Sorana

Wita followed him deeper inside, sat down in the front room and waited for him to prepare their tea. It was a relief to get off her feet and sit down for a little while. The young man was nice, although she feared that he might be a little too tense. Maybe he had lived in danger too long, or maybe it was a consequence of the attack. "Yes, please." she smiled gratefully at him. "It smells delicious." She had expected them to have some tea, but to get a good cup of tea was a lot more than she had wished for. Smiling at him she took the cup and set it down in front of her. "Tell me a little about yourself." She asked and lifted the cup to her face, inhaling deeply. Even better than she had thought.

Wita gratefully inclined her head and walked past him, stepping inside of the house. Several pair of shoes were standing next to the door, as well as a bunch of jackets, different styles and sizes. There had to be a lot of people living here, younger ones judging by their awful sense of style. "Thank you, James." She stepped to the side, made sure she didn't intrude too far. This was their place and she disliked to disrespect the privacy of others. Everybody had borders and she hated it when strangers ignored hers. "I'm a Feruchemist." She told him with a warm smile, not mentioning what she had learned from Marcel. Somehow she doubted that he would like the idea of magical seals fueld by blood. Glancing down at her wrist she checked her watch and nodded more to herself. One thing after the other. Give him a chance to ask some questions first, then she could try to figure out how to help and who they were in the first place. "Why don't we discuss the rest over a nice cup of tea? Can't let tea time pass without one, can we?"

Mike hesitated. "I am not quite sure where to go." he finally admitted quietly and considered the various. "Although there is a market." A black market, located near the Harbour. Maybe they could go there. It was a dangerous place, full of thugs. Usually he avoided it, only went there when he needed to sell something none of his usual brokers would buy, but for spikes - it was the best place to go. "There is a market." he stated, following the urge to let them know what they were walking into. "But it's no save place." And he wasn't entirely sure if he would be able to find it either. Especially not with a detective at his side, but then he was a private investigator, no one belonging to the police. "It might be especially dangerous, if they know who you work for." he turned to the detective. Taking a step towards the door, he swayed a little on his feet, when a wave of nauseau hit. He needed to leave, needed to get going. And grab something to eat on the way as well. "It's your call. But if I can get what I need, that's the best place I can think of."

Hello and welcome to the Alleyverse! Your character works well, I'll add her to the list! Characters without Investiture are rare, but I found that they make for an awesome addition to the rp. Have a lot of fun!

Doc. So the man's name was Doc. Wita gently reached out for the bracelet, tapped a little, closed her eyes and then opened again. His voice had gone cold, as had his eyes, but his body, the way he reached into his pocket spoke of a defensive reaction not an offensive one. The lawn wasn't immaculate, the grass torn in places, a few dark spots in between as if a part of it had been burnt away. They had fought and not too long ago. The house was in good shape. Whoever, whatever had attacked them hadn't been able to breach their defenses. He wouldn't discuss this with her, his voice was too firm, his stance too tight. She stopped tapping and sighed. "What harm do you think an old woman like me could do?" she inquired gently. "There is no need to worry young man, I don't plan to harm you, or yours. In contrast, I am here to help you. I travelled as quickly as I could once I heard of the attack." Because it was her fault. Her mistake that this creature ran free. If they had been able to stop them earlier, if they had been quicker in their decision making - but they hadn't and over the years she'd come to the conclusion that there hadn't been enough clues, that there had been no way for them to stop the process after the ritual had been started. But then, you never knew. Fact was, they had failed and if she could do something, bring her skills to good use, then she would. ============= @AonEne

The poll is still open and I think at the moment it's very close. I think it would be perfectly fine to run both plots, as there are enough people interested in the two of them. So if you're still up to leading the DA one a little forward, then feel free to do so

Whirling around Mike focused on the detective. He was a detective, wasn't he? St least he belonged to the agency. "Why do you want to know?" He asked suspiciously, looking back to the other one. They obviously knew each other. It had to be obvious that he wasn't rich, that there was no money to steal from him, why did they want to know. Moving a step back he wondered if it had been a good idea to stay after they had addressed him. "Actually I think, that the chances to aquire these things is higher at night." He shook his head at the idea to wait. There was no time to wait, if he dwindled around he would loose precious time. He needed to get them and the sooner the later.

"I am called Wita Moreau." she smiled at the young boy who'd stopped short at the sight of her. Pushing against her walking stick she tried to stand up a little straighter despite the pain in her back, looked at him calmly. She had surprised him, and he had stopped himself from spilling any secrets, obviously changing what he had been about to say. Looking him up and down she smiled at him politely. His clothing was in order and he obviously was used to greet strangers at the door, welcoming them. She suppressed the urge to brush her fingertips over her bracelet, the new one she had bought after leaving her old one with Lewis. It had been neccessary to make a break and to go on. "Who is in charge of this-" she paused, unwilling to reveal how much she knew about them, about the whole situation in general. "place." she finished, choosing a more or less neutral word. That was better than to reveal her hand to early. "Are they available to speak to me?"

======= The dark ball changed a little, started to split up into different beams, growing lighter and lighter. Wita stared, watched in fear as whatever happened continued and she whirled around, stared at Lewis. "There is nothing you can do, to stop me." the man laughed again, stepped forward into the ball, his shape changing, as if defusing. With a scream Wita ran forward, unable to come up with an alternative or any kind of plan at all. She only knew that she had to do something, that she had to act. Whatever they were trying to do, it was - She rushed forward, her body hitting the man, but he was heavy, a lot heavier than she was and while he staggered a few steps forward, she mostly didn't move him at all. Instead he grabber her shirt and flung her to the side as if she were nothing but a toy. And above him the grey beam grew brighter and brighter, splitting up even more. Pain shot through her back when she hit a wall and fell to the ground, her eyes drawn to the light above him. There was something, a shadow hiding behind the light, something coming closer. Terror filled her limbs at the sight, a terror she couldn't explain, she couldn't name. A terror she couldn't even grasp. The sight of the shadow alone was enough to make her skin go cold and her heart nearly stop beating. "Watch out!" she yelled at Lewis, pointed at the thing, wished for her bracelet, wished to be able to escape the fear, to flee into the slow sluggish thoughts that were her home. But her bracelet wasn't here, it was with Lewis. His ring for her bracelet. No changes, no storing. Nothing but the plain truth of the terror making her limbs go limp and stiff at the same time, of the sight of the thing inside the light.

Spikes in the eyes? The thought alone made his skin crawl. The eyes. They weren't that important, as long as he could smell the eyes were more a secondary sense, but to be completely blind - to be crippled, it would make him prey. His posture shifted a little became more guarded and he looked the other one over. He was no prey. Only the weak became prey and he wasn't prey. He was the one leading, the one standing in front, the one protecting. Not the one in need of protection. "No, not the eyes." he explained calmly, surprised by his own calm "and while I'm not sure who or what an Inquisitor is, if their nails are long enough to pierce their heads, they sound as if they should be long enough." lifting his hands he showed how long he needed the spikes to be. Long enough to go through his chest easily. The smile returned to his face. "So yes, probably something like that." "Do you per chance know where I might be able to buy them?" Or steal them, he didn't care. As long as he got them, as long as he ended up with them in his hands, so that he could use them, could finally, finally close the gap and stop being so confused. He would remember, he was sure. Once he had them, once everything was back the way it was supposed to be he would be alright. ==========

Hesitating Mike looked at them. Somehow it felt as if he had been in that place before, earlier when he had still looked for - the thought fled and he shrugged it away. It wasn't important anymore. The oppotunity was gone, lost, had been ripped away by chance, by something he hadn't - he didn't even know why. "I am looking for-" spikes. He paused, eyed them again. No, he couldn't talk about spikes. "nails." he said instead. "Long nails. I need to hold something in place. I need to replace something, make something whole again." It was true, or at least as true as he could get, he didn't know, didn't understand. "If you could help me," he face changed a little, turned friendlier, a charming smile touching his lips, "I would be incredibly grateful." His tongue touched the air again despite the fact that he gained nothing by the gesture. And yet it felt good, familiar. As if it was something he had done before, something he knew would help him in some way or the other. "I need seven of them, maybe as long as my hand, or a little longer?" @A Windrunner @AmazingGoob

So the Voidbringer had spoken the truth. Cold flooded her and for a moment she did nothing apart from standing there, staring at the letter Rob had placed on the desk. Purge. The word alone said anything, told her everything she needed to know. Unconciously she balled her hands to fists while her thoughts turned in circles around the letter around the fact that it all was fake, that she had believed in lies, that she had been brought up with lies. Throwing her hair back in an angry gesture she stepped next to Rob and reached out for the next envelope, ripping it to pieces to get to the letter it hid. A bill for a bike? Whatever, she put it aside and reached for the next one, the movement sharp and furious. "That one." Greetings to you, Doctor. I know we haven't met so far, but we live in dark times and I hope that you, or those living in your enclave can help us. We had a few fierce battles with a group of Voidbringers hiding in Manhatten before we managed to destroy their hideout and their ressources. You might have heard of some road works going on, and of a few accidents that happened in said road works. As you might guess there were no road works, that was us, or rather the way we covered up the damage of the battles. In short we lost too many, are weak now, vulnerable to an attack. I heard that you lead an enclave full of young Radiants and I wanted to ask if some of them might finish their training soon? If yes, I would be grateful if you could convince a few of them to consider to move to us. We can organize good jobs and apartments. What we need most are a few front line people, but everybody is welcome. I know I ask a lot and if you prefer to take a look, to get to know us first then feel free to reach out to me, a meeting can be arranged most certainly. I hope you write back with positive news soon. - Hannah She offered it to Rob and grit her teeth in frustration. "I wonder how strongly he was involved in all of this. She mentions not knowing him, so maybe, maybe he's different?" hope shone through her words, hope that Doc was no part in all of this. They probably wouldn't know unless they asked him directly. Broadview. Leaving the letters alone, mostly because she was scared what she would find next, she headed over to the cabinet where she had seen a map of Seattle. Spreading it on the table next to the letters, partially covering those that weren't relevant right now she took a look at it. They had no adress, but if they managed to draw their attention, they would most likely reach out to them, contact them. It wasn't the best plan she'd ever come up with, but it was what she had. Looking at the map she tried to familiarize herself with the layout of the streets, with important points they could use. ================== Her stick touched the ground with a sharp, hard clicking sound whenever she took a step. Her steps were slow, her face wrinkeled, her white hair braided back into a thin white line reaching her back. Unhurriedly she took her time to look around, smiling at whoever she passed. She wore a long dark skirt, its rim showing signs of long wear and a shawl covered her shoulders over the grey blouse. Her bag, too, was made of a dark fabric, leaving the only bright spot a ring she wore around her neck. The woman neared the house after a look at its number, again taking her time to look up, take in its height and the windows. Lifting a hand she knocked surprisingly strong, for someone as old as she appeared to be, the sound echoing through the house behind. @Wyndlerunner

Looking up Mike tilted his head to the side, opened his mouth a little, his tongue brushing over his lips. The air was cool on his tongue and for a moment he expected to smell something, to gain some information from the gesture. But of course he didn't. There was no reason why he should. "Oh, yes." he nodded hastily. "I'm Mike." his eyes darted over to the man. He knew him, had met him earlier. He was the one who had wanted to help him find Xaver, but they hadn't. "Yes, of course, I am alright." Again he lifted his hands, as if the gesture could change something. "I've got my gloves. They will help me." Another truth, or at least something that felt like a truth. Mike tilted his head to the other side, eyes moving to ceiling, when he tried to grasp why everything was alright as long as he had his gloves. "I didn't want to disturb your conversation." he went on after a moment, when he realized that he couldn't recall the reason. Well, maybe they weren't that important after all. "I simply need to buy something, and I hoped I can find it here, but now I'm not so sure anymore, so I might need to go somewhere else to look for it."

Zoe ducked when the chimera attacked them directly, glad that Jarias took over. Gone was the nervous boy, leaving a calm fighter in his place. She had trouble to phrase her relief at the fact that he knew what he did, that he had spent his time at the camp with something else than she had. The monster flinched back in pain when his blade left a deep gash in its tail and she gripped her bar tightly. Hesitantly she watched the fight, tried to find an opening, a good way for her to help, to use her improvised weapon. The chimera seemed to ignore her completely, instead it focused on Jarias. There wasn't a lot of room outside, good for them maybe as it hindered the beasts movements, although she couldn't suppress the feeling that she was trapped, that she had no way to escape. The small, mean eyes of the thing followed Jarias for a heartbeat before it struck again, fangs gleaming when it jumped forward to throw him to ground and bite his head off.

Looking up Mike saw a stranger, another stranger. Was this the night where he fud nothing but meet strangers only to loose them again in the crowd? His eyes moved over to the window in an attempt to discern whether it was even night. He had lost track of time, felt as if he was floating. "Alright, sure." He laughed, his laugh too loud, his eyes roaming the stranger's face, but never quite meeting the eyes. "Sure. Sure. I am alright, perfectly fine, if you ask me. If you do that, that is. It depends on who you ask." Shaking his head to clear his thoughts a little he tilted it to the sides, avoiding the puddle to his feet. "I had to drink salt water, you know." he explained and gestured towards it. "Needed to do it to make her happy, but i failed. She's not happy, more sad and she left." Pausing he frowned. She? Who was she? With a shrug he forced a smile on his face. "Don't worry about me. I know my way around in this city. I only need to buy something and I'm gone again. Need to do something you know?" Conspiratively he grinned at him. "I got my gloves, so everything is fine. With them on nothing can happen to me."

Shana didn't hesitate, didn't allow herself some time to hesitate and instead followed Rob inside. She had already destroyed the lock, the rest didn't matter anymore as well. Still she closed the door behind them, tried to make it seem as if everything was alright. "I will." she replied and then, without further delay started to search through the office as well. She left the cabinets to Rob and instead focused on the desk. The first drawer contained nothing but pencils, but the second one revealed letters. Some still closed, some opened and pushed back into their envelopes. She closed it again, deciding to take a look at the letter if they couldn't find anything anywhere else and opened the third one. The drawer contained sketches of various sizes, probably to some of the tools Doc built in his room in the cellar. She leaved through them, then shut the drawer again and opened the last one. Empty sheets of paper. Pursing her lips she looked over to Rob who was still sorting through leagues of loose papers on the floor and opened the second drawer again. "I found some letters." she announced quietly and lifted some of them. "Some are open, but some are still closed." She didn't voice the real question, whether to open them or not, knew that Rob would understand. "There might be something in one of them, some hint where we could go and take a look." And yet, breaking into a room was impolite, to search the room was an abuse of all the trust Doc had obviously placed in them. If he had wanted to really secure his office he could have done it, but he hadn't. He had locked it, despite knowing that a mere lock would stop none of them. But to read his private mail somehow was something else entirely. "Maybe we should look through the cabinets first?" She left the drawer open and walked over to him, moved more paper to the ground. Kneeling down she started to look through them. Advertisements, economical reports, more sketches. Frustration grew and the open drawer seemed to mock her, to call out to her. It had to be the only way. If they were to find something then- Pausing she lifted a record on world trade and its development during the last ten years again and reached for a single sheet of paper she had missed. It was a printed email and it obviously came from another Radiant. "Here." she held it out to him. "That could be something."

A spike. Mike stared at the building, at the sign. A spike. He walked over to the door, knocked and then pushed it open. Behind the door was a tavern, full of various people, talking, laughing, drinking. But a spike. He paused, tried to calm his breathing, to stop himself from looking around as if he was hunted, although he couldn't hide the way his arms and legs shook. He tugged at his gloves. He couldn't find him, he was gone, swallowed by some void, vanished in some alley and there was nothing, nothing - he stopped his line of thoughts, frowned and then tugged at the gloves again. It didn't matter. First he needed to find a spike, no, several. Two. He needed two. His chest hurt, one spot especially bright and he rubbed at it, the pressure helping a little with the pain. "Hello." he greeted the room and staggered over to the bar. "I want to buy something." Buy. He didn't have any money, so if he needed to pay, he needed to steal. They had to have spikes here with that name. It couldn't be that hard to find a long stick made of metal. "I need -" a spike. The words died on his lips as terror filled him, fear, endless fear. The shadows in the corner of the room seemed to creep closer and closer and he closed his eyes again. "Something to drink." he blurted. "Salty, salty water." He firmly shut his mouth. Salty water? But why, you couldn't even drink that, and yet, he knew, that he could deal with it. He knew about salty water. The man looked at him strangely but then filled a glass with water and added a spoonful of salt before pushing it over to him. Mike placed a chryst on the bar and grabbed the glass tightly, stired and then lifted it to his lips. The water was salty, so salty that his mouth constricted, that he wanted to spit it out again, but there was a part, a kind and gentle part that relished the taste and made him swallow, fill his mouth some more and swallow again. Again and again until the glass was empty and he set it down again, thirsty and shaking, but that small part hummed in satisfaction. Salty water. Who knew that salty water could be so joyful, that it would envelope him like that, that he needed - His stomach cramped and he doubled over, vomited on the floor. The water tasted awful, mixed with the drink he had earlier, now it was sour and stank, not only salty. Shaking Mike pressed his hands against his knees while his brain nodded in satisfaction. Of course he would vomit. You didn't drink salty water. And yet a feeling of loss grabbed him when he stared at the puddle to his feet. It was gone. Gone. And somewhere, somehow he felt as if a part of him withered and vanished again.

When you create a Radiant you have to pay the points in the list and then we substract some for the oaths that you speak. Blade and Plate are included, but the oaths aren't as they are different depending on the order. And yes, as we don't know the oaths of the Dustbringers, you will have to make them up. I have one that goes along the lines of "fighting for what is right, even beloved people" and I am planning for the last one to be the classical "I will aceept bodily harm or death to fullfill my mission/ fight for the right cause" (don't go with that wording, that character is so far away from that oath, that it's still pretty vague).

Zoe clung to her bag, held it tightly to her body and tried to think of a good way to solve the situation. Not that she really had a clue - but, she whirled around and pushed past the man back inside, while he shot a grateful look towards Jarias. "There aren't many on the train. It's only you, me and two others." he explained hastily. "We could slow the train down-" he stopped, ducked a little when the chimera moved its wings closer to its body. "Or call for help, a carriage, leave the train, but take us with you." he added hastily, speaking so quickly his words blurred together. Meanwhile Zoe grabbed something that looked a little like a metal bar. She had no idea how it was called, but she'd seen them before, on other trains. Supposedly these things were used to turn a switch should some electronics fail. Feeling better with at least something in her hand she returned outside just in time to watch the chimera screech again and then dive down, talons outstreched, maw open to what resembled to be an awful grin. If it weren't for the long, sharp teeth visible inside. Its talons were aiming for Jarias, while it already started to move its tail in order to bring the sharp end down on Ayra. @eltruT @AmazingGoob

Zoe grabbed her handbag and rushed after them. Her knuckles turned white when she gripped it too hard, her heart beating quickly. And here she was on a moving train that was chased by a monster. A man wearing the uniform of the staff joined them his face pale, probably as pale as her own. She joined Ayra and Jarias, peeked outside. "Can we distract it?" she asked, watched as the chimera flew closer, in a sweep above them. It screeched again, as if enjoying the hunt, its eyes never leaving the three of them. How were they even supposed to fight it, to do something while it was flying. Eyes wide she pressed her back against the doorframe while the creature screamed again and then spiraled downwards towards them, aiming to land on the roof and to attack. @AmazingGoob @turtle

Zoe listened to the explanation about the wizards and their wands, about how they wielded magic. She slowly relaxed, believed Jarias explanation of his nervousness. They would go to the school and then they hopefully would learn the truth about why they head been sent here. The train moved forward, slight vibrations running through it now and then and she turned her head, looked outside of the window, wondered how it would be to meet someone whose powers belonged to themselves and weren't based on some godly parent. "Jarias." She started, her voice shaking when she saw something, something large, something moving, something that most certainly didn't belong here. "Jarias. Arya." She repeated and stood up, moved away from the window although it had seen them, or sensed them or whatever it was that it did. The chimera screeched, iits wings beating the air, it's scorpion like tail extended straight behind it. It turned its head, its legs ending in goat like hooves, a long tongue flicking out between its fangs. Zoe took another step back, her mind trying to come up with something, anything, but her own words echoed in her head. She was useless in a fight, useless. There was nothing she could do. @AmazingGoob @turtle

So I just found this thread and I wondered if some of you read the Nightrunner Series by Lynn Flewelling? I know that might be a little off topic, but as I saw that there are already some recommendations for books written by other authors, I just wanted to ask if someone knows it and if yes, what do you think of it? I loved that one, the characters are very well developped and I liked her setting, and the way she depicted different cultures and their prejudices felt very real to me. And yes, both main characters are male and gay. It's no romance, they simply are who they are and to me it was nothing more and nothing less but a part of their identity, neither the determining fact about them, nor did it feel as if they only exist because of it. I actually only mention it, because of the title of this thread. So in short, to me this series is an very good example how you can include gay characters (or strong female ones by the way) without making that attribute the most important one and without making it feel forced or the central part of your story. They are who they are, and the books tell their stories through war and devastation. Sorry, if someone already mentioned them, I mostly read the first page, skimmed the second one and then last one again.