ZincAboutIt

Lita suppressed a laugh at the man's flustered expression, but allowed herself a genuine smile - a rarity for her these days. The street had dimmed considerably in the last few hours, but it still looked quite bright to her Tin-enhanced eyes; she didn't miss the color in his cheeks as he scrambled to get himself sorted. Lita filed his full name away into one of her Copperminds for later perusal - no harm in keeping the database well stocked, after all - and felt her smile turn a little mischievous when he complimented her costume. Behold, a terrible Denizen of nightmare stalks the streets, armed with a well-fitting dress. "Resh, it's a pleasure." She stepped forward and took his proffered hand. "I'm Lita. Well, I'm Lita most of the time." She gave a bit of a roguish grin. "Tonight, I'm the Coin. And you are..." Lita gave his black robe a cursory glance. "The Lonely God, if I've been reading my mythology right. How serendipitous! The creation meets its maker." Even as she said it, Lita felt an odd sensation on the back of her neck. She rolled her shoulders, then softly dropped the handshake, careful not to let any of her confusion show on her face. The feeling ended just as abruptly as it came. Probably that rusting alleyway still playing tricks with my mind, she thought darkly, vowing not to go back to that place again - at least not for a while. "Perhaps I'm just behind the times, but surely you're not spending the Festival sitting alone in front of a hat shop, are you? It's a terrible night to be without company." @Fatebreaker

Emotional Allomancy is super fun to RP but it does require a level of trust between you and whoever you’re writing with to work well.

It was proper night at last, the sun having pumped the last of its crimson out onto the horizon. Now, it was cooling into violet and indigo, and overhead Lita could see the stars winking into life, amplified by her Tin. She could feel the tempo of the city shifting around her as people drank more, thought less, and allowed themselves to be swept up in the night. The sounds of people laughing mingled with fragments of music, shouts, and whispers. Lita smiled and shoved the last dumpling into her mouth, unaffected by its piping hot temperature. That was probably the best part about Brass Feruchemy - instantaneous gratification. There was no tea too hot, no dumplings too freshly-steamed. And, she supposed, she didn't need to worry about dying in a fire. Probably more important, but thankfully far less practical in her day-to-day. She wandered in a path that would have looked aimless to anyone else, though Lita could tell where her feet were taking her even as she tried to deny it. It was more sensible, she supposed, to come here now than in the middle of the night, when she'd have to worry about someone trying to mug her. Or more like, when she'd have to worry about concealing the body of someone attempting to mug her. Better to get this over with now, and give her the rest of the night to work. Lita walked another block until she stood opposite a small, nondescript alleyway that ended in a brick wall. There was nothing particularly special about this place; it wasn't even an Alley. It was just... an alley. And yet, something always drew her here, whenever she was out in the city. Always, always, she found herself back here, staring down the dingy little corridor between two buildings. Lita stoked her Tin and focused on the little door that had been set in one of the alley walls. Something about that door always made the back of her right hand tingle oddly when she looked at it. She flexed it unconsciously, then crossed the street, weaving through groups and clumps of friends or neighbors until she stood right in the alley's mouth. Lita stared at the alley floor, anticipating what was about to happen, but still gritting her teeth when it did. That pain - sharp, sudden, and cold - lanced into her side like a knife. She lifted her hand to her right side, sliding her fingers along the lower outline of her ribcage. Of course, there was nothing there. There never was. She shivered. A raucous shout somewhere to her right made her spin around, heartbeat pounding in her ears. A girl dressed as a Windspren dashed by, her long blonde hair streaming behind her, as she was pursued by a young man in a Spymaster's bowler. Sloppy, Lita chided herself, forcing her pulse to slow, taking a few deep breaths to regain her composure. She was acting like a recruit, jumpy as a new bride. With one last glance backwards at the alley, she crossed the street again and went on her way. This time, her path really was aimless, eyes skipping over the crowds and shops and stalls for something to anchor her focus. Her heart still beat a little too fast, but no one else would know it now. It was foolish to let herself indulge this odd compulsion, especially on a night like tonight. She was better than this. She had to be better. A slight anomaly caught her eye as she looped back closer to the center of the festivities - a young man sitting alone, eating what looked like an alarming quantity of bao buns for just one person. Lita quirked one eyebrow and felt herself grin as she walked a bit closer, stopping at a respectful, yet companionable, distance. "You know, I'm not quite sure you have enough food there," she said, not bothering to keep some of the laughter out of her voice. "It's Festival night - no need to limit yourself like that." @Fatebreaker

"...and you won't believe what we found down there," the man said, lowering his voice conspiratorially before taking a sip of sapphire wine. Lita widened her eyes, leaning closer across the table, the very image of breathless, rapt attention. "What?" The man grinned what Lita assumed should have been a knowing grin, but what instead was definitely a leer. "Atium." Lita let her mouth open into a soft little "oh", as if the word 'atium' were enough to send her melting into the man's arms with little restraint. As if she hadn't been one of the first people in the entire city to find out about the atium cavern in the first place. The man settled smugly back into his chair and took a longer drink of the wine - hardly wine, really, but that's what the Rosharans liked to call it. Lita supposed it sounded more dignified than 'dyed grain liquor,' and Rosharans, especially newly-imported Lighteyes like this fellow, loved their dignity. They were seated under an expansive canopy that had been set up across the square from the main bonfire. One of the city's more upscale bars had turned their patio into a lush, upholstered paradise dotted with small high-backed tables, chaise lounges, poufs, and plenty of high-pile rugs. At a place like this, you could order pretty much anything - on or off the menu - and the waitstaff would trot it out for you easy as breathing. A couple in the back corner were grinding firemoss, and the young woman entertaining a party of older businessmen was either very drunk, or a prostitute. No other demographic smoked a hookah with such enthusiasm. Lita sipped her own drink, a heinously-sweet glass of orange wine that Kaldemar had bought 'to match her dress.' Tin had let her catch his order at the bar however, when he'd encouraged the bartender to 'add some extra white for luck.' Charming. Still, she'd been chasing this particular meeting for weeks. Through some stroke of fortune that had absolutely nothing to do with his wits, capabilities, or basic morality, Kaldemar had been appointed as the lead treasury liaison for Alleycity Excavation. It was a staggeringly stupid move on ACE's part, which had shocked Lita initially. Tycho Anvor, the aging founder, usually ran a pretty tight ship, and Lita had anticipated quite a slog to get even the most meager scraps of information on their share of the atium haul a few months back. But fate, it seemed, had smiled on her. Kaldemar smiled, too. He was rather handsome with his light yellow eyes, high cheekbones, and sleek black hair - an effect that was marred whenever he decided to speak. Or laugh. Or breathe too loudly. He and Forian would have gotten on famously, Lita thought. She spent a cheerful second imagining poisoning Kaldemar, then reached across the little table to touch one of his cuffs with the fingers of her left hand. Kaldemar did a terrible job trying not to look at it. "I've never seen it before," she said, breathless, letting her fingers slide closer and closer to the edge of his cuff. "The Lost Metal." She could hear his pulse. Lonely God, this man was supposedly some great womanizer, but Lita was half-sure he was about to have an aneurysm right at the table. Because of her left hand. "Y-you Scadrians," he stammered, his yellow eyes flicking from her fingers to her face with a frenzied rhythm, "and your m-metal worship. It's pagan, you know. Makes you," Kaldemar swallowed hard, "strange." Lita stopped the slow descent of her fingers, then allowed her face to collect itself into a slight pout. "Why Kaldemar, you wound me," she said. "And here I thought we were getting to be friends." For the first time, she let her own eyes focus on her fingers, which were now a mere breath away from the skin of Kaldemar's right hand. Then, with a sigh, she pulled her own hand away. "Still," she said, leaning back in her chair, "if I am still a stranger, then it's only natural there would be things we simply couldn't share." Kaldemar looked simultaneously furious and relieved. God Beyond, was he sweating? Dammit, Lita thought, slightly frustrated. It appears this might take a bit more finessing than I had hoped. She took another sip of her "wine," pretended to think, then stood. Kaldemar started, then stood as well. "Now wait a moment, I --" Lita reached into the neckline of her dress and pulled out a single white card, setting it on the table. "My rooms in the city," she said, meeting his eyes. "If you change your mind and decide you want to be friends. I've always wanted to know what it looks like." Kaldemar stared at her for a moment. "Atium, that is," Lita finished, smiling. "Get someone to read that card to you, Brightlord. And do have a pleasant night." She turned and slipped out of the patio, passing beneath the colored lanterns until she emerged under the stars. The noise of the square and the roar of the bonfire were a welcome contrast to the smokey silence under the canopy. Lita felt herself smile, and rolled her shoulders. The smell of woodsmoke mingled with something else... dumplings? Buns? She turned her head, stomach suddenly feeling very empty, and decided to follow her nose. Business could wait. It was time for dumplings.

Lita stood at the street corner where the old man had told his story, sipping a little glass of honey mead. She rested her back against the wall of a small shop that had closed for the festivities, shades drawn over the windows. He'd been one of the better story-tellers that she'd seen during a Festival; she was still puzzling out how he'd gotten the cremling into the black sand. Fooling a crowd of average people was easy, but fooling a Tineye was art. She'd especially liked the bit with the monocle; Mac had only ever worn the thing once or twice, but it suited him so well. The first time she'd ever seen him, she thought he looked just like an Elendel banker with his bowler hat and his starched collar, a cane tucked under his arm. He'd ordered something ridiculous at the tavern, something like sweetened milk or perhaps that fizzy syrup-water that some people liked so well in this city. It was all so absurd that she'd become instantly curious. And that curiosity had led her here. There was still a small pang in her chest when she thought about him, a grief that the people of this city could not understand. For all the grand talk of the old gods and the making of the world, at least some of the story was true. There really had been a man named Mac who had gone into the Alleys seeking what knowledge he could find. He had been the Spymaster in truth, and Lita had been one of his spies. And now he was gone. This city had a Spymistress, now. A tiny twitch in her left sleeve brought her back into the present moment, and Lita quickly finished the rest of her drink before slipping out a small sketchpad and a pen. She leaned further back against the wall, green eyes bright and keen behind her golden mask, and took the pen in her right hand as if to plan a rendering of the festival before her. She made the occasional vague sketch, actually doing her best to lay out the scene, but she was practicing a different kind of art. The pen moved in her fingers, and she twirled it in turn. To anyone else, she seemed a rich young woman with mediocre sketching talent. In truth, she was sorting through dozens of messages from all over the city. Today was one of the busiest of the entire year for her Department, a day tailor-made for an army of spies to gather reconnaissance, observe the city en masse, and check up on anyone who might cause trouble. And to keep some of the other departments under control. Lita grimaced and sent word across town for someone to watch out for anyone from R&D who had decided to go wandering outside the Alleys for "free samples." She'd already caught one attempting to sneak out one of the exit points. He'd been decidedly belligerent, even after she'd explained - for what felt like the hundredth time - that this is why they had an Acquisitions Department. 'But will they know what to look for?' He'd fretted, flapping four sets of clawed hands in obvious dismay. Lita had finally managed to send him on his way after threatening to bring in the head of the Acquisitions Department, but she couldn't help but feel as though her word should have been enough. She was a rusting department Head too, now. Senzho wouldn't have given Mac nearly as much lip - though she supposed that he had plenty to spare. Didn't these people understand that they were part of a secret organization that had to remain secret in order to function? It may have been the Festival of Rebirth, but there was a big difference between costumes and masks and a man in a bloody lab coat with two extra arms and a drool problem. Most people were alarmingly unobservant, but even the dumbest would notice that. Lita sent one last message to her army of underlings, then signed off for the next few hours. They had their orders, and they knew what to do with them. She flipped her sketchbook closed and slid it into a pocket, slipping her pen back into her sleeve. Lita smoothed the front of her golden dress, cut somewhere in the neighborhood of a Rosharan havah, but without that absurd safety sleeve. By the Lonely God, a woman was born with two hands, it was hardly some great mystery what was beneath the rusting sleeve now was it? Lita checked the security of the hairpiece pinned at the base of her auburn bun, careful not to poke herself on the radiating golden spokes, and smiled. She'd allowed herself a little more extravagance this year, and why not? She'd seen plenty of people dressed as the Coin already. She deserved a little leniency after a life spent skulking and sneaking. At least, that's what she'd told herself when she'd ordered the tailor to cut a rather generous slit up the right thigh. With a smirk, she pushed herself off the wall and began to move with the thronging crowd, her Tin pitched low and her Copperminds ready to log any information she might come across. Mac had entrusted her with this city, and she intended to make him proud. Maybe the gods had roamed this world once, long ago. Maybe the Lonely God and the Stranger and the Mother of Nightmare had indeed shaped this place of their own design, back in the dusts of millennia. But there was one part of the story that was decidedly true - there was, indeed, something lurking in the blackened shadows of this city's Alleys, and it was very much awake. Lita smiled and felt the edges of her grin sharpen just a little. It was time to let this city mingle with their favorite legend, and begin the shadow-work of secrets.

Cadmium is a seriously toxic substance, and while Allomancy technically burns off all the metal, I could see savantism leading to some symptoms of cadmium poisoning that slowly, slowly, worsen over time. A nasty business. Another possible weakness/downside could be some difficulty forming attachments with others. If you're always slightly fast-forwarding time, you might not be able to make a "here and now" connection with others, always slightly disjointed from real time, always looking to the next thing since you can make life speed up through the boring bits. A somewhat lonely, socially bizarre mindset could work in this case. Being present-but-absent all the time.

Lita watched the steam curl off the surface of her tea, her eyes barely focused, gaze shifted inwards. She slid the Coin, her Coin, out of her sock and began to walk its cool, heavy face across the back of her knuckles. Forward, then backward. Forward, then backward. "When I came to this city, all I wanted was a fresh start," she said softly, still watching the steam. "I was so tired of being a piece in the games of lesser men. A sharp tool in dull hands. An apostate of a weak god." Lita flipped the Coin and caught it, opening her palm to reveal the gleaming rictus grin of the spiked skull. "And now? Now I'm a piece on a different kind of board. But there is no escaping it, Laurelai. There is no other option. There are only the pieces on the board, and the hand that moves them. Everyone is trying to be the Queen, but even the Queen is a piece." She looked up at her friend, green eyes cold, pupils widening as she felt herself start to burn Tin. Too much Tin, Lita. Far too much. She shook away the doubt, her mind racing through the fragments of her memories. "I touched him, you know," she whispered softly. "I was so sure I was going to die down there, I could feel it like the breath in my own lungs. I felt the world narrow and stop. I felt it turn in that moment. I was supposed to die, and so I thought, 'What the hell?'" Lita began to walk the Coin along the back of her hand again, twirling it between her fingers this time, burning a little Pewter to help with the dexterity. "So cold." Lita flexed her left hand with the memory of it. "But he was real, Laurelai. He was real. There was a time when he was just like us - just another piece. That is how you win, Laurelai. It's the only way. You let yourself be played. Over, and over, and over. As long as it takes until you learn the rules. Until you can see the pattern. And then, you make your own board. You design the game. You decide who stands on which square. Who plays black and white. That is when you can keep the power that you find. When there is no one left above you to take it." "There is no other way across the board but to be played, and to watch. Watch how the hand moves you. However many times is required. However much of you is required. No matter what you have to do, or who you have to forget." Lita stopped spinning the gold Coin and slid it back into her sock, then picked up the grey one from where she'd placed it on the table. She cocked her head at it, studying its surface, before closing her fist around its face and shutting her eyes. I think you already know my greatest desire, she thought into the coin. I think you knew it that first moment you sat at my kitchen table and offered me all the secrets I could find. And I have made good on your offer. I've paid prices and reaped rewards that I could never have imagined. I have held the power I've always sought - but never for very long. Always, I've been in the service of someone else. Doing someone else's bidding. Finding someone else's answers. I want to be my own Tineye. I want to move the pieces on the board. I want to keep what I find. I'm tired of being the knife. I want to be the hand. She opened her eyes and let the grey coin fall from her palm, meeting Laurelai's blue gaze across the table. "We should get to work, I think," Lita said softly, feeling all the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The world felt tense, as if it were holding its breath. "Something tells me we're about to get moved across the board." @Voidus @Fatebreaker

FWIW I designed it as a one-time event of Atium production, it doesn’t continuously grow geodes. The supply in there is what is there.

Maybe the secret DA organized a cavern collapse or something to keep the rest of it for itself?

Quite keen on the idea of a nice background NPC government!

@18th Shard and @Rosharan A.C. If you want to continue the character discussion in the AV Character thread, come on over here. We like to save the Characters thread for only submissions and mod approval/requests.

Certainly not. Though, your character may end up looking conspicuous because they aren't wearing one. From what I can tell, the masking/costume aspect will be commonly held, so going without any kind of disguise could mark them out more obviously than otherwise.

A question for @Fatebreaker, how much of Era 4 is going to be remembered in the new timeline? Did any of it happen? Trying to get stories straight for a few of my characters.

I made some changes to Vivica's E5 sheet, but she has even less skills now and is out of the DA so it shouldn't be a problem. And Corette, who needed basically zero alteration to fit into the new timeline huzzah! @Sorana

*throws appreciation at Sorana like confetti*

The Professor's Daughter I'd like to imagine this hanging in Era 5 Voidus's very ordinary front entry room, where he does very ordinary things like line up his shoes, or fiddle with his umbrella, or think about what to cook for dinner.

As always, you're too kind :]

The familiarity of Laurelai's rooms was soothing after a day of so much novelty, and Lita allowed herself to relax just a bit when she heard the bubble of a tea kettle and smelled the powdery-sweet scent of the biscuits on their plate. Lita put her Tin down low and sat down as Laurelai stooped to pour them both cups of steaming tea. She watched her friend watch her quietly, taking the opportunity to envy Laurelai's perfect hair and unruffled blue dress. What a boon indeed, to be able to access Forgery without even carving a stamp. Crafting the perfect disguise, should it be needed. You were offered subtlety, her memory chided, but you chose something else. Lita could still sense the small reserve of Pewter in her belly as she slid a biscuit off the plate and picked up her cup of tea. Yes, she had made her choice, and she didn't regret it. Regret was pointless, in her estimation. She sipped at the tea, uncaring of the heat as she stored any excess in one of her Brass cuffs. "Yes, I think coffee is a safer bet," Lita said, setting down her cup and taking a bite of biscuit. She chewed quietly for a moment, thinking, then slipped the grey coin out of her pocket and set it onto the surface of the table. "Speaking of 'safety,'" she went on. "What do you make of..." Lita waved her hand through the air as if to encompass the entirety of what had happened. @Voidus

Of course you can! You can draw any Alleyverse -related art and post it here.

Thank you so much! I tried to highlight the parallelism here, so I'm really glad it came across

Faustian Bargain. noun. To “strike a Faustian bargain” is to be willing to sacrifice anything to satisfy a limitless desire for knowledge or power.

Lita plaited the last few inches of her long auburn hair and tied off the braid before coiling it into a spiral on the top of her head. She slid a few pins into the braid, then fit her flat cap over her hair with a short sigh. Red hair was distinctive enough even in this city, and the last thing she needed was someone marking her out while she wandered around. Lita pulled on her coat and took one last look at herself in the mirror that hung opposite her narrow bed. Perfectly ordinary, she thought with a small, satisfied smile. The cool weight of her gold Coin lay in its usual spot, tucked into her sock next to her ankle, and the newer, slighter weight of the grey coin sat in her pocket within easy reach. The Stranger wanted her to spy on the city itself. Well, it wasn't her typical reconnaissance job, but then, what was typical about the Stranger? She turned and walked to her door, stopping before reaching for the knob. Lita hesitated for a moment, then pulled the familiar Alleycant pen out of her other pocket, inspecting it and chewing her lip. Whatever had happened down in the tunnels beneath the city, Laurelai was the only person she could even begin to trust now. It would be foolish to go about this errand without at least consulting with her, forming some kind of strategy, before splitting off. Lita drew in a breath, then spun the pen in her fingers as she opened her front door and stepped out into the Alley beyond. Care to unpack the last several hours before we begin combing Alleycity for its core essence and intangible qualities? She sent, then locked her blue door and bent the world around herself, heading for Laurelai's quarters. @Voidus

It should absolutely be an actual metronome set into a hood, kind of Cryptic-style. Or maybe a clock mask. XD I'm making myself laugh over here.

If we want, we can semi-canonize a few of the archetype Festival Characters' costumes so that we can call out someone dressing as "The Lonely God" or "The Assassin," etc. I imagined the Lonely God costume as a long black robe with a shrouded face, maybe a black mask under it that is pretty smooth and featureless since Voidus is supposed to be "unknowable" in the mythology. For the Stranger, perhaps an eye patch covering the left eye and a long tattered grey robe? (Ah look, I have described Odin ) Does anyone have any other ideas? I might sketch up some little prototypes if I get enough cool suggestions. I'll be dressing up Lita as the Coin/the Sun, one because it fits marvelously with her storyline but also because I think she'd really enjoy the chance to dress up in something very flashy for once while still managing to blend in completely incognito. Quite a nice thrill for the secret DA's resident spymistress.