ZincAboutIt

Cool! You may want to hook up with some members of the Scholar’s Guild as they are also doing that. @Rushu42 and @mathiau can help you if you’d like

They are not. No one is aware, and if they become aware then they are soon wiped back to unawareness. Not even the DA knows about the Forgery, that’s part of what makes everything so fun.

So, basically this Era is a kind of alternate reality to the Alleyverse. One of the two founding entities (we’ll call them gods because it’s easiest) named the Stranger, decided to rewrite the history of the entire universe in order to give his friend, Voidus, the other god, a life unburdened with divinity, war, and the ceaseless stress of immortality. He achieved this by performing a Forgery on the planet itself, and it affects everyone on it. On paper, this world is perfect. There are no guild wars, no endless cycles of death and violence. The founding guild of hemalurgists, the Dark Alley (the DA), operates entirely in the shadows and the wider populace believes them to be a myth. They are left to their own devices to experiment as they please, and in general they do not cause much trouble. Life is good in the Alleycity. But the Forgery is starting to fall apart. Cracks are beginning to form faster than they can be resealed. People are beginning to remember their old life, and these remembrances cause the appearance of shadow creatures that effectively mind-wipe the person back to Forgery settings. However, things are still cracking. It is important to remember that if your character has no previous history in the AV then they would not be experiencing any aberrant memories. This version of the world would be the only version they know. Their main point of conflict would be interacting with people who do have an alternate history, or observing physical phenomena like earthquakes and other things like that. As the plot continues I imagine the physical manifestations will get much more drastic but right now it’s still subtle. Any questions?

Hmm, well then I’d probably recommend the Boarding House thread because it’s a decent place to get basic in-world information. Would you like a run-down of the current plot or do you have the general idea already?

Hmm, there are a few people in Mac’s Boarding House, that could be someplace to start. It also depends if you want to go off the idea that your character has just arrived in the AV or has been here a while. That will help to decide where to jump in.

Cat's Cradle

Alright then, a week it is! We’ll just declare it here after we all close out our ongoing things.

I realize this is a broken record but would we all like to discuss the possibility of a time skip once the current ongoing scenes wrap? I think getting it nailed down before they wrap would make the most sense because it will certainly take us a bit to decide on the time skipped. I propose a week, but I’m not married to it. Any thoughts? @Voidus @Fatebreaker @18th Shard @mathiau and anyone else with ongoing scenes?

As Reshilore reached out for the paper, something stirred in his eyes, something familiar. And for a moment, Reshilore looked very little like Reshilore at all. Vivica knew that look, that ravenous revelation, that spark of static energy that accompanied a true discovery. The look of a Scientist. He folded the paper quickly, slipping it into his pocket as though afraid it might be taken from him if he stared at it too long. Vivica’s eyes flicked upward, to where Victoria was attempting to calm Sanax. What a pretty drawing, Vivica mused. There certainly was an air of creativity about the place today. Perhaps there were some creationspren around? Her attention returned to Reshilore as he began to speak, his voice hushed and tense with anticipation. “Thank you for this gift, Vivica. May I ask where it comes from? Where have you seen this? Why are you giving it to me?" Then he hesitated for a moment before asking, even more softly. "Why are you in this place?" Vivica smiled again, and as she stepped closer Bennington began to swim sinuous loops around them both. She beckoned Reshilore closer, lowering her voice until it was nearly a whisper. ”It’s a recipe,” she giggled, setting one nail between her teeth and biting down gently. The nail bent with a pleasing give, then sprung back when she opened her mouth. “The most wonderful recipe in the entire multiverse. And I even included the secret ingredient.” Vivica winked conspiratorially. “The red river that gives and takes. Red red red, the loveliest color, don’t you think? I had all the red I could ever want, in the other life. That’s where I learned the recipe, Mr. Reshilore. It’s dripped and splattered and smeared on every Alley wall. Red frosting on white coats under a black black sky.” Vivica clasped her hands and did a little twirl, spinning in place. Bennington spun with her, weaving between the tendrils of her hair. “You remind me of someone I once knew, Mr. Reshilore. He had the most wonderful smile. That’s why I’m giving you the recipe.” She patted his pocket, now containing both the bindpoint chart and the gilded business card. Two very special things. ”And as to why I’m here,” she grinned. “Why, I’m mad, of course. And this is where you keep mad people, in this world. It’s too perfect here. No room for me. Mind’s like a cracked door, and all the dark is shining through. Dark dark dark. It spoils the pretty lights. We’re in a doll’s house, Mr. Reshilore, and all the colors are thrown through stained glass. But who’s keeping the floodlights on?” Vivica shrugged, then laughed again. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll keep your secrets. That’s what we’re all looking for, isn’t it? A secret that will let us change the world? Maybe your friend would accept a secret in return for keeping her waiting. If it’s good enough, she might even tell you one in return. Maybe even the one you’re most desperate to know.” She giggled, staring into Reshilore’s eyes with her pale blue gaze. “I like you, Mr. Reshilore. You’re like me. You let the dark in, too.” @Fatebreaker

You have largely described the current plot lol XD

There was an uneasiness in Laurelai’s eyes as she awoke, an echo of Lita’s earlier disorientation. Again, Lita felt as though she were forgetting something important, and again she dismissed it. Everything is fine, she thought, waving away Laurelai’s apology. Well, everything except somehow falling asleep in front of the newest acolyte. What would she think of her? At least Lita had been the first awake. At Laurelai’s mention of dinner, Lita felt her own hunger double. She turned back to the cart and uncovered the two dishes, revealing some kind of chicken cutlet covered in lemon sauce. There was a basket of warm rolls beside the plates, and Lita grabbed one without ceremony, tearing off a piece and doing her very best not to scarf it down like a complete savage. She wheeled the tray over to the table in the suite’s main room and laid out the two place-settings, stopping only to pour two glasses of cold, clear water. ”No more port, I think, or we’ll find ourselves asleep on our feet. Now please do come over here before I lose all semblance of propriety and devour my meal before you’ve even sat down.” As she waited, Lita mused over the fact that Laurelai had somehow managed to get the name of a man’s tailor but not the name of the man himself. Her lips twisted into a little smirk. Still, it was a good way to circumvent someone’s natural guard over their identity. People enjoyed bragging about their fine taste, usually forgetting that an exclusive tailor would keep detailed records of their “esteemed patrons.” A clever move. ”West and Carson isn’t more than five blocks from here,” Lita said as Laurelai sat. She spread butter over another roll. “I’d send a courier, but personal favors are best redeemed in… well, person.” As she went to wipe some butter off the edge of her nail, Lita caught sight of her right palm. She felt her smile falter, opening her hand wider to inspect a tiny red line that slashed diagonally along the center of her palm. It looked like a half-healed cut, though Lita would have remembered receiving such a wound. Her former feeling of unease returned, a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. A half-remembered instinct had her reaching into her left pocket before she could think to stop herself, and Lita frowned as she drew out a single gold coin. That’s right. She stared at it, that prickling sensation growing stronger. The coin. From the festival. But why had she kept it all this time? With a start, Lita realized how odd she must look, and she slipped the coin back into her pocket with a silent curse. “So,” she said, trying to cover the strange silence. “Is the food to your standard?” @Voidus

No, it’s more just he’s kind of holding her neck. It’s not so violent as that. Just cruelly, casually possessive. Like she’s an object.

My Little Tineye "Always a sharp tool in another's hand."

Lita could feel the memories leaving her, as though they were dripping down the back of her neck, down her shoulders, and into the two bracers of Copper on her arms. She began with the simplest, circling around the core of the Forgery and tucking away the stray thoughts, the random flashes of uncertainty, the odd feelings of the past weeks. She moved inward one ring, putting away anything she’d put together about the patients at the hospital, the earthquakes, and the other odd phenomena. She was careful to leave herself with enough to go on, but not enough to awaken her immediately. Careful now, Lita. One wrong step, and your work will be for nothing. She filed away that worry as well, continuing to siphon away her thoughts, her recollections, herself. As she moved further and further in, Lita found it harder to part with the memories. Meeting Laurelai in the Odd Job Tavern, the PlasmaCore party, the night spent in the ruined bar as gods fought. Those she filed away with shuddering fingers. One more ring, and Lita tore away her memories of cool blue water, a quiet grotto and the smell of wet stone. The screaming siren call of the Chapel of Rain did not go quietly, but even that memory was not at the core. No, there was one last thing she needed to forget. Lita could sense that core of memories, throbbing like a heart at the center of her mind, writhing, almost alive within her. It was the icy darkness of terror, it was the silken lure of secrets, it was the hot, molten hiss of rage, and the sweet rending ache of boundless hunger. It was Him, a god or a demon or a man who had tread on starlight and dipped his fingers into the abyss. It was cold, smooth steel meeting the heat of her blood. It was a golden Coin slipped into her palm behind a pale blue door. It was her fingertips on the back of a cool hand in a cave where knowledge itself poured down into a silent pool. I can’t, she thought, feeling the stream of memories slow. I can’t give it back, not again. You can, something whispered back. You have a choice. There is always a choice. Lita hovered there on the tipping point, her nerves as taut as a bowstring cranked too far. Too much tension; she would snap soon, and where would the arrow land? Lightning reflecting on steel, gold flashing behind. Cold rain soaking her through, and a smile too white and too sharp. So close, close enough she could hear his heartbeat. Measured. Implacable. Unstoppable. The time for weakness is past. Lita could have sworn she heard her own voice screaming as she plunged her hands into all that memory and shoved. The Coppermind drank it eagerly, as hungry as the Void. As hungry as Lita herself. It drank and drank until there was nothing left, no more aberrant thoughts, no discordant memories. Nothing left of the real Lita Attar, but one singular whisper. Wake up, Little Lita. And Lita opened her eyes. —- Knocking. Someone was knocking at the door. Lita blinked once, standing groggily before walking towards the door of her hotel suite. “He-hello?” She called. ”Room service, ma’am.” Of course, dinner. She had just called down for it, hadn’t she? After she and Laurelai left the Alleys because… because — Everything snapped into place, and Lita opened the door. A smartly dressed bellhop wheeled in a tray laden with a light dinner before nodding and returning to he hallway. She had ordered dinner after they had come to the hotel to follow the lead on the well-dressed man. The Grand was very close to the tailor, West and Carson. “Are you alright, ma’am?” Lita looked up sharply; the bellhop took a step back. “What do you mean?” ”I-it’s only just, well,” he blushed, reaching back behind his head. “I’m sorry ma’am. It’s just that you’re crying.” Lita reached up to feel that there was indeed a trail of wetness on her cheek. She brushed it away with one fluffy sleeve. “It’s nothing,” Lita said, giving the bellhop a generous smile. “Thank you for asking.” She closed the door, feeling as though she were forgetting something. Lita shook her head, then strode back over to the dinner cart. Must just be hungry. “Dr. Esserethel,” Lita called, striking one of the crystal glasses with the back of a spoon. A single pure note hung in the air. “Wake up. There’s no rest for the wicked, and we have work to do.” @Voidus

Of course you can! There’s a guide for new folks pinned close to the top of the forum, that should help you get started! Then the next step is character creation. If you have any questions please do ask! We love welcoming new people.

Vivica listened with half an ear as Reshilore spoke, which was rude, but it had been so long since she had drawn with red. Red, such a glorious color. The color of life, the color of death. The color of frosting. The color of finality. ”Blood,” Vivica whispered, drawing her nail through the crimson that had dropped onto the topmost sheet of paper. She grinned hard, feeling it stretch the corners of her mouth. It felt good to smile again, like she had in the other life. Reshilore seemed like he enjoyed a good smile. She continued to sketch, the blood seeming to awaken old memories, things she had known, or did know, or would know. That wasn’t important. What was important was the drawing. ”Oh I don’t know, Mr. Reshilore,” she said softly, her voice almost trance-like as images she had never seen in this life flowed out of her hand and onto the page. Symbols and numbers, the outline of a man, the Steel Alphabet. All in beautiful red. “I don’t think she’d have given you the card if she didn’t want to see you again.” The blood from her finger was drying up, her body already beginning to close the wound. Vivica could have made a new one, of course, but that tended to upset people. And it was rude to upset one’s friends. She looked up at Reshilore with eyes big as teacups. “You wouldn’t want to appear rude, now would you? Perhaps you could bring her something - to make up for the delay.” Vivica looked back at her handiwork with beaming pride. Why, it might have been her best drawing yet. Then, with a feeling both sorrowful and glad, she handed her half-remembered hemalurgic bindpoint chart to Reshilore. He needed it more than she did. ”Here,” she said, voice solemn. “You can give her this.”

It clashes with Laurelai’s cool undertones. edit: also, once the hospital scene wraps up we might want to consider a time skip. What is the amount of time that sounds good to people?

Lita nodded once, feeling her lip twitch at the acknowledgment. Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palm where the slender blade had sliced earlier. Blood welled up between her fingers. ”Yes,” she said, not trusting herself to say more. Fury simmered just below the surface, threatening to boil over again if she gave it too much thought. Lita wanted to scream, to break every mirror in the suite and crush every fine crystal vase. She wanted to take this false reality in her hands and tear it to pieces. She wanted to find the one who had done this and plunge her bayonet into the black pit of his eye. She wanted to make him suffer, see how he liked it. She wanted to — she wanted - “… but yours wouldn't last long, but maybe long enough that if you're not actively trying to recall it anymore we can get by. No doubt you're clever enough to notice the strangeness but perhaps we'll chalk it up to the other oddities?" Lita blinked as she realized Laurelai had started talking again. “Hmm? Oh, y-yes, fine, fine. Stamp. Good idea.” She cleared her throat and took another drink, trying to piece together what Laurelai had been saying. Too much port, she told herself as she ran a hand through her damp hair and pulled the heat in her cheeks into a brass ring on her right hand. Too much Tin. Her head pounded, her mind oscillating between two opposing versions of her life. Her right side throbbed with a dull, insistent ache, muscles strained from so much tension. Something dark and poison-sweet coiled in her core, fear and fury and exhilaration and the irresistible lure of a secret just out of reach. It was too much, and in that moment she wanted nothing as much as she wanted to lie down and sleep. But she was Head of the Department of Counter Intelligence, and there was work to be done. Lita took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it into the silence. When she looked back at Laurelai, the blonde had transformed into a well-pampered version complete with a fluffy robe of her own. "I don't suppose we'd have time for room service first would we?" She asked with a hint of a grin. Lita smirked. “I think that can be arranged.” A quick call down to the front desk had a light repast on the way. “But we should hurry, before the shadows catch up to us.” And before I lose my nerve. ”It isn’t so bad,” Lita forced a grin. “Just think, by the time dinner arrives, we won’t even remember this conversation. We won’t remember…” Lita trailed off, looking at her friend. We won’t remember us. A sudden heat pricked the corners of Lita’s eyes, and before she could stop herself, she had crossed the distance to Laurelai and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “We will fix this,” she whispered, so earnest that it hurt. “We will find ourselves again, I promise.” She pulled back, wiping her bloody hand across her cheek, and looked into Laurelai’s eyes. Blazing green met icy blue. “I promise.” Then Lita stepped back to her chair, sat down, and forgot. @Voidus

Yeah I think 18th Shard mentioned that Alley 0 could go missing and that could possibly cause all the Alleys to have the potential to warp into something else entirely given enough time

I had another idea for next era, but it could be ridiculous. Going off the sort of “post-Forgery instability” vein, and the idea of Alleys behaving more oddly or “coming alive,” perhaps Alleys could begin to appear in places that aren’t actually alleys. Like a closet or a dark hallway or any narrow dark space. And the Alleys themselves are sort of…hunting. Like they devour whoever walks in or something. This could potentially happen even within the Alleys themselves, like the Alleys are Alleytravelling. This would make things difficult even for the most powerful DA characters and also involve the wider community.

Vivica stared intently at Reshilore as he attempted to guess, finally breaking into a beaming smile as he came to it at last. ”Yes!” She cried, giving a tiny hop. “It’s Bennington!” Then she looked up and to the side, where Bennington was glowing a very proud violet indeed. “See, Bennington, I knew he’d guess it!” Vivica looked past Reshilore to the newcomer in the hall. She had a familiar look, a friendly look. Vivica could definitely imagine her in a baking coat. “Hello! You came in just in time. We are playing a guessing game, and it is turning into a real corker.” @kenod She was about to hand Reshilore a new piece of paper when Bennington, who had begun to swim more loops around the man, stopped at his side and pointed at something. Vivica cocked her head, moving a bit closer. ”Bennington? What is it?” Bennington swam another loop, then pointed again. Vivica rubbed her nose. This was most unusual, but then, Vivica liked unusual. ”Mr. Reshilore,” she said as she shuffled blank sheets of paper, licking her finger as she got a rather deep paper cut, “I do believe there is something very interesting in your pocket.” @Fatebreaker

Lita froze as Laurelai enfolded her in an embrace. She wasn't sure what she'd expected from the slender blonde, but it wasn't that. Her first instinct was to pull away, to step backwards, but she stopped herself. One moment, Lita thought as the other woman spoke. I can be weak for one moment. She allowed the steel in her spine to soften, the frost that had crawled into her heart to thaw, and Lita returned the embrace. A warmth sparked somewhere in her chest like she was tapping her Brassminds, and Lita remembered what it was to have a friend, and to be one. She remembered fine spirits and laughter amidst the smell of soot. She remembered Laurelai's cold hand in her own as they stood before the silent waterfall in a grotto far beneath the earth. I missed you. She almost said it. She should have said it, but Laurelai had gone on to speak again. "Why do we need to worry about what they wanted or expected us to do? You are not the Stranger's pet, and you are far more than simply his protege. And I am much more than just the daughter of an ancient demigod." That's right, Lita thought as Laurelai stepped back. She has her own reckoning to contend with. Lita did not envy Laurelai that realization, to recall that her own father was in fact the most powerful creature on earth. Laurelai continued on, more animated and passionate than Lita could remember seeing her before. Lita made herself smile in the appropriate places, presenting the facade of being bolstered by her friend's words. She should have been. Lita reached out for her newly-repaired glass of port, taking a moment to appreciate Laurelai's returned skill, then slid her left hand into the pocket of her dressing gown. Her fingertips met cold metal, and she shivered, pulling her hand back. That Coin had found its way to her through its own maker's elaborate Forgery, tossed by a street magician she had never met. Rage stirred again within her, curdling in her stomach as it mixed with a familiar sense of longing fascination. Lita withdrew the Coin and danced it over the back of her hand, wincing as pain lanced through her right side - sharper than before. Will you never stop haunting me? A whisper answered, though whether from the Coin or from her mind, Lita could not tell. "Is that what you want?" She rolled her neck to hide another shiver, taking a sip of port. No. Damn her for a fool, but it wasn't. "We have some drinks and talk about what we want to do." Laurelai said, back straight and proud, a smile on her lips as she handed Lita the glass back. "So, spymistress, we're no doubt being chased by shadows that want to rob our memories, the world is slowly collapsing and two of the most powerful men to have ever existed are both locked in a near-infantile misunderstanding of their own emotions. I'm at your disposal of course, so what should we do?" Lita smiled again, but this time it felt real. Perhaps... perhaps she wasn't entirely a fool. She dragged up one of her sleeves to reveal a thick copper band circling her arm. "What we need is a place to keep our real memories without losing them. Helpfully, Mac made me a Keeper in this world before he left. I can get you an unkeyed Coppermind for yourself as well. It will be a dicey thing, but we should do it sooner than later. Who knows when those things will return?" She headed over to a large rolltop desk and began fiddling with a combination lock, rolling up the top after it clicked into place. Lita opened another, smaller drawer and removed a copper ring. "We will need to play this perfectly, but if we can manage to follow our original line of investigation - with help from our real selves of course - we might be able to unravel this web." Lita strode back across the room and handed the ring to Laurelai. "If we manage not to go insane, of course." @Voidus

Trying out a slightly different style

Lol yes the Stranger is the one responsible for this entire plot arc XD