ZincAboutIt

Bennington spun through the room as the Professor baked his cake. He was beginning to change his opinion of the man; the copper spike had much improved him. He was actually rather decent company now. Bennington drew on the thread, tasting another sip of madness. It was growing more concentrated, sweeter. Good. Soon he would begin to remember. But for now, it was nice to bake again. “Bennington you can taste it after I make the first batch. Or actually I guess I will. How does that work exactly, do hallucinations know what I taste?" Bennington swam a loop around the Professor, pausing over his shoulder to observe the ingredients. Vivica would have altered the recipe - this was not her preferred method for making frosting. But then, Vivica did not actually make frosting, such as it was. If the Professor was actually interested in frosting a cake, this was precisely how to go about it. If what he really wanted was to eviscerate a wanderer against the lonely brick of an Alleyway, then he was definitely off the mark. But how to telegraph that message? Bennington drifted over to the still-open cupboard and hovered over a small bottle of food coloring. Printed on the label we’re three letters that had formed the bedrock of Vivica’s gospel. Red. @Voidus

"Why Lita you do know how to spoil a girl." Laurelai matched Lita’s smile, and Lita saw in her eyes a flicker of something familiar. A hungry gleam, the keen gaze of a hunter sensing its prey. She reveled in the shared sensation; it was like sharpening one’s teeth in a mirror. “A practiced spy needs plenty of skills.” Lita felt the whisper of something as she said it, like breath on the back of her neck, like teeth toying at her ear. She drained the last of her tea, the heat lingering in her mouth. It felt as though something hovered in the air, sharp as broken glass and heady as wine. It waited, an unseen tendril of smoke and shadow curling around the two of them, feeding their hunger, drawing upon it. Lita stood, sliding the gold coin off the table and letting it dance between her fingers. “Come,” she said to Laurelai, “let us be about our work. Work before play. We must be well prepared for Mister Darsen. After all, preparation is everything. We just need to find the right thread to pull.” The coin almost seemed to pulse in her hand, phantom heat simmering through the narrow red scar on her palm. Lita bared her teeth against the slight pain; even still, her lips curled upwards. “I do so enjoy watching a handsome man unravel, don’t you?” @Voidus

“Has something interesting happened there?" She asked with a wry smile. "Or are we on another fact-finding mission?" Lita raised an eyebrow at that. “I didn’t realize you were so eager for ‘interesting’ work. I do apologize if spycraft isn’t shaping up to be everything the cinema promised.” She took another sip of tea, then gave Laurelai a sharp smile. “But don’t worry, R&D are always looking for assistants. I’m sure I could put in a good word if you’d like a transfer.” She winked, then flipped open the file. “It appears,” Lita ran her finger down the dossier before stopping at a picture of a shapely dressed man in his middle years, “that we are looking for one Ronald Darsen. Forger - mundane of course - embezzler, con artist, tax evader, and purchaser of radically expensive suits. As one would be, with all that dirty money. One has to look clean, after all, and doesn’t he just.” Lita tapped her tongue against the back of her teeth once, then took another sip of tea. “But perhaps the most interesting thing about dear Mister Darsen is that he works for us, that is to say, the DA.” Lita stopped to allow that to sink in, then continued. “Occasionally one department will find itself at cross purposes to another, almost always by accident. I initially thought this the case. So imagine my surprise when I could find no record whatsoever of his Department - or any Department - that authorized his foray into Einladung Hospital.” She paused again, this time to unlock a tiny drawer in the desk and pull out a single sheet of paper. “Mail just seems to appear around here - so convenient. So quick. You never see the messengers, or if you do, you forget almost immediately. Most people don’t even think they can talk. But I assure you, a Stranger will talk if you apply the right leverage - that leverage being a Senior R&D member with pliers wrapped around your linchpin spike.” Her smile sharpened. “It is convenient to have friends in high places. Even here, it largely comes down to who you know. Which brings me to our ‘interesting’ fact. The Stranger who delivered a missive to Ronald Darsen cannot actually remember where he got it, or why. He could only tell us that he was sent by Department Head Allie of DASU. A Department which I have never heard of, and neither has the oldest person I could find - who happens to be a tidy 2,500 years old. So, either someone is playing silly buggers with all of us, including a nigh-invisible hemalurgic servant - or something else is happening. And the only place that has older records than I do is the Records Department. So if this ‘Allie’ exists, that will be the place to find them. And if they do not, then I believe Ronald Darsen will have a rather interesting afternoon.” Lita grinned mirthlessly. “And I do mean interesting.” @Voidus

Lita felt a little shiver run down her neck and smiled as she poured tea first for Laurelai, then for herself. “Something like that, yes,” she said, turning around to fetch a small pot of sugar and a tiny pitcher of cream. She set these before Laurelai, feeling a small twinge of guilt at the woman’s obvious headache. Perhaps the kettle had been the wrong choice. “I take it you haven’t?” Lita set the kettle on a little stand near the fireplace and returned the poker to the flames, then slid into her chair. ”Please do begin.” She nodded at Laurelai to begin drinking, then opened a drawer in her desk to remove a file. “I’ve received nearly the entire picture of our well-dressed gentleman,” Lita went on, stopping to pour a splash of cream into her tea. It swirled in the cup, mixing lazily, until Lita gave it a whirl with a spoon. “There’s one final piece to set in place, and I thought you might wish to accompany me. Tell me,” she sipped the tea, still piping hot, “have you visited the Department of Records yet?”

@Voidus what is the policy on letting boars and badgers loose on the city. Are we for it? I just can’t remember our badger policy

It shouldn’t have felt so good to spin the heavy gold coin between her fingers, but it did. Lita watched the light slide across its face like water, winking at her as she walked it across her knuckles, flipped it once, and caught it in her other hand. Her unoccupied fingers toyed with the end of her braid. The cup of tea sat at the corner of her desk, steam long-since cooled. There was something she was forgetting, she was sure of it, a blank space in her mind. It left a slight shape with its absence, the outline of something sweet and wickedly scalding as molten sugar. Lita wanted to chase it like fire chewing through a line of blasting cord, and if it killed her at the end then Ruin but it was a death she wanted. Lita sighed and set the coin down on the table as she noticed her silver pen twitch slightly. She picked it up, smiling at Laurelai’s prompt response, and then looked over at her now-cold cup of tea. That won’t do, she thought, standing and walking over to the little wet bar in the corner of the office. Laurelai would likely wish for a cup of tea as well, and that called for fresh leaves and more water. Lita took down the copper pot from a shelf and filled it with water and two scoops of tea before she set out two new tea cups on the desk. Then she walked over to the fireplace and reached her hand into the freshly-stoked embers. Her fingers curled around metal, and Lita smiled before drawing out a glowing length of iron bar. She rapidly stored the heat in her brass ear cuffs, but even so she felt the whip sting of a burn whisper on her fingertips. With little ceremony, she plunged the glowing metal into the pot of water. Iron met water with a scalding hiss, and steam instantly began to billow out of the top of the pot. Lita forced the lid on, and with nowhere to go it continued to pour through the spout, emitting a manic, high-pitched scream that seemed to fit perfectly with Lita’s mood. The door opened, and Laurelai stood at the threshold, face pensive and slightly alarmed. ”Ah, Laurelai,” Lita said over the din, still holding the now-dimming poker in one hand. God Beyond but today it felt like she could melt the sun itself. “Good, you’re just in time for tea.” @Voidus

Lita woke slowly, feeling the dream slip away like the last grains of sand in an hourglass. The warmth of rich brown skin beneath her cheek shifted to linen, the rhythmic beating of a heart against her ear melted into the ticking of a clock. The clever fingers running through her hair disappeared, the contented, lazy grin fading into nothing. A black, endless eye, half-lidded in satisfied exhaustion, lingered just long enough to wink. Wake up, Little Lita. And Lita opened her eyes. She gave a tiny groan and stretched languidly, feeling both sore and impossibly relaxed. The bed was in complete disarray, sheets kicked onto the floor in a heap, pillows shoved halfway into the headboard. Lita sat up and ran a hand through her hair, which snagged almost immediately on a snarl of knots. She sighed, rolling her neck, and was pleased to find the knot of tension that had been plaguing her for weeks gone without a trace. Lita stood, and an echo of the dream shimmered across her memory, heat and shadow and a hunger like the void. Fingertips along her spine and her mouth on his neck and the white-lightning lance through her vision when — A shudder ran through her, enough to nearly cause her to fall, and she gripped the bedside table with a whispered curse. Her fingers brushed the cool, smooth edge of the Coin, which sat in a blackened ring on the wood tabletop. It was lucky the whole thing hadn’t caught fire. Lita picked it up; one side bore the Sun, the other the World. Subtle, she thought, then remembered the first part of the dream. It had been, arguably, the more important part. The part full of dangerous secrets, of information she’d have killed to know just a day ago. She held the image of the Shade standing before her, running his finger along her cheek, face filled with a melancholy longing that ached even now. “You are your own. And I am more envious of that than you know.” He wanted to help her - he wanted to help them all. But deeper than all of that, he wished to be free. Lita could still feel her own simmering rage at the Stranger, at how he’d moved her around like a piece on the board, stolen her life, built her a cage of dreams. But that was nothing compared to the Shade. She tried to imagine it, shackled to the whim of his creator, never completely free. Never able to slip the leash, no matter how much slack he was allowed. A nightmare - living forever as the shadow of another. Lita ran a hand along her ribs - nothing. Nothing but the faint pain of metal that should be there. She looked at the copper bands on her arms, all too aware that she must have tapped the memories in her sleep. And if she had them back, it was only a matter of time before the shadow creatures would come to fix the aberration. She would have to forget again. Damn this rusting game, Lita thought, slipping out of her shift and turning on the shower. At the last moment, she slid the bayonet off the bedside too. It felt ridiculous to shower with a bayonet, but she’d be damned if some black goop worm got the better of her while she was washing her hair. Lita sat on the floor of the shower, letting cool water run over her skin, and thought. She needed to leave herself just enough information to help unravel the Stranger’s world, but not so much as to alert his attention. And this young man she was supposed to wait for… “Rust and ruin,” she breathed, giving a tiny mirthless laugh. It was Reshilore. Of course it was him. He looked almost exactly like them both now that she thought of it. A bit softer in the jaw and cheekbones…softer in all respects, really. Sweet and harmless as a child. And Lita was supposed to… what. Unravel him? The thought gave her a cruel little thrill. Yes, she could do it. She would do it. She’d pull at all the loose threads she could find, unleash the hunger that the Shade found so compelling. And when he was free, perhaps he’d visit her again. Outside of a dream. Lita leaned her head back against the cool tile and felt a wicked smile spread across her lips. She’d have to forget everything to fill her Coppermind. But first, she’d have to remember it. …… There was something different about today. Lita had felt it as soon as she’d woken up, a sort of shimmering, liquid grace to the world. She’d felt it in her fingers as she plaited her long auburn hair over her shoulder - something she’d never done as far as she could recall. But today it felt right. She’d felt it as she selected her outfit, hand reaching instinctively for the deep purple dress she’d bought on a whim and never worn. Somehow it came as no surprise when it slid over her like a glove, back cut a bit too low and kick pleat cut a bit too high for a business dress. She grinned at her reflection, teeth white against lips red as claret, and stepped into her heels. Black today. Black and purple and the flash of gold as she slipped her coin into a hidden pocket. Mmm, yes. Definitely the right choice. Lita made herself a cup of tea, then stepped out of her little blue door and began to Alleytravel. The door to her office seemed to spring open at her touch, and Lita glided in on a cloud, setting her tea down and not even minding the stack of paper mounted in her in-tray. Then she picked up a little silver pen, glanced at the clock on the wall, and sent her newest agent an Alleycant message. “Good morning, Laurelai. Are you ready for your first interrogation?” The pen spun across her fingers perfectly. Lita arched her back in a luxurious stretch and smiled. Such a beautiful day - and it was about to get even better. It was time to go hunting. @Voidus

Tashi gave a tiny sigh and took a little bottle out from behind the counter. “You’re talking in the main room of my boarding house,” she said, pouring three glasses of light violet wine. “It’s not eavesdropping, it’s hearing. And I hardly care what you do for a living, as long as you don’t cause trouble here. This is a safe place - but not just for you. I’ve got a whole house full of patrons to look out for.” Tashi nudged the two glasses towards Roul and Sarian. “On the house.” @HOID WANTS INSTANT NOODLES @SymphonianBookworm

Tashi watched everything with mild amusement, though she began to store health as soon as the woman mentioned that she could “kill people.” That would be useful information, very likely, though hopefully not so intimately useful. Briefly she wondered which of the two - the koloss or the young woman - would be more likely to kill her in the night. Probably the girl. She had that slightly wild look to her. “Right, well, no killin in here and your business is your own.”

Uh… why would you wish to?

Tashi raised an eyebrow at the woman. She was clearly unused to manual labor, and Tashi was surprised she’d even agreed, lighteyed as she was. “Floors also need polishing if that seems less daunting, Brightness.” She grinned a bit crookedly. “And I do apologize if the lodgings seem poor. I also sleep in the back annex and there’s plenty of sheets for all, but if you want I can ask the guests if any would mind you kippin’ with them. Gotta keep the full rooms for paying customers but I’ll not turn a soul out in the cold if they have two hands.” @SymphonianBookworm

Tashi poked her head out from the kitchen, a smudge of flour on her deep tan cheek. ”Hello! Two more new faces and it’s tight quarters these days but I do think we’ve got a bit of space left.” Her eyes lingered on the koloss man, Roul. She’d met plenty of koloss blooded folk, but she’d never seen a true one before. Still, he seemed calm and cogent enough, and Heralds knew they needed someone to do some hard work around here. ”Roof needs re-tarring and some new tiles. Can you help with that? If ya can you can sleep in the back annex and all your meals are free.” @HOID WANTS INSTANT NOODLES @SymphonianBookworm

Got a sweet new iPad and the Procreate app so I naturally had to use it for evil. Cognitive Shade

Bennington caught a familiar gleam in the man’s eyes, an echo of the quicksilver madness that had so deeply permeated his Vivica. The thread that had once bound him to her now stretched forth from the Professor. Bennington drew on that thread, and a sip of insanity trickled through the bond. It tasted different - more body, more weight, more complex. He could get used to it. Yes, indeed he could. Bennington turned another loop, then allowed himself to blush a deeper purple for a moment, stretching toward indigo, elongating just enough, just a hint. A hint of that glacial rage, the blade of an infinite scythe of Nothing. A sense of memory. [Remember.] @Voidus

Between instants of time, there is a space, a divide between what is, and what will be. It is infinitely small, but infinite smallness is still an infinity. It is the perpetual liminality, the constant, looming threshold of the cosmos. It is the Endless Determinance, and that is where he waited. There was Nothing within the Endless Determinance. But he was used to Nothing. He had bathed in Nothing for endless eons, had watched whole star systems melt into Nothing, dragged into that ruthless, ravenous deepness until there was only Nothing left. Nothing, and him. Amidst the Nothing, it would have been easy to forget. To banish the brief and foolish foray into the world of time and men and mortality. To forget about coffee and metal and red, red, red. To forget about her. But there was something else hanging in the Endless Determinance: the thread. And the thread would not let him forget. It was impossibly slender, a gossamer strand that stretched off into the eternity of the Endless Determinance until it found, presumably, the doorway. It hung slack now, the slightest violet glow pulsing weakly through its length like the heart of a dying thing. He watched that glow move through the thread and then into his own body - which should have been impossible. But it was not impossible, as it was happening. That was so. He waited there. He was good at waiting. What was eternity to an eternal creature, after all? He did not fear madness, the same way a man did not fear a box of chocolate. Madness was food. He waited, and waited. There was Nothing. And then, like a kite reaching its end, the thread pulled taut. He was ripped from the Endless Determinance with terrible force. Nothing ended. Something began. He was floating in a small, dark room. Before him, at about eye level, was a blonde man who looked vaguely familiar. Various deep things that functioned roughly like memories flowed into place. Yes, he did know him. The Lonely God, the man who had been blinded by his only friend. The girl had been so very fond of him. The girl. Vivica. A cold and terrible thing moved within his spirit at the thought of her, his little Vivica. The bright spill of her mortal blood on the porcelain sink. The rending agony of being torn from her mind, from her very soul, by a slender rod of copper. And the deep icy grind of a rage that was older than Nothing. She had wanted to free this pitiful thing, this Nox. This man who had once been more than a man. He could do that. For her. And then he would bring to bear the weight of Nothing upon the mind of an arrogant godling. Bennington glided towards the man in the chair and turned a single, graceful loop. He pulsed violet. He wiggled his eight stubby tentacles. And there was Nothing in his eyes. @Voidus

The Boarding House thread is a nice all purpose place to start, there are some other people there as well so you could make in-character introductions and possibly find a plot line you’d like to follow

Oh hey thanks. Literally would not have noticed without you saying something Sounds good, please do let us know if you’re confused about something. It is a confusing place at the best of times, and there’s a lot of lore to assimilate. We are here to help!

Hmm right so the hemalurgic science guild is prooobably not the right fit. However we are the most likely to be able to help - if he could find someone willing to do so. Which is… possible if not probable. We might be able to work something out. This era is a bit different from the others, we’re sort of in an altered timeline. If you wish, you can retcon your character to have arrived earlier than the current era and have an alternate history, or have them arrive now in which case the current timeline is all they know of the Alleyverse. Both options have drawbacks and positives.

1. Actually, you need to get approved regardless, though if your character is well below the limit it’s safe to say approval will likely be swift. 2. Where to start is a bit trickier. It might help to know a bit of what you want to do with your character. Their goals maybe, or their personality. I can point you in a direction from there.

Wonderful! Eat it while it’s warm

Welcome @HOID WANTS INSTANT NOODLES, we’re happy you’re here! This is the place to ask questions and find your feet. Would you perhaps like a cookie?

Kindling

It hasn’t been officially canonized