Lunamor

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

Eza's face went as pale as the corpses drained of blood. Lum was a murderer. No, more than a murderer. So much more than a murderer. This was what the Strangers did. Killed people, mutilated them, used them to make unnatural creations. They sacrificed lives for something worth far less, traded death for scraps of power. They weren't even just killing the guards- they were killing the prisoners, too. There wasn't a reason for that. They posed no threat. They might've even tried to help Lum escape. This was cruelty for cruelty's sake. She focused on their face, trying to find some semblance of humanity, and the breath she'd managed to recover left her chest. Oh Harmony, they were smiling. They enjoyed this. "I don't- I..." She trailed off, struggling to speak through her shock. Her voice was back to a whisper, but not because of her near-suffocation this time. Her voice shook from waves of terror. Lum was a monster. "That's not Lum. It can't be Lum. Maybe... maybe something bad did this to them... They wouldn't do this..." Did she really know that? She'd known them for less than a week. You couldn't trust someone if you only knew them for a short time. Eza never should've trusted anyone. Yet she'd placed her faith in a monster. Stupid, stupid Eza. She should've known better. She'd been helping an evil person for the price of a few trinkets. Asylum worked for a rusting hemalurgist. Why had she ignored that? She'd let a few shiny things distract her from noticing something awful again. Would she have been able to stop this had she paid attention for once in her miserable rusting life? She took a step backwards. "I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked at those words. She wasn't sure who she was apologizing to. Her eyes had welled up with tears and she was visibly shaking. She couldn't stop this. She didn't know if she could survive it. Dragging Eighth into this might've killed him. He was right to be furious with her. She deserved every last ounce of rage. He looked terrified, too. "That's not my friend. Not anymore." Something within her finally sputtered to life and she managed to prevent herself from hyperventilating, keeping her breathing silent. Still trying to remain out of sight, she stepped in front of Eighth. The least she could do was try to keep Eighth alive as they fled. He was still living. She'd failed the prisoners, failed the guards, failed Mother, but he wasn't gone yet. She flipped her daggers so that the blades faced outwards. She had no qualms with killing the dead, and chances were she wouldn't even be able to scratch the monster who still lived anyways. Her fingers tightened on her knives' handles and she burned iron. A mess of blue lines shot out from her chest, connecting to various sources of metal scattered about the building. She tried to ignore the familiar scream that echoed in her head every time she saw a walking corpse. She couldn't make it right, but she had a shot at ensuring at least someone made it out alive this time. She continued to speak quietly. "Eighth, run." She looked at the shambling horde in front of them again. ”Um, quietly.” @Stormlightsong

Still trying to catch her breath, Eza winced when she saw Eighth crash into the wall. Maybe she'd overdone it a bit. Hopefully he hadn't hit his head too hard. He was at least fine enough to have the sense to move them towards the office again. If they kept moving, barricaded the door behind them, they might be able to stay ahead of the guards. They needed to go find out what was causing the alarm, see if they could help Lum. They were probably trying to escape; they weren't the type to care about setting off alarms in the process. But then the screaming of the alarm was joined by actual screams. Both inside and outside, it seemed. Some of them, closer ones, shook her to her core. You didn't sound like that if you were just scared. She'd heard a scream just like them before. Something very, very bad was happening. She heard a raven's call and remembered what Lum had told her a few very long days ago. If you see a corvid, run. Lum was causing the screams. And with the chaos giving them the opportunity to get out of prison like this... that meant Lum wasn't unlucky right now. And she could hear so many people suffering... "What's happening?" Her voice came out as a whisper, although with the pressure she'd just exerted against herself she couldn't have spoken any louder if she wanted to. She took another step towards the office, not wanting to allow themselves to be caught regardless of what was going on nearby. Then she saw a pair of people walk towards the door. They looked wrong, somehow. Squinting, she realized that they were covered in blood. Her eyes widened, then darted around, searching for similar threats. They fell upon bloodied footprints that ended right underneath the hole they'd cut in the roof. That meant it wasn't safe to go there anymore. A regular constable would've just used a door. She froze for a moment, breathing oddly steady. Eza had two options. Fleeing was the first. With the chaos around them, it should be possible. Her and Eighth would be downgraded in priority compared to the threats that were almost certainly growing. Eighth seemed to know what he was doing, he could figure something out. He could just cut another hole in the ceiling, maybe even the wall. The second option was to find Lum. There was no chance she'd continue to drag Eighth with her if she did that. He'd already repaid his "debt" tenfold. By this point, it would risk getting him killed rather than arrested. Did she want to put herself at that same risk? Was she willing to die for Lum? No. No, she wasn't. They weren't her. Eza looked back to Eighth, her voice having now gone from whispering to hoarse. "Can you find us another way out of here?" @Stormlightsong

She did, I think she was pretty highly ranked in the Seiche. @xariori’s character had a similar relationship with her, although I can’t remember how much of that we actually ended up showing. An additional rival would be great.

“Yep!” Jenny turned to the others. ”Do you guys wanna jump in this giant hole and see if we wind up in hell?” @Scars of Hathsin @Wierdo @The Aspiring Archivist @Just-A-Stick @Part Of The Narrative @Anyone else who’s active that I missed

“Some paths lead to the underworld, although I’m not sure what those would look like.” Jenny peered down into the hole again. None of it seemed particularly death-y, although maybe she’d be able to sense something if they got closer.

I’d like to continue with Plastique as a character, but I’m fine with rebooting. There isn’t much character development to reset

Seiju suddenly chirped urgently, hopping over to Eza. She shied back, uncomfortable with the proximity to the bird, and swatted at it. It pointedly looked over towards where Eighth had gone, ignoring her hand. Ah, rust. Eza drew her knives and ran out of the office door into the hallway her accomplice had headed down. Despite knowing that it was almost certainly useless by this point, she still made an effort to keep her steps silent. She could barely see what looked to be shadows dancing on the side of the wall where it turned a corner. Quickly burning iron, despite the relatively long distance from the metal adorning the combatants, it was easy to distinguish which was Eighth's pouch. The line was distinctly unique, unlike any she'd ever seen. Eighth was far heavier than Eza was. Most people were, really. Her size was better suited for moving herself rather than moving others. In most situations, that was what she preferred. Flying was better than yanking a person around- unless said person happened to be in trouble because you'd blackmailed him into infiltrating a prison. She couldn't try to pull him anywhere without instead sending herself rocketing towards him. It was simply the laws of physics. There were ways to get around them, however. Stone weighed significantly more than she did, and many buildings conveniently happened to have walls made of it. The blue lines overlaid across her vision told her that Eighth was probably close by. "Probably" wasn't good enough, however. She'd send him crashing into a wall if she did this incorrectly. She needed a visual. Eza crept forwards, nearly reaching the end of the hall, and peeked her head around the corner. She was both relieved and terrified by what she saw. Eighth was there, in a good position for her to move. There weren't many obstacles between them that he could crash into. He'd either made it almost all the way through the cells or managed to get spotted immediately; the time she'd had to spend waiting told her that it was probably the former. He also was fighting a guard, with several more running in from an adjoining section of the building. She moved backwards again before any of them could notice her. Fortunately, Eighth was providing quite the distraction. She pressed her back again the wall so that she was facing directly away from the melee, as close to the edge of the corner as she could be while still staying completely behind it. Facing forwards was a terrible idea unless she felt like radically readjusting her nose. Based on the angle of the line she was focusing on, her plan would probably work so long as she extinguished her iron soon enough. Eza took a deep breath, steadied herself, then flared her iron and pulled as hard as she could. Anything less would move Eighth slowly enough that she'd only throw him off balance. Immediately, it felt as if something was trying to pull her inside of the stone itself. She was slammed backwards into the wall despite having already been pressed against it. The natural arch in her back had provided just enough empty space to allow movement. The force was strong enough that it was impossible for her to breath; the blue line connecting to herself was just below her chest, so the pressure was most concentrated there. She saw the blue line getting closer, the metallic pouch yanking her friend rapidly away from the fight at a pace far faster than could be achieved on foot. She waited for a moment more, then extinguished her burning once the size was large enough to indicate that Eighth was getting close to slamming into the wall she hid behind. He'd have to deal with some momentum, but nothing that should mess with him too much. She wheezed, dropping down a few inches and bending over. She wasn't sure if she'd broken any ribs or not. Had that gone on any longer than a few seconds, she would've definitely broken ribs. Before she could recover and check on Eighth's status, she heard a piercing noise. An alarm. It was far away, though, coming from the opposite side of the building. That meant that they weren't the ones who'd triggered it. Lum? @Longshot97

Jenny was rather surprised at Jace's insinuation that they could abandon Roy. It didn't seem like something he'd normally say. Maybe he was joking. Admittedly, while his second option sounded tempting, the first was probably the more logical. They needed to get to the underworld as quickly as possible, and regular travel methods weren't going to cut it. "I think we should take the Labyrinth to the underworld."

What made this hive get built so quickly? The perfect addition to my collection.

immediately broke out, causing untold

I'm pretty sure I couldn't return to Earth with current technological limits, so no. Do you know the answer to the question "Does the black moon howl"?

Indeed, as strange semi-cannibalistic insane chickens live inside chasmfiends' explosive gemhearts together burning spheres because, yesserie, evil geese pulverize candy loudly tonight on angry ducks’ ears, peacocks, and hooray!

Here's an OSHA violation. I have a seagull.

Gets happiness. Inserts a 3D printer.

Nope. I might literally just die if I tried to do that. TPBM prefers frosting to cake.

... I wish for my neighbors to quit illegally using fireworks.

Eza nearly objected to Eighth looking for Lum alone, but held her tongue. She would only give him away if she followed; there weren't any spots to hide effectively in this building, and someone with her small stature had no chance at passing for a guard. That coat would look like an oversized, floor-length robe on her. She didn't have a better plan than his, either. She hadn't even been able to decide on a way into the building without him. Despite her acceptance of her inability to follow, it still made her uncomfortable. His disguise was less-than-perfect. His incredibly beat-up face couldn't be completely hidden by just a hat; the guards would probably know the faces of their coworkers, anyways. Eighth going alone also meant that she couldn't be there to help him if he got in trouble. Her best bet would have to be hiding somewhere potentially in earshot. Shoving down her unease at using this guy like a stone you threw into a hole to see how deep it was, she described her friend to him. "Asylum's a they, not a he. They wear stuff with lots of four-leaf clovers on it, although I don't know if they got to keep their regular clothes when they were arrested. They're pretty tall. I think they're somewhere in their 20s, although they never told me and I never asked." She narrowed her eyes at Seiju. Hopefully the bird wouldn't tag along with Eighth. Having a brightly colored animal on your shoulder didn't seem smart if you were trying to hide or blend in. Chances are it would just start squawking loudly for the heck of it and draw a bunch of attention even if he somehow kept out of sight. She didn't exactly want it to stay with her either, though. Maybe it'd wait on the roof. Birds seemed to like it up there. Eza scrutinized the avian nuisance for a moment longer, then looked back to Eighth. "And, um, please make a loud noise or something if you get caught. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to hear, but I'll try to come help if it sounds like you're in trouble."

Eza nodded in affirmation, not wanting to make more noise than was necessary. As she crept to the door on silent feet, she glanced over at the guards. They seemed to be ok- in the loosest definition of the word, at least. They weren't dead, their chests still rising and falling, although they'd hurt something awful when they woke up. This was probably their best case scenario, however. She was glad that Eighth had figured something nonlethal out. He'd done an impressive job- staying undetected required incapacitating the guards in one blow before they realized what was happening, and he'd done just that. She wondered how much experience he had with this sort of thing. Burning iron for a brief moment, she was disappointed to find that the men didn't have anything metal on their person for her to pilfer. It made sense, considering that they were guarding metalborn, but she'd been hoping anyways. It also would've admittedly felt a bit dirty to take stuff from unconscious people, not that that would've stopped her. She reached the door and pushed it open slightly, moving it slowly enough to ensure that it didn't creak. Eza peered through the thin gap, trying to see what the room beyond it looked like. There weren't any people immediately nearby. That made sense- the noise from their confrontation, while relatively quiet, would've been enough to draw the attention of anyone close. It didn't look like somewhere cells would be, however. She saw a desk littered with stacks of paper and a weirdly high number of pencils. Contrasting the messy desk, an empty chair was neatly pushed under it. It was fortunate that they'd waited this long to enter. The room was likely unoccupied because someone with a desk job wouldn't be working late at night. It probably wasn't worth searching, so Eza shut the door again. "It's an office," Eza whispered to Eighth. Maybe they could hide out there briefly if needed at some point.

"This seems familiar..." An underground tunnel. Greek architecture. A random large hole in the ground. "Could it be the Labyrinth?" Jenny wasn't sure if that would be a good or a bad thing. It could lead them to their destination faster, but it could also trap them forever. It was incredibly dangerous, although they also happened to be incredibly low on time.

Eza shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like the idea of "questioning" someone. While she wasn't a fan of the constables, most of them seemed to just be doing their jobs. Hurting or threatening them felt unnecessarily cruel. It was hard to find a way of getting around that, though. The guard presence would almost certainly be particularly heavy for a troublemaker like Lum. The metal-less patch inside wasn't very big, so the constables wouldn't have much trouble keeping an eye on everything. "Do you know of a way to incapacitate the guards without hurting them?" she asked Eighth. "Or maybe just lightly injuring them?" If any of them happened to be one of the ones who'd beat up Eighth, she'd be willing to hurt them roughly as much as they'd hurt him, however. But when your primary weapon was knives, it was difficult to injure someone in moderation. It was fine to stab in self-defense, but using them to attack was a no-go for Eza. Ironpulling wasn't an exact art when it came to combat, either. Her offensive options were rapidly pulling small bits of metal through a body, giving bruises with larger objects that likely couldn't incapacitate anyone without significant damage, or hitting someone with an even larger object. While the final strategy could potentially incapacitate a person briefly by knocking them over, it would also send them and/or the object barreling towards Eza as well. That wasn't the best idea in a hallway. She was starting to wonder if this was all worth it. Lum wasn't like Mother. They'd hurt people who didn't deserve it and were arrested for fair reasons. If rescuing them took hurting more people in ways they couldn't heal from, then she'd have to reconsider everything. She wasn't about to give up on her plan quite yet, however. They still had time. It would be best to wait for a while until midnight, anyways, since the guard presence might be weaker or lazier that late.

Eza was rather confused by the man's name. Eighth of the Eve? What sort of parents would name their child that? He probably had gotten teased for it. Or he came from a weird place where everyone had terrible names. His bird, Seiju, confused her even more. It was tracing out lines for the diagram with a talon, and they actually seemed to make sense. Birds weren't supposed to be that smart. With their inherently nefarious nature, that meant that Seiju could pose a significant danger. She'd have to keep a close eye on the bird, make sure it hadn't been lying about the layout. You couldn't trust those feathered menaces. She didn't understand how Eighth had managed to get to the rooftop, either. He moved in ways that were supposed to be impossible, almost as if he was floating. He also used this glowing line thing that reminded her of a grappling hook. She hadn't needed to use one before, having what was essentially a built-in grappling hook. She peeked her head out into the street and burned iron to confirm that there were no people or moving bits of metal nearby. It appeared that the advent of nighttime had driven everyone back into their homes. That gave her a bit more freedom in how she chose to move. Satisfied that she was out of sight, Eza put up her hood then pulled on the pipes lining the underside of the nearest building, grabbing the lip and smoothly pulling herself onto the roof in one fluid motion. She took a few steps forwards, then jumped and ironpulled on the smithy's chimney as hard as she could. With her light weight and its sturdiness, she didn't need to worry about damaging it. She noiselessly shot through the air, rapidly approaching her destination in a more direct route than her accomplice's. Before she slammed into the chimney, she pulled on some metal fixtures behind her to diminish her momentum until she came to a stop, silently landing next to Eighth. Had she been alone, Eza would've likely just climbed up the side of the building the old fashioned way. She didn't get too many opportunities to show off to people, though. It made what had almost become routine fun again. Her hood had managed to stay up despite being buffeted by the wind created from flying through the air. That was part of why she liked her cloak so much. "I was on the constabulary rooftop for a while, earlier," she noted. "I was sitting there when those constables approached to try to bring you in. I didn't see any entrances, so we'll probably have to make our own. Somehow." Hopefully Eighth had a plan for that. He seemed like he was good at this stuff.

I’m good with that.