ZincAboutIt

The Lonely God

Light That Casts Shadows

“Well,” Tashi leaned across the bar, then nodded towards the table. “That fellow in the far corner came in earlier asking for the Scholar’s Guild, said he had some questions about ‘strange things’ happening. Called himself Balance. Then not an hour later, the head of the Guild herself shows up - that’s her there, name of Alanis - along with one of her fellow guild members. Both of them covered in dust and soaking wet. Then that younger fellow comes in about the same time. Turns out they were all in the hospital when an earthquake hit, and someone set off an explosive in the lobby.” Tashi shrugged. “Strange goings-on around here. Makes a girl glad to have all her gold on her person at all times, is all I’m saying.” @Kvothe the Bloodless

“Ash’s eyes, where are my manners?” Tashi poured the man a glass of orange wine and tried to hide her flustered face. “I’m Tashi. Anything you need, you just call! And you? What’s you’re name?” @Kvothe the Bloodless

In a small room behind a pale blue door, Lita dreamed of a storm. Icy rain poured down in sheets, whipped into her eyes by a wind that turned the droplets into freezing lances. Lightning cracked in the sky, the bright white flare contrasting with the ruddy glow of firelight. All around Lita, the city screamed and burned. In her sleep, Lita turned, curling inward as though in pain. She winced, giving a soft cry, the phantom wound in her right side nearly waking her as another crack of lightning illuminated a wide, white smile. Lita hovered there on the edge of wakefulness, eyelids fluttering once, before her breathing steadied. She nestled into her pillow as sleep dragged her into another dream… … “Lord Montrell,” Forian called, his voice a charming baritone pitched just right to cut through the low buzz of conversation. Lita watched as a man in his middle years detached himself from a small knot of guests and made his way over to them. “Forian Tekiel, as I live and breathe,” Lord Montrell Hasting grinned and took a careless sip from his wine glass. A little wine leaked out into his beard, red staining the salt-and-pepper strands. Been drinking a bit too much already, my lord? Lita thought, making a note of it. That kind of information made all the difference in their line of work, and it was Lita’s job to find it. “I thought you’d left the city,” Montrell continued, still grinning as the three of them walked further into the ballroom. This was Hasting territory, and despite Montrell’s jovial tone, Houses Hasting and Tekiel had been waging a silent trade war for the better part of a year now. And Forian’s little smuggling gang was about to try and play both sides. “Monty,” Forian chided, snagging two glasses of wine from a passing server, “I thought you were above that sort of petty gossip.” He pushed one of the glasses into Lita’s hand, meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second. Lita had to resist a sigh. She already knew she wasn’t supposed to drink this evening. Too much depended on this event, and Lita needed all her wits about her. Lord Montrell gave a hearty chuckle. “Well then you don’t know me at all. Gossip is what I live for, my boy! Rumors are their own kind of currency.” His eyes flicked from Forian to Lita as she pretended to take a drink. Tin let her catch errant fragments of other conversations as they passed. “- the gall of the outer cities to propose tariffs on Elendel goods -“ “Have you heard Lady Ereinne was caught with the -“ “-won’t believe what they’re charging for a gown this season -“ “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, my dear,” Lord Montrell said, stopping at a high top table and leaning against it with only slightly more weight than necessary. “Forian, who is this delightful creature?” Forian slid his hand around her waist, coming to rest far too close to her bust than was proper for a Lord of means. “Just a little something I picked up in the Sixth Octant. Amazing the jewels you can find just lying around in the gutter. All they need is a bit of polish, isn’t that right darling?” Lita pulled the first stirrings of heat in her cheeks back into one of the brass cuffs in her ears, then gave Lord Montrell a soft smile. “Forian is well-practiced at polishing his jewels, my lord,” she said, keeping her face carefully blank. Montrell, who had begun to take another sip of wine, sputtered half of it back into the glass as he gave a belly-shaking laugh. Not a few people glanced over, and Lita couldn’t help but give the tiniest smirk. “Harmony’s Bands, but I like her, Forian,” he said between coughs, mopping at his cravat with a handkerchief. “Everyone here’s so rusting stiff all the time, I haven’t heard a proper joke in ages.” Lita chanced a sidelong look at Forian, whose amiable grin had fractured slightly into something much more sharp. There were two spots of color high on his cheeks, and he clenched his wine glass with white knuckles. Rusts. Wrong move, Lita. “Bring her round after the dancing and we’ll talk business, eh?” “Of course, Lord Montrell,” Forian said, taking Lita’s arm in a vice-like grip. “Now, do excuse us.” Forian tugged her through the crowd, and Lita had to nearly run to keep him from dragging her, dodging around guests and murmuring apologies as they went. She could hear the light ‘clack clack’ of her heeled shoes against the fine wood floor, along with Forian’s angry, huffing breaths. They arrived at the dance floor just as the string quartet was beginning a new song, and Forian pulled her close, his mouth inches from her ear. “What the hell was that?” He hissed, as they began to dance. Lita moved through the waltz mechanically, trying to stave off a rising tide of fear. Tin let her smell the wine on his breath, and the brandy from earlier. A vein jumped at his temple, nearly concealed by his thick black hair. “Lord Montrell is infamous for being irreverent, and he’s already three quarters drunk,” Lita whispered, hoping that if she could just get the words out fast enough, she could stem the tide of Forian’s fury. “I thought a joke might soften him up, and I was right. He invited -“ “What,” Forian said through clenched teeth, “did I say about thinking, Lita?” “You said-“ Lita swallowed a growing panic. She could fix this. She just had to give him what he wanted. “You said to-“ “To leave it up to me,” Forian finished. The music swelled, and he spun her before pulling her back in, gripping her right wrist instead of her hand and beginning to squeeze. Lita winced, biting her tongue to keep from whimpering. He knew she’d be burning Tin. That was the only time he ever hurt her. “Forian, please,” she whispered, the lights of the ballroom blurring as her eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’ll leave a mark.” Forian growled softly, but let up a bit. That would draw the wrong kind of attention, and he knew it. He took a deep breath, seeming to calm slightly. “Lita, Lita, my little dove,” he said, voice smoother but no less dangerous. “One would think you’d be a little more grateful, after I plucked you out of that hovel your father called a Soothing parlour.” Lita clenched her jaw at his mention of her father. “My father is a good person,” she whispered. Better than you’ll ever be, Forian Tekiel. Better than me. Forian laughed, all derision. “Your father is a fool. How long have we been using his basement to hide our wares? A year now?” He scoffed. “Just goes to show that emotional Allomancy doesn’t account for brains.” “Forian,” Lita gave him a warning glare. “I’m surely not the only Tineye here. You don’t know who could be listening.” “It seems to me,” Forian moved his hand up her back to rest at the nape of her neck, sliding one finger beneath the beautiful emerald and pearl choker he’d given her as a gift, “that this Tineye needs to listen a little better.” He tugged at the necklace, pressing the center stone ever so slightly against Lita’s throat. Lita stared back into his grey-blue eyes, feeling a seething anger building within her chest. “I’m not your whore, Forian,” she whispered. “You’re whatever I want, you little gutter rat,” he spat, leaning close enough that she could hear his pulse. “You slum-trash are all the same, desperate for a lick at the scraps from our table. I know you’d do anything to be where you are, you hungry little wretch. And you have.” There was a smug smile in his voice; Lita hated him for it, even as she loved him. The music was swelling to a crescendo, and as Forian spun her one last time, she felt a single tear trace down her cheek. “Now,” Forian said, his hand back on her waist, every inch a gentleman. “Are you going to be my good little Tineye?” Lita nodded, forcing herself to smile. “Of course, Forian,” she said, her voice small. “Whatever you want.” Forian returned the smile, reaching up to brush the tear away. “There now,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lita shook her head as the music began to change keys. The conductor called out the next dance, which would mandate a switch in partners. “Be good,” he whispered, kissing her cheek as he squeezed her wrist just once more. She winced, and he was gone. The new song began, and Lita stood dumbly for a moment before someone lightly took her hand, resting the other at the small of her back. She began to dance, still staring at nothing, until she realized how out of place she would look. Pull it together, Lita. This is no time to come apart. “My apologies, my lord,” she said, sniffing once and putting a smile back on her face. “All the excitement of this evening has me—“ Lita looked up, and her words died in her throat. The man before her was tall, cutting a fine figure in his black suit, deep purple waistcoat and matching cravat. All those deep colors were offset by a gold watch-chain that disappeared into his suit pocket, and a row of bright golden buttons on the waistcoat that reminded Lita of coins. A flash of gold at his wrist hinted at similar cuff links. The dark colors were a bit out of season; most of the attendees had dressed in greens, like Lita herself, or blues. But the deep shades seemed right on him. They accentuated his rich brown skin and tight black curls, which he had pulled back into a short tail. Some of the curls had escaped, giving him a slightly wild appearance that was furthered by his smile. It was white and sharp, and Lita was immediately reminded of the stories of sharks out in Hammondar Bay. He moved with all the casual grace of a practiced dancer, but somehow every inch of the man radiated danger. And then Lita looked into his eyes. She felt every hair on her body stand on end, and a deep instinct screamed at her to run. But Lita did not run; something held her there, drawing her like metal to a Lurcher. There was something so terribly familiar about this stranger, an assurance that she knew him. But Lita would have remembered a man like this, a man with one eye so black that it seemed to be sliced through reality itself, and the other replaced with a single silvery spike driven point-first through his skull. His smile widened, and Lita half-remembered curling shadows and whispered secrets, a white smile behind a pale blue door, a golden Coin in her hand. A stranger in her doorway. She shuddered, fear mixing with something hotter and sweeter. “I know you,” she breathed, and as she spoke it she knew it was true. The music swelled, and the man’s grin stretched even wider. “Good evening, Little Lita.” @Fatebreaker

Tashi shrugged, then pointed towards a table of four in the far corner. “They’d know better than I would, gancho. But as far as a meal and a bed, we’ve got Room 2 available, as long as you don’t mind sleeping next to the kitchen. I always liked a bit of music in the place. The phonograph is right handy, but there’s nothing like a song sung in person.” @Kvothe the Bloodless

Tashi noticed the man speaking to a patron well into his cups, took in the lute and the cloak. ”Evening!” She called, beckoning the newcomer further into the barroom. “You wouldn’t happen to be a musician, now would you? It’s the kind of night for a tune and a tale, with all these strange goings-on.” @Kvothe the Bloodless

@Kvothe the Bloodless era recap here:

Actually for character approval you’ll want Mac, Voidus, or I think I am here.

Tashi stood behind the bar and watched Balance and the two Scholars talk quietly, though Balance was keeping too close of a lookout for her to eavesdrop properly. She did not, however, miss the looks he shot towards the young man before her. She pretended as though she didn’t notice anything amiss, and began to sort a stack of Boxing notes into piles just to the left of the young fellow. ”Don’t look now, gancho,” she said, softly enough that only the young man - or a Tineye - would be able to hear, “but that strange fellow with the impossible money and the blue lines comin’ out his fingers has been eyeing you like a half-price caravan.” She placed ten one-Boxing notes down on their respective pile, then licked her finger to begin counting out another ten. “Normally I’d charge you for that kinda information,” Tashi went on, eyes flicking up to the table again for just a moment. “But a man ought to have his grief in peace, at least until he’s had a bit of liquor in him.” Tashi went on counting, and watching, and wondering how this City became so small and so big all in the same night. @Arlin

There was a light smell of smoke in the air as Lita entered her office, and she paused in the doorway, holding her hand up to keep Laurelai from walking into her back. Lita burned Tin, green eyes sweeping across the room, catching small details that felt…wrong. Her chair had fallen backwards, and there was a scattering of cold embers across her rug. That explains the smoke, she thought, walking into the room and crouching down to inspect the rug. The embers had fallen in an arc well away from the fireplace. Like they’ve been thrown. Lita flexed her left hand unconsciously, almost recalling the sensation of heat against her skin. There was a slight discoloration on the rug, and Lita passed a finger through the stain. It came back slick, almost greasy, and slightly dark in color. Had one of the Strangers gone through and trashed the place? The thought raised a wave of goosebumps over her arms, though Lita had no idea why. Besides, that was entirely unlike them - they delivered mail and occasionally did Acquisitions work. Lita didn’t even think they had real interests. Why would they scatter ashes and oil all over her rug? Lita stood and shook her head. “Rusting R&D interns,” she muttered, tipping her chair back onto its feet with the toe of her shoe. “Never can keep them out of my things.” She sat down, placing her chin in her hand for a moment before looking back towards Laurelai. ”I don’t know about you but I am knackered.” Lita pinched the bridge of her nose and extinguished her Tin, trying to stave off a rising headache. “You’re welcome to go home, or if you wish to try your Forgery method now you may use the laboratory over there.” She waved to a door on the far side of the room. “It should have all you might need. Tomorrow we investigate that tailor. Tonight, I have some things I need to get done.” Lita stared at her in-tray with mounting distaste, then pulled the first memo off the top. ”And Laurelai,” she looked up, giving a small, yet genuine, smile. “Well done today.” @Voidus

“Think I heard one of them mention a hospital,” Tashi responded, filing the information away. “Some kind of accident, then?” Someone might pay quite a bit for that kind of news later. She carefully opened the container of cookies, which had somehow miraculously avoided being ruined. They did look lovely, and it would be mighty cruel to turn down this poor lad’s offer. ”I’m sure everyone will enjoy these,” she said gently, tipping the cookies out onto a plate and setting it on the counter. “Thank you.”

Tashi looked over the despondent young man, his bedraggled appearance, and the little Tupperware container beside him. Then she looked over at the two Scholars Guild members. ”Is there a Desolation going on that I don’t know about?” She muttered under her breath, kneeling down behind the bar and parsing through her collection of bottles. The pleasant ambient ‘clink’ of glass filled the silence until she came back up with a slender bottle filled with an indigo liquid. She set a glass before the man, then poured him a generous - but reasonable - amount. ”This should let you walk out here on your own two feet,” Tashi said. “If a bit wobbly. Takes the sting out of a new wound, but not so much as to steal all your wits.” @Arlin

Tashi opened up the logbook again, then nodded. “Well, the clouds are not available I’m afraid, but Room 10 is. It’s slightly higher than the others, and the bed’s bigger - but don’t tell anyone.” She winked, then got out the key for Room 10. “My name’s Tashi, if you need anything just ask. Would you like a drink? Something to eat?” @Voidus

Yep as far as I can tell, the rest of the AV has not skipped Edited: The Alleycity Thread has now also skipped

“Knowledge,” Tashi muttered, moving back behind the counter and then into the kitchen. “What they need is food, and about four baths, and probably a bit of violet wine.” She ladled out two bowls of stew, then poured two cups of tea. Tea first, wine later. Tashi put all this onto a tray, then pulled a few old, slightly-scratchy blankets out from a closet and draped them over her arm. She carried all this back out and put it onto the counter. ”This is on the house,” she called to the two sopping wet guests, then looked back towards the tall red haired woman. @mathiau @Rushu42 ”Right, a room to let. Well, I hope you like excitement, Brightness! Are you looking for the first or second floor?” @Voidus

Tashi looked up at the woman who had strode over to the counter, blinking once as she took in her lavish dress and slightly overwhelming presence. “That we do, Brightness,” she said, feeling a smile begin as she imagined how well this woman would likely tip. “A fine selection of—“ There was a sudden knock on the door, and Tashi gave the woman an apologetic grin. “Do excuse me, sometimes people don’t realize the door isn’t locked during business hours.” She dashed out from behind the counter and opened the door, nearly choking as she caught sight of the bedraggled forms in the doorway. ”Flick my sparks, you two look like you’ve been to Damnation itself!” Tashi threw open the door and motioned to the pair, doing a double-take as she thought she recognized the face of the woman. “Well tie me up as a chull, Brightness Alanis? Is that you?” She looked over her shoulder to where Balance sat, brooding over his cup of water. ”What did I tell you, gancho? Said I’d find you the Scholar’s Guild, didn’t I? And in record time, too.” @Voidus @Rushu42 @mathiau @EmulatonStromenkiin

The Forgotten Daughter

Sorry to confuse!

I mean the latter. Once everyone switches you can move around as you like

Sure thing! Actually I’d guess that as long as everyone in a specific thread agrees you could probably call the timeskip. But you’d also be stuck in it if you did.

Hey @I think I am here. we are likely going to call a time skip of one week very soon. I wanted to tell you before you start up your side plot in earnest. We’ve been waiting for the current hospital thread scene to wrap, and Voidus is going to write a bit more with the Professor and Whisper. If you want you could probably just start your skip now, then the rest of us could catch up. But we wanted to have the plot span more than a single day

Ingenious, Lita thought, leaning against her dressing table as Laurelai detailed her method of Forgery-based investigation. Lita would have been embarrassed that someone in her department hadn’t thought of it sooner, if she didn’t feel quite so smug about having recruited Laurelai herself. The young woman was clearly a master at her craft; the hospital would employ only the best. And now she works for me. Lita raised a single auburn brow at Laurelai’s choice of attire - a satin evening gown wasn’t exactly covert - but then Lita had said she could pick anything. At least it was another confirmation of Laurelai’s good taste. Lita had worn that dress to a charity gala a year ago, and she was still milking favors out of the attendees. Enough satin and rouge and most people didn’t even bother to check who you were. They were too busy imagining who you could be in a few hours, with the right words. Fools, all of them, Lita thought. Humans had it all backwards. In the wild, the most beautifully painted creatures were usually the most poisonous. Lita had begun burning Tin, more out of habit than any real need for observation. It was a light burn, giving her just the slightest edge. The feeling of her Allomancy helped her relax, and it was shortly thereafter that Lita noticed Laurelai wiping at the mirror. Odd. There was nothing there; the staff kept this place almost inhospitably clean. Lita couldn’t drop a tissue in the wastebasket without it disappearing within twelve hours. She filed away the minor irregularity and pushed off the dressing table, passing Laurelai as she walked back into the main room. ”An exceptional idea, Laurelai. Do you require any materials? I’m sure I could have something delivered soon. The hotel might even have a Forger on staff who might have some of the necessaries.” Lita spotted her shoes by the front door, then paused when her tin-enhanced vision picked up a flash of silver from beneath the armchair where she’d fallen asleep. She stepped closer, kneeling down and reaching beneath the chair to reveal a long, thin blade. It was sleek and silvery, the edge catching the ambient light of the room with a wicked gleam. The handle was perilously short; it looked more like a bayonet than a knife, and Lita was sure she’d end up cutting her own hand if she used it with any force. That prickling sensation returned, and Lita opened her right hand to see the half-healed slash across her palm. Exactly the kind of cut made by that silver blade. What in the Survivor’s name…? Lita closed her hand and finished crossing to the door to retrieve her shoes, slipping them on and relishing the added height. Laurelai was a tall young woman and Lita felt a bit dwarfed standing next to her. She continued to inspect the bayonet, marveling at its lightness, how the metal almost seemed to glow. She’d have to take it to R&D, get them to confirm it’s alloy. Perhaps that’s where this had come from, some prototype sent out for a field test? The answer sounded right, but felt wrong. Lita pinched the bridge of her nose. What a day to be out of sorts. Rumors of oddities, a lead to follow, and here she was forgetting basic events like a novice. @Voidus