it to fight for the memory of gods who didn't care. It was about them caring, listening. And Price had wanted to protect her, had tried to spar her the disappointment. "I'm sorry." She said quietly, her voice shaking. She shook her head, tried to comprehend. They didn't care. They didn't listen. All the blood, the prayers, all of it for nothing. Her thoughts spun in an endless circle, turning and turning, until she felt like she was about to fall down. She understood why they had held hands, why he hadn't let go of hers. He'd cared. Cared so much. "I'll stay." She added, looked over to Gati. They didn't care. She knew, she didn't even understand it yet, hand't processed it. "Thank you." The words sounded empty, when she tried to follow, to ingest. But Price was here. And he looked as bad, as she felt. Sagitta continued to look at him, suddenly wished that she hadn't pressed the matter.
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She was quiet for a while, considered his words. Happy and know a lie, or miserable and know the truth. Such an easy question and yet so complicated. If she accepted that he knew, that he could judge what was good for her, then she could go on, as she had so far. Or she asked him to tell her, maybe that would repair what was broken. "You've been acting strange ever sinvce we met Gati and Tion." She said quietly. "This thing you don't want to talk about - it's the reason." She moved a hand through her hair. "Price, I," how to tell him, "I like you, I trusted you. But now it's like you're standing on one side of a rift and I on the other. I, I have no idea why you act how you add and I wish that we were back to earlier." That you are again the person that held my hand for whatever reason it was. "Tell me." If only to try to repair all of this. She could handle it. She was strong.
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Sagitta took a deep breath, sensed the honesty, the desperation behind his words and then she nodded. "It's about the sense behind a contract." she started, tried to explain. "You agreed that I won't be harmed, body or mind, and yet you offered my memories." She swallowed. "Price it's memories. I would rather loose an arm, than a gift from the gods. Without Sensation we would be nothing, to give a way such a present with a wave of your hand and for another person..." She trailed off, tried to focus. "What would you have done had Gati agreed? If he had tried to take my memories? Would have tried to stop him, tried to keep me from harm?" Her face was earnest. "A contract is more than a set of words, it's an agreement. And while you wouldn't have harmed me yourself, you accepted harm to myself while a testing you conducted with me present. It's a difference, yes, but if we take a look at the sense behind our agreement, then it's the same." Slowly she registered his other words. The gods. Gati was a god. "Why would I be happier if I forgot?" She asked, dread reaching out for heart. The gods were real, of course they were. Everybody knew it. If Gati was a god, then, why? And why was he convinced that she would be happier without this knowledge? "What did I forget?" She clarified her question, felt as if standing on shaking ground, ready to split open to swallow her whole.
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Shana nodded, smiled at this joke. "That's good. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." She replied honestly and pushed all thoughts of Ashlyn aside. Maybe it didn't mean that she would have to loose him. Maybe it only meant sharing. And she could deal with sharing. Her hands brushed over each other, the skin raw and tense, and she sighed. "What a mess. Sometimes I wish things were easier, and that I can be a normal fifteen year-old girl with nothing to worry about but her boyfriend. And then I think, that it would be boring." Tell him again that she was sorry about his dreams? No. He knew and there was nothing she could do to change it anyway. It had happened. That she hadn't intended to, was a different matter. "I should go." She said quietly. "It's late and school won't wait for these things."
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@ZincAboutIt @I think I am here. @AonEne @kenod @Ookla the Wine Shelf @Rushu42 @Ark1002 ==================== Your pen scratches over the paper, while you write notes, your face drawn in concentration. Blonde, long hair is carefully braided back to keep out of your way and your polished nails gleam in the light of a nearby candle. Around you, travelers sit on the crude tables, drinking beer, wine or whateverelse they ordered, you don't care particularly. Ever since rumors spread that a city will be built in Sanctuary's place, people flock to this place and like everywhere the tavern is loud and crowded. You know that each of them have reasons, but again you don't really care. What you about is that they are here, and that many of them travel alone. Nobody notices when someone goes missing now and then, which suits you just fine. When you rented your room the tavern was a quiet place, but now that the evening progresses, you are growing annoyed. You are trying to work here, not drink yourself into oblivion. When a bard stands up and starts playing music, you finally lift your head and look around. Not everybody is drinking heavily, actually only a few are. Those that have given up, or those that simply like to. Who knows. A serving girl walks over, her blouse carefully close high on her chest to ward off any ideas on your part and with a slight bow places a glas of deep, dark red vine in front of you. Habit has you pick it up and lift the glas, a frown creasing your forehead. "There is a spot." your voice is cool, and soft, when you hand the glass back, not even bothering to look at the girl's face. You sense from her movements that she checks as well, then she hesitates, probably considers to had the glass back to you. Lucky her, she doesn't. Instead she briskly turns around and walks away. You lean back, continue to observe the room and try to decide who is the lucky one today. You need a man, tall, well-built. He should fit nicely to the other parts you have selected and prepared. Your eyes rest on someone and a smile touches your lips. He looks good. A little dirty, but all of them are dirty. Nothing a little water and some soap, can't solve. Accepting the next glas of wine you pay, and then take a careful sip. As usual it's a little too sour, but you take what you get. Sipping your wine you lean back, wait for the man to leave.
