ZincAboutIt

Lita grinned in satisfaction as Laurelai began rifling through the wines, pleased that she had successfully found a crack in the woman's icy armor. Usually, the best way to get a secret was to give a person what they expected. But occasionally, upending their expectations worked just as well - if not better. And it had been an awfully long time since Lita had simply been able to talk to someone. Someone who wasn't her employer, or her target, or a shadow, or a god. Just a colleague. An equal. "So. It's your idea, so I suppose it's only fair that you get to ask first." Laurelai managed to get the cork free with a satisfying popping sound an poured herself another glass. "Fire away." Lita nudged her own glass towards Laurelai, feeling her grin widen. Clever, waiting for me to go first. Well, Lita supposed she deserved it. That's what she got for being candid. Curiosity pushed her towards asking about Laurelai's Forgery, about the odd things that happened every time she used her power, about her strange ability to Forge without the tools and stone. But she still had sense enough to hold back on that account. That was a deep secret, and not one to lead with. Something easier, then. "I feel as though you know rather a lot about me - where I'm from, what I did before I joined up, all that." She waved a hand. "So, what did you do before you were 'spiked publicly'? Which, by the way, I fully intend to follow up on. Must have been quite the party."

"Some things are worth any price." It was barely perceptible, but Lita could hear it in Laurelai's voice. Uncertainty. Lita burned a little more Tin and braced for the pain, covering her wince with a quick drag on her cigarette. She watched the other woman smile at her, and if Lita hadn't spent the better part of the last week in her company she doubted she'd have seen it, but it was there. Buried beneath years of practice, and magic, and natural aloofness - but there. A slight tightness in the corners of the eyes. A moment of thought before action. A lie. Lita blew the smoke over her shoulder, noticing that the world was moving slightly slower now. She could feel the alcohol working its way through her blood, numbing some of her pain, removing some of her caution. Laurelai had finished her second glass of port and poured herself a third. Right, Lita thought. You've got questions, and so have I. Let's begin drinking in earnest, now. She reached over and tipped the last of the port into her glass, then set the bottle down with a heavy thunk. Lita lifted the glass to her lips, savoring the sweet, heady liquor and feeling herself relax just a bit more. Then she sighed and fixed Laurelai with a knowing look. "It's hard, isn't it? Turning it off? The secrecy, the duplicity. Always wanting an edge - always keeping one step ahead of everyone else. Knowledge is power, after all, and no one wants someone having power over them." Lita pointed at Laurelai, then at herself. "It would be terribly naive for me to assume that you trust me; likewise, you're far too clever to believe that I trust you. However," she raised one finger. "I have had a ridiculously long day, and two glasses of port, and my judgment isn't exactly what it usually is. I'm willing to bet that you have had a similarly long day, if slightly less... well, slightly less of a long day. So, in the interest of good company and excellent liquor, I propose that we bend a few of our rules. We both have questions for each other, and it's the end of the rusting world, and there's bound to be another bottle of obscenely-expensive alcohol lurking around here somewhere." Lita raised her glass and winked. "Are you in?"

Lita covered her surprise at Laurelai's acceptance of the offered cigarette by taking another sip of port, listening to the other woman speak. She nodded when Laurelai mentioned freedom, flicking a little more ash onto the ruined floor before sucking in another breath of smoke and letting it pour lazily out of her mouth to join the rest. Freedom was its own kind of power - one of the rarest. Lita had been surprised at the level of freedom she'd already been offered in the Dark Alley, so different than the usual bowing and scraping of life in a gang. Hell, of life in general. Even Voidus and the Stranger, who were arguably gods, seemed uncomfortable with too much deference. This was a place of discovery, of pushing limits - or of obliterating them altogether. "Sometimes I wonder if we really know the price we pay." Laurelai spoke quietly, halfway in and halfway out of her own thoughts. 'Then let me look at you, one last time.' The words bubbled up through the growing haze in Lita's mind, a memory of darkness, of nothingness. Of her father, begging her to turn to him. Yet she had hesitated - hesitated for her father. You were quick enough to answer the Stranger's summons, that little voice whispered, sharp and cruel as poison. It wasn't real, she told herself, taking another swallow of port. None of it was real. Her father was back in Elendel, living out his days in peace, running his parlor and fleecing his friends at their weekly card games. It would do Lita no good to dwell on that life - she had known what she was giving up when she killed Forian. There was no going back now. Lita flipped the Coin and watched the Skull wink its spiked grin at her on both faces. It's stopped changing, she realized, catching it and examining the cool gold disk in her palm. As always, it felt heavier than it ought to for its size. "I think a few might," Lita finally answered, still looking at the Coin. Your father might, she was tempted to say. But Lita kept those words inside her head, which she was rather keen to keep on her shoulders. "Still," she said instead. "Even if you knew the price - the true price. Would you resist? Would you refuse the chance to peer behind the curtain, to rend the truth from the world? The real truth. The kind of secrets that can make something like this," Lita held the Coin up between two of her fingers, "in a mere moment? The kind of secrets that let you bend the world around you into whatever shape you want?" Lita pulled more smoke into her mouth, feeling the slight pain of the heat against her tongue, relishing in its sting. She blew it out over the bar, watching the plume dance around the many bottles on Malu's deserted shelves. "People like to claim that they have morals, but I've spied on enough people to understand: people do not have morals, they have fears. Fear of damnation, fear of retribution. Fear of the law, or fear of rejection. It is our powerlessness that makes us so afraid." Her hand moved towards the ache on her right side, drawn to the steel between her ribs. "When you remove that helplessness, you can do as you wish. Break the rules, re-write the rules. Rusts, erase the rules!" Lita leaned forward, feeling her mouth curve into a sharp smile. "Tell me, even if you knew what it would cost. Would you say no?"

Spiked publicly? Lita raised a brow at that, making a mental note to research the event. Laurelai finished her glass of port, staring down into the bottom with pensive reverie. "Have you regretted your decision?" Laurelai asked, voice light and somewhat-distant. "Have you found your deal to be favourable?" Bit late for regret now, Lita thought, though she said nothing. Instead, she tipped the last swallow of port into her mouth and set the glass next to Laurelai's. The truth was, she didn't regret it - despite the pain, and the terror, and the sheer unfathomable depth of it all. It terrified her, this surety, this fire. A craving that could devour her, body and soul. She knew it in her heart, knew that she was walking a slender tightrope. A path that only led away - away from who she had been, and towards...what? "I have my fair share of regrets," Lita said quietly, reaching for the bottle and pouring herself another measure of port. It glistened dark and red in the low light when she raised it to her lips, and tasted sweeter than sin. "But this isn't one of them." She set the glass back down on the bar and sighed, then fished around in the inner pocket of her coat, which was now completely dry. Her fingers brushed against something in the breast pocket, and she smiled, drawing out the little cigarette with half a flourish and setting it between her front teeth. Lita checked her brassminds - mostly empty from earlier, though there should be enough... "Ready to see my party trick?" Lita said, raising her brows with a little giggle. The tips of her index finger and thumb almost seemed to glow as she pinched them on the end of the cigarette, and she winced a bit at the heat, pulling it back into her reserve as soon as the end started curling smoke. Lita sucked in a quick breath, feeling the dry, acrid taste of tobacco and clove fill her mouth, then tipped her head back and blew the smoke up towards the charred beams of the ceiling. She looked back to Laurelai with a little smile. "Want one? I only ever smoke after a disaster." Lita pulled another cigarette from her pocket and set it on the bar before continuing, "As to my 'deal,' well... it was hardly a delight but you said it yourself. Power comes at a price." She tapped some ash onto the floor and took in another breath of smoke. "Anything worth having comes at a price. It's rather refreshing to be amongst people who understand that, and are willing to pay." Almost unconsciously, Lita's hand snaked down into her boot, pulling the Coin out of her sock and dancing it across her knuckles. "Remarkable, really," she murmured, not quite sure what she was referring to. The Coin? The Stranger? The Alleys? The last week in its entirety? Lita took another long sip of port, deciding to let that secret simmer for a moment.

Lita cocked her head at Laurelai, observing the way she slowly began to uncurl as she spoke. There was a weight to the process, like she was almost physically removing the many walls, mirrors, and facades she kept between herself and the world. Lita took another sip of port and nodded almost imperceptibly. Yes, she knew that game all too well. How much to keep back, how much to show - which version of oneself to present in order to obtain the right information. It became easy to lose oneself amidst all the fiction, and Lita imagined it would be even more precarious with the ability to quite literally Forge oneself into something else. Someone else. "And what about you?" Laurelai directed her light blue gaze over the rim of her glass toward Lita. "Were you really just looking for a job?" Was I? Lita tapped one fingernail lightly against her glass and thought back to that afternoon. "Yes," she said finally, "and no. Yes in that I had just finished a long contract job a month back, and I was running rather low on funds. Crime, as they say, does indeed pay, but never quite as much as one hopes." She took another, longer sip of the port, smiling at the pleasant warmth spreading through her throat and belly. Bless you, Malu, for stocking such excellent spirits. Then she sighed and began undoing what was left of her braid, running her fingers through her hair. "But I meant what I said to you and Mac, believe it or not. Even spies can be honest on occasion," Lita grinned crookedly and split her hair into three sections, pulling them over her left shoulder to plait them. The familiarity gave her some comfort as she spoke. "Listening at keyholes, reading confidential contracts from across the room, tailing a man on behalf of his wife, tricking pillow-talk out of minor constables..." She waved one hand dismissively. "Dull, after a while. Everyone has the same secrets - people are largely unremarkable in that regard. I suppose I was looking for something... else. Something more." Lita raised the glass in Laurelai's direction. "I'm not sure what made you mention the Dark Alley, but your timing was impeccable. Actually," Lita took another sip, curiosity and alcohol pushing her forward, "what did make you mention it? You seem like someone who plays things rather close, and I should think that membership in a dangerous organization would count as one of those 'things.'"

Lita raised her brows with a wry smile. "I'll drink to that," she said, clinking the rim of her glass against Laurelai's before taking a sip. "Oh by the Survivor that is gorgeous. I'll just take this," she grabbed the bottle of Lord's Vintage by the neck as she came back out from behind the bar, moving towards Laurelai. "I have a feeling we'll be doing quite a bit more toasting." She surveyed the tavern with a critical eye - seating was at a minimum when it came to tables and chairs. It looked like the snug in the back was potentially un-demolished, but that would put them an unacceptable distance from more liquor choices. Her eyes fell on two barstools, and she smirked, sliding into one and patting the other. "I believe this is where we met," Lita said, taking another sip. "What was it, a week ago? Rusts I feel like I've lived half a life since last week." She cupped her chin in her hand. "What were you doing here, anyway? Just out for a drink, or about other business?"

"If we're really lucky," Laurelai said, "we'll find an open bar too, I could really use something from the top shelf." Lita felt her mouth twist into a dry little smile. I could use the whole shelf, she thought, though she kept that bit to herself. There would be time yet for candor; many secrets were found at the bottom of a glass. Or several glasses. The Storm had finally broken, rain and wind dying down first to a shower, then a sprinkle, and then, blessedly, to nothing at all. Lita noticed a slight dim in the sharpness of the world around her - without the Storm, her Tin would behave like it usually did. For once, she didn't mind the slight reduction in sensation as her new spike continued to throb like a little star shoved between her ribs. She was halfway through wringing out her braid when Laurelai made a small motion with her hand, and suddenly she was as dry and clean as if she'd been back in her quarters behind the blue door all these hours. Lita smiled at Laurelai as they rounded another corner. "Now that is a talent," she said, not a little envious. Still, she preferred her own talents - old and new. Her smile only grew as they turned the last bend and came to face the Odd Job Tavern in all its ramshackle, half-demolished glory. "Tavern's still intact," Laurelai said, voicing Lita's own surprise. To her further bafflement, a small string of pink bubbles emanated from Laurelai's mouth with each word. "I..." Lita stared at her for a moment before shrugging. Later. "'Intact' is a bit generous," she said, picking her way through some rubble that looked like it had come from one of the front walls. There was a sizeable hole in wall, through which Lita could see some tables and chairs overturned, broken glass, and a large char mark. Still, it was standing. Hopefully, some of the alcohol had survived. Lita upped the burn of her tin and put her finger to her mouth, motioning for Laurelai to follow her. This was still a warzone, though the surrounding streets seemed quiet. The neighborhood had clearly been evacuated already - either that, or brutally slaughtered en masse, though Lita doubted it. She'd have smelled that much blood even without Tin. The tavern appeared deserted as she ducked through the hole, and shards of glass crunched under her feet. Lita walked up to the bartop proper, quite pleased to see the majority of Malu's liquor selection still present - though Malu himself was nowhere to be seen. "Looks like he cut his losses," Lita said, tracing her finger along the message carved into the fine wood of the bar with a sigh. "Still," she said, hopping up onto the bar and sliding her legs over the other side to drop down before the expansive shelves of alcohol. "His loss is our gain." She stood on tiptoe and reached for a promising-looking squat, dark bottle with a long neck, nudging it off the uppermost shelf. It fell softly into her waiting hand, and she turned back toward Laurelai. The label was easy to read even in the low light, though she should probably find a candle for Laurelai at least - not everyone had Tin. "Aha," she said, grinning and ducking down to pull two glasses out from beneath the bar. "Just as I thought - Elariel Estate port, 'Lord's Vintage.' I had this at a party once - rusts it was smooth." She pulled the cork out with a satisfying 'puh' sound and leveled a generous measure into each glass and raising one. "To what shall we toast?" @Voidus

It's not as epic in scope as Era 1, but as long as you take it as its own thing, Era 2 is wonderful. I'm hugely biased toward Scadrial in general though, anything set there has my heart. Plus, the Metallic Arts are the coolest of Sanderson's magic systems in my opinion!

I'll leave off the WoK talk till you're done reading and focus on Mistborn, which is my favorite series by Sanderson! I love Kelsier, he's probably my all-time fave out of any of the books, but when I first read Mistborn (many years ago), Vin left the deepest impression on me. I also love TenSoon <3 Have you read any of Mistborn Era 2? I highly recommend it!

Hello and welcome! Have fun looking around, this community is wonderful. Whatever you end up eating, we're glad you're eating it here Who are your favorite characters?

Lita watched Laurelai compose her features back into their typical careful, cool arrangement and felt her own smile turn a bit devious. The Storm was still tearing through the city, and the streets were dangerous. As Laurelai had said - there may yet be some lingering monsters out there, or the approaching hoard might begin trickling into the city in earnest. Lita had never been one to walk into a warzone. And yet... She looked down at the spike peeking out between her ribs, the ache still hot and fresh, stoked by her light burn of Tin. I'm hardly the same girl that I was two years ago. Hell, she was hardly the same girl she was two days ago. Lita checked the new metal reserve within her, assessing that she still had a decent chunk of Pewter left, especially if she didn't keep it burning. She slid the Coin out of her pocket and pushed it back into her sock, feeling the cool weight of the metal press against her ankle, ready should she need to tap Gold, or make a hasty getaway back into the Alleys. For what was possibly the first time in several years, despite her pain, despite her fear and the fact that the city was an open battle ground, Lita actually felt a modicum of safety. Of control. My new reality indeed. Lita stepped forward, taking Laurelai's outstretched hand and walking towards the mouth of the alleyway. The woman's fingers were cold, slender, and slick with rain, but rusts there was such a simple glory in just touching another person. Contact, familiarity. Friendship, maybe. Maybe. Lita smiled again as they left the alley. "It is a lovely day for a walk," she remarked, making sure to raise her voice a little louder than seemed necessary to her own Tin-enhanced ears. Out in the rain, it would be much harder for Laurelai to hear her. She wasn't speaking with the Stranger any longer - it wouldn't do to murmur and whisper into the howling squall. The wind whipped more hair out of her braid, and she imagined what they must look like: two young women, hair in ragged tangles, soaking wet, at least one of them bloodstained, casually strolling through an apocalypse. Lita giggled, and then the giggle spiraled into something louder. She laughed in truth, looking over at Laurelai, then up at the Storm, groaning as the motion jarred her new spike. But it was all just so absurd. "One good thing about a day like today," Lita said between giggles. "I'm pretty sure we'll find plenty of open seats at the Tavern." @Voidus

Lita let her head fall back against the wall a little when she saw the Stranger disappear, caught somewhere between relief and disappointment at his absence. Mac was absorbed with business of his own, and Deteca had appeared to leave the alleyway. For all intents and purposes, she and Laurelai were alone. She allowed herself a small sigh. "Power always comes at a price." Laurelai said. "Though I'm thankful that the price for me hasn't been as bad as that yet." Don't I know it, Lita thought, wincing again as she shifted a bit. Sleeping was going to be hell for a while. She looked down at her torn shirt, at the steel spike gleaming between her ribs in the low light. The smile returned to her lips as she recalled the way her fist had smashed through the door. Worth it. "It appears that we've been left behind again," Laurelai said, and Lita looked up again in time to see her nod towards where the Stranger had vanished. "Not sure if that's a good thing or bad. Do you think they'd notice if we ducked out for a drink? You look like you could use one." Lita caught a small smile pass over Laurelai's face as she looked pointedly at Lita's soaked, bloodstained form. Lita snorted and tucked a soaking strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, well, I daresay we've both had enough water for one day." She gestured around them as the Alleystorm continued to blow sheets of freezing rain through the streets. "I think now is as good a time as any to switch to wine. Or something harder, if I'm being quite honest. After all," Lita gestured towards the spike in her side and smiled thinly through the ache, "I have just been promoted." Lita cast a look at Mac, then back to Laurelai, and shrugged. "Where did you have in mind? We can report anything we see happening in the city on our way - as any true spy worth her metals would." Lita winked and spread her hands. "Reconnaissance." @Voidus

The Gallery will not accept this image so I'm sticking it here until I figure something out

Lita was still staring at her hand when Deteca mentioned her by name and turned to leave. She felt her head tilt to the side, noting the genuine concern in the woman's voice when she mentioned Lita. She rolled her shoulders a little, feeling a slight discomfort at Deteca's willingness to abandon all sense for a total stranger. Even Laurelai had remained where she was when Lita had fainted - a mark in her favor, in Lita's book. There was a time to act and a time to wait and observe. Most of the time, it was far wiser to do the latter. She shook her head a bit, musing at the naivete of some people. Again, she felt confused at how TUBA managed to survive at all in a place this harsh. Observation, acquisition, decision, power. That was the true currency of this city. The Stranger's earlier words came back to her in a cool whisper. 'You persist in this world only by our grace... You continue because you are allowed to.' But why were they allowed to endure? Why not simply wipe TUBA and all the rest of these squabbling guilds from the world? Lita mused on this as she crossed the alleyway to retrieve her coat, which was utterly soaked and filthy. She held it against herself anyway, digging in the pocket for the long spike she had brought as a weapon, feeling the cold surety of the metal in her hand. It bolstered her resolve, especially as Tin let her pick up the many cries, shrieks and howls echoing from across the city, audible even through the torrent of the Alleystorm. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the Stranger step outways, bending away from her sight to reappear in front of Deteca as the woman made to leave. Lita felt a little smirk worm its way through her awe at his power. There was so much he knew, so many secrets. Later, she thought, forcing herself into the present. She walked back towards Laurelai, extinguishing her Pewter so as to keep the reserve for as long as possible. It burned far faster than Tin - she'd have to get used to keeping track of both metals now. Her smirk dragged further up her cheek as she eyed the hole in the door. "Quite a day," Lita said quietly as she neared Laurelai, leaning up against the wall next to the other woman. She felt her smile become a bit of a grimace as the spike in her side gave a rather nasty twinge. "Tin and Hemalurgy - quite a combination. Just between us, I'd have to say I wouldn't recommend it." @Voidus

I scoop the tea into several tea cups and set them on my floating tea island. "Archer, you've thrown the party of my dreams!"

Lita sat still as Voidus and the Stranger spoke with Deteca - or rather, as Deteca antagonized two near-gods. She's got fire, I'll give her that, Lita thought, trying not to wince at both Deteca's utter lack of respect and the throbbing pain in her side. The Stranger rose, his grin a white scythe blade in the darkness, visible even to Lita's blurred vision. She gritted her teeth and slid her feet back under her, using the wall to support her as she stood. Her body felt... strange. Not quite tight, but taut. Efficient. Somehow more solid than before. The beginnings of a suspicion worked through her mind, and her hand brushed her pocket as Voidus strode out of the alleyway. I'm no use if I can't rusting see a bloody thing. Her senses felt like blunted knives without the edge of Tin. No, not blunted knives. Like spoons - curved, wide, and pointless. She knew what she had to do, but it would not be pleasant. 'Oh, I won't need my glasses, I'll have Tin,' Lita thought bitterly, grimacing as she drew her fourth, and final, vial from her pocket. Great plan, Lita. Really bright of you. She flicked the cork off the tiny glass bottle and drank the liquid within, feeling the familiar reserve nestle beside her new metal. The Alleystorm still raged around her, tempting and wild. Don't be stupid, she told herself. Just a bit, just a trickle. Enough to see - just a sip. If she flared again, she might pass out a second time and make a right royal fool of herself. Lita grit her teeth and burned a whisper of Tin. Instantly, the pain in her side rose from a throb to a hammering, and she became hyper-aware of the cold wind as it cut into her soaked clothing. But her vision became blessedly sharp again, and her hearing easily tripled in sensitivity, just in time to catch the razor edge of the Stranger's retort. "...only thing that remains unnatural is your presence. Voidus may have godlike patience, but he is only a man. And I am not so lenient." Lita suppressed a shiver at that, chilled even though his words had not been for her. This woman is thrice a fool to needle him, Lita thought, watching the Stranger grin at Deteca. “Lita, there’s a wooden door a little to your left. I’d like you to hit it, if you would be so kind.” He spoke this last bit without looking at her, and it took her half a moment to process what he'd said. She looked to her left, somewhat baffled. Hit...the door? She stepped toward it tentatively, casting a glance toward Laurelai, who seemed just as confused and soaked to the skin as Lita, if slightly less bloody. Well, there's no refusing him. Lita slipped the Coin into the pocket of her pants and curled her right hand into a fist. I can always tap Gold, she thought, clenching her teeth at the anticipated pain before throwing a punch at the very solid-looking wood of the door. Her fist punched right through the door, planking splintering around her fingers and causing her to stagger forward. A half-cry, half-curse sprang from her lips as her eyes widened. Lita righted herself, staring at her hand, which had disappeared up to the wrist in a battered thicket of splinters. Her knuckles stung slightly, but as she drew her hand out of the hole her skin appeared unbroken. She flexed her fingers, gazing at them as though her hand was some relic from the World of Ash. Then, like honey dripping from the comb, a wide grin slid across her face. She looked down at the gleaming spike in her side, then up at the Stranger. The second fire within her continued to burn hot and strong. She laughed then, a high, clear sound that was quickly snatched away by the wind. "Pewter," she breathed, glancing at the hole in the door. I did that. Her smile curved into something sharper. Power indeed.

I swan-dive off the chandelier into the once-dancefloor-now-pool and scoop the rock off the floor before surfacing. The tea trolley had activated its emergency water protocol and is now a floating island.