Lunamor

I’m good with whatever Stormlightsong and Longshot would prefer. I legit have no idea what Asylum’s gonna do. Eza’s probably going to do basically nothing right now unless someone actively tries to wake her up or heals her, although I can maybe fudge things a bit to give her a very limited ability to communicate. If that happens, I’d like some time for her to react ‘n stuff, although if she isn’t healed there isn’t much I’ll be able to have her do anyways. Having an incapacitated character isn’t the most fun, but I don’t think other outcomes would’ve been realistic (it’s on me for making characters that are weak in combat, though ). By the way, @Stormlightsong and @Longshot97, as a heads up I’m probably not going to post for now unless y’all directly interact with Eza in a way that might wake her up, so don’t wait on me for anything.

S-H comma to the top (that’s god’s comma) Dynasty will always be my favorite

"I guess that means we're going through the Labyrinth, then." Jenny slid down after Aaron, smiling a little despite herself. Slides were fun. Less fun when they led to almost certain doom, but still kinda fun.

The signups are always open

Everything was black. Dark. Dark and quiet. No, not quiet. Something was loud. Yelling, or maybe screaming. Was it angry? Upset? Scared? She didn't know if it was her or something else. She'd been doing something important. She couldn't remember what. That probably wasn't a good sign. Why couldn't she move? You could still move with your eyes closed, right? She must be asleep, dreaming. You weren't supposed to hurt in a dream, though. There was a lot of pain, and it felt real. She was moving. But she couldn't move. Someone must be carrying her. Helping her. Keeping her safe. Mother? *** Eza slid in and out of consciousness, the few thoughts she could muster delirious and disjointed. She was limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A soft groan escaped her lips as the small, instinctive part of her that remained aware reacted to the pain concentrated in her torso. Her breathing was shallow, as if her body struggled to move her chest up and down to make room for the air in her lungs. *** Something was very, very wrong.

Eza released her two pulls and fell to the floor. She stood up with quite a bit of difficulty and limped over to the door as quickly as she could. Burning iron, she focused on the lock. She could do this. She'd practiced it before, albeit in a far less high-stakes situation. She closed her eyes and looked at the single line making up the lock. All of her thoughts became centered around that line. What is was, where it led, the slightest differences in metallic makeup just barely noticeable in different sections. After a tense moment, she saw the line split. It became several smaller lines, each pointing to a different component of the lock. She was familiar with locks. You had to get good at picking them if you wanted to get to the really valuable stuff, sometimes. She seized a thicker line pointing to where she knew the latch would be located, stumbled to the side to get a better angle, then pulled. With a barely audible thunk, the cell door was locked. Eza finally extinguished her iron, breathing heavily from the exertion. She looked over at Eighth. She would've smiled with relief at trapping the monster had his injuries not given her so much concern. That thing had scratched his back really badly. He wasn't out of danger yet. She felt awful that he'd been in this situation in the first place because of her. She needed to find him medical attention as fast as possible. "Are you alright?" She tried to stay standing, but something felt wrong. She swayed to the side enough that she was in danger of falling, so she opted to relent to her exhaustion and sit. She'd used a lot of iron. Her body hadn't been built for that. Her mind hadn't been built for that. With a shaking hand, she uncorked one of her vials of iron and downed it. That stunt had nearly wiped out her reserves completely. Blackness began to overtake the edges of her vision as her adrenaline wore off. While it wasn't particularly visible, the impacts of her repeated strong ironpulls had nearly torn her apart. Every fiber of her body was screaming for the release of unconsciousness. Thinking was hard. Why was it getting dark? Someone must be turning the lights off. They'd turned the heating off, too. That wasn't very considerate. The little black cat started to persistently headbutt Eza, as if it was trying to keep her awake. The continuous, wailing screeches from the enraged vampire barely reached her ears. She... she needed to keep moving. They needed to leave. Eighth needed her help. But Harmony, she was so tired...

"He is apple cider," Lunamor explained. "Made from apples. I'm... not sure what those are. I think someone from Scadrial brought them over at some point." They were a somewhat strange fruit, but they tasted delicious. They also made an equally delicious drink. Lunamor nodded and shuffled off to the kitchen to prepare some chouta.

Eza looked up at the monster towering over her. Its eyes were wild, angry, hungry, excited. The beast bared its teeth in a twisted smile. It was moving slower now, stalking her like an injured fawn. She swore she could hear it laughing. It was savoring this. She couldn't even get on her feet, put up some semblance of a resistance. Both of them knew that there was only one outcome. She wanted to be brave, to face her death with dignity. But she wasn't. Her eyes were wide, breath fast, heart pounding. She was terrified. She felt so small. Then Eighth yelled at her to pull. He'd thrown up a bracelet attached to some sort of glowing line that he held. Eza didn't have time to process why he wanted her to do that, but she trusted him. She knew that she shouldn't have, that her foolish trust was the reason they were in this mess, but somehow she still did. She immediately flared her iron and pulled on two things simultaneously- the bracelet, and a doorknob behind her. While the bracelet was light, the man holding its line most certainly wasn't. The beast leapt forwards, snarling. Its mouth was open wide, fangs seeking her throat. Just before it reached its target, it suddenly lost all momentum. Its jaws closed around nothing. Then, it began to slowly be dragged away, back towards the cell. It swiped a clawed hand at her in fury, letting out another blood-curdling screech, but was out of arms reach. Eza, meanwhile, was desperately trying to not tear herself in half. The vampire was roughly about as heavy as Eighth was, but this time she didn't have a wall to support her. While she hadn't managed to stand up, she was lifted a few feet into the air by her efforts anyways. The doorknob remained stubbornly in place, but she worried that it would be torn off of the door if she continued to pull on it like this. Slowly, the bracelet moved towards her, quivering in midair.

Lunamor briefly looked out of the window. It seemed pretty cold out. ”Yes, he is in season.” He grabbed a bottle from a shelf and filled a cup for the new customer, greatly appreciative of the fact that he’d ordered something nonalcoholic.

I’m surprised it took this long for us blondies to get a club

Eza's throat constricted as she saw Eighth's darts ineffectively bounce off of the monster's eye. That was her fault; she'd told him to use nonlethal attacks on the guards. She didn't regret that, but somehow felt guilty anyways. Then the creature lunged at Eighth. It was going to kill him. Almost as if by instinct, Eza held her blade close to her chest pointing outwards, flared her iron, then pulled hard on the metal bars of a cell not meant for allomancers ahead of her. She shot forwards and crashed into the vampire before it reached her friend. The small girl grunted at the impact but managed to send them both flying through the air and slam the beast against the cell door. Its head hit a bar with a resounding crack, dazing it. She quickly stepped back before it could get its bearings again. She left her dagger embedded deep within its heart, the force of her pull having given her the strength to pierce through its chest. It was sunken completely up to the handle, nearly sticking out of the back as well. Eza hesitantly waited, expecting the monster to collapse at any moment. She'd given it a lethal blow- you couldn't heal from being dead. Its eyes dropped down to the blade for a moment, then back up at her. They had so much rage for something so lifeless. Not breaking eye contact, it yanked the blade out with a squelching noise. She cringed as it let her weapon slip out of its fingers to the floor, the metallic clinking against the concrete seeming to be louder than gunshots. She began to panic even more than she already had been. Was this thing just immortal? How was she supposed to kill it if stabbing it through the heart didn't work? It could potentially regenerate from anything. How did you fight that? Absentmindedly she pulled on the metal embedded within her fallen dagger's handle, sending it rocketing back into her hand. Eza looked past the monster. A cell. There was a cell. As the beast began to sprint at her again, she pulled on its door. It swung open, the guards not having bothered to lock an empty cell. The beast, however, ran at her even faster than it had before. It was angry, now. Perhaps that was why she survived the next blow. Rather than go for her throat, it kicked her in the stomach hard enough that she lost her balance and crumpled to the ground. @Speeding Steelrunner @Scars of Hathsin

Eza stumbled as something caused the ground to shake. It sounded like thunder. It wasn't storming, though, and lightning bolts weren't supposed to do something like this if they struck a building. Was this another weird thing Asylum had caused? If they could make quakes like this, it was a very bad sign. She and Eighth needed to escape before the whole building was brought down. She anxiously looked around, trying to see where the boom had come from. She spotted large splintered pieces of wood that had been flung across the hallway they'd been heading down. Something must've happened there to destroy part of the constabulary. They needed to change direction, then. Surely there was another way out. Before she could point this out to Eighth as he recovered from partially falling, a much softer sound rang out. A little black cat trotted out from around a corner, then mewed in greeting. Eza cocked her head in confusion. Why was a cat in the police station? It must've come from outside. The poor thing was probably trapped. She gestured at it, trying to get it to come with her. It could follow them out to safety. The animal complied, bounding over. Suddenly, once it got a few feet away from her, it skidded to a stop. The fur on its tail puffed up and it hissed loudly, staring at something behind Eza. Instinctively, she moved away. A clawed hand swiped where her throat had been, closing around nothing but air. She whirled around to find a man there. He looked kinda like the other wrong people that she'd seen shambling around, but had some differences. Mainly, there were two long teeth protruding from his lips. They glistened with wet blood. The gore splattered across its face made her realize that it was probably the same sort of monster as the one she'd seen killing that poor guard. It immediately launched into another attack, swiping a clawed hand towards her with an unnatural speed. Eza barely managed to dodge the brunt of the blow, burning iron and using a door handle to yank herself to the side. The monster still managed to scratch her, tearing a bright red streak across her arm. She wanted to ironpull herself down the hallway and continue fleeing, but she wasn't sure that Eighth would be able to keep up with her. He'd been hurt pretty badly. Since flight wasn't an option, Eza decided to fight. She swiped at the beast with a glittering dagger while still in motion and managed to catch it by surprise, cutting a deep gash along its face and ruining one eye. To her dismay, even as it was still recoiling from the strike, the cut began to close, skin knitting back together and eye reforming. @Speeding Steelrunner @Stormlightsong

Eza couldn't help but stare at that strange, beautiful metal that almost completely overtook her vision. It seemed alive, somehow. Even the most talented allomancers couldn't cause metal to morph and move like that. It was absolutely fascinating. That glowing glove thingy Eighth wore appeared to be allowing him to control it. Maybe Eighth wouldn't notice if a tiny bit of the shiny substance went missing. Most people probably couldn't have done what he just did even discounting the metal, too. The grace and deftness of his movements were almost unnatural. Maybe he was a Pewterarm, although she felt like he would've mentioned it at some point by now if he was. He didn't look very Scadrian, either. Her eyes followed the metallic liquid as it retreated into the waterskin, and she noticed him gesturing towards it. The urgency and awfulness of the situation hit her again, jolting her out of her reverie. Her thoughts sped up, her time spent pulling herself through the air on unknown objects informing her ability to make snap decisions. Asylum was to her left, safety straight ahead. They might see her if she moved, but they were getting closer. If she waited for the perfect opportunity, it might never be there. Even if they were spotted, Eza and Eighth were fast. They might be able to outrun Asylum. They hadn't done anything to antagonize them, so they might not bother to put in the effort to chase them in the first place. They weren't easy targets like the poor prisoners were. Eighth was giving her a chance she had to take before it vanished. With how much effort it had taken her to pull him down a hallway, she wasn't worried that he wouldn't be able to handle the force she exerted on the metal he held. Its line was weirdly thick, too. It was incredibly heavy, even for a solid chunk of metal. It could hold her weight reasonably well. She leapt straight up into the air, then pulled on the pouch. Soundlessly she shot across the hallway, her loose hair streaming out behind her. She hadn't bothered to put up her hood; the attacker had already seen her face. As she sped closer to her new friend, she glanced to the side. Her old friend was hardly recognizable. Their eyes were familiar, though. Cold, dark, colorless. They'd once talked about how Eza hadn't understood how powerful they were, how they didn't fear the monsters from children's scary stories. She finally understood why. Someone so full of themself couldn't be afraid of themself. Eza stopped pulling and her momentum slowed. She pulled gently on the hinges of a closed door behind her to completely cancel her it. A mere second after she'd begun her decision, her feet silently met the ground, and she was now standing in front of Eighth. @Stormlightsong