ZincAboutIt

Lita followed Laurelai further into the street, trying to keep her thoughts together. She was about halfway through her first vial of tin, and almost didn't register the hyper-focus of her senses anymore. Not good, Lita. Everything was sharpened to a razor edge, the world a mess and whirl of light, sound, scent, and temperature. Beside her, Laurelai's heartbeat was somewhat elevated. Further behind, KanMien seemed calmer, breath coming even. Lita could smell some of the fear coming off the TUBA member, though whether he was afraid of them or simply afraid in general was beyond her guess. She'd long tuned out her own heartbeat, which still thumped hard and fast against her ribs. If she looked close enough, she could see individual motes of dust twirling in the dawn light that speared between the alleyways of the city. Two blocks further south, something was noisily tearing a person apart; Lita could hear each drop of blood patter against the cobblestones, gentle as rain. So much, so much at once. She'd never gone so long burning this much Tin, and she could feel her mind retreating into itself, her own fear stuffed into a back corner to make room for everything happening around her. There was only the act of observation now, a sharp and terrible clarity that both narrowed her focus and flung the gates open wide. Lita felt a small, strange smile touch her lips, and she knew that her eyes would seem almost black to anyone looking at them, pupils dilated nearly to the edges of her irises, blotting out the green. Definitely not good, Lita. She turned to Laurelai and was momentarily distracted by the presence of one of her long, blonde hairs stuck on one of her eyelashes. Lita nodded towards the TUBA member. "He's rather terrified," she whispered; her voice sounded loud as breaking glass to her own ears. "I can hear his heart - like a little bird." @Voidus

Nerin looked down the street. They were about three blocks away from the parlor now, and the alleys were strangely empty for this hour. Rusts. A gunshot sounded. "Hell," Nerin whispered, quickening her pace, terrified of walking into a firefight, terrified for Jeb. Terrified. No, no, no, she thought desperately, leading the group around another corner. She still had some Brass left inside of her - maybe she could stop the fighting. Stop all this madness. Harmony please, she prayed, starting to run now as the screaming became louder. Please.

Lita turned back towards the TUBA member in the street, cocking her head a bit to the side. "Lovely day for the end of the world, eh?" She said, tugging her sleeves back down to conceal her spikes. "We need to find your leaders, let them know what's about to happen. You'll want to get as many people out of the city and into your tunnels as you can, and quickly. Things are about to get..messy." @Silva @kenod @Voidus

Vena's words entered her mind as though through a thick fog. The parlor? She let John help her up, still reeling. Then, finally, the Coppercloud's words lodged somewhere clearly enough for her to replay them. "I hope the old man has as skilled friends as you..." "Oh Harmony," she whispered, cold dread coiling in her stomach. They'd left Jeb alone, thinking he'd be safer there. "The Scarlets must have been watching the parlor. Oh Harmony, it's just the five of them there."

Nerin stepped back against the wall, shocked at the sudden destruction around her. God beyond, she thought, staring in horror at the bodies of the Scarlets littering the ground like spent bullets. Who are these people? The Coppercloud at the end of the alley had lowered his knife into a defensive stance and was slowly backing away, face a mask of terror and rage. The other remaining Scarlets also edged backwards, probably too shocked to run quite yet. "L-leave us," Nerin called to him, breathing fast. "Unless you want the same!" He continued to stare at the destruction, the blood on Vena's massive spectral sword. He took another step back. "Let's hope the old man has as skilled friends as you," he said softly. "This ain't over, girl." Then, he nodded over his shoulder and the Scarlets melted back into the streets, one man flat-out sprinting away. Nerin could hear them calling to one another, but she was too stunned to do anything but slump against the wall of the cobbler's shop. She slid down until she was sitting on her heels, trying her best not to look at all the blood. Instead, she stared at her hands, slowly twisting the strap of her bag. "Th-thank you," she said, still staring at her fingers. They were shaking.

@John Flamesinger

COLOR-CHANGING GIN?!?!

One of the men seemed to hesitate, then stepped forward. "Hey," he said, peering towards Vena. "I think this one's a girl." He grinned, then stepped forward, swinging a cudgel towards Vena. Two of the thugs rushed Aben, both had a long dagger and a dueling cane each.

Nerin was just about to tell John where he could put his device when she heard something - a slight scuffling at the other end of the alley. She turned to see several men, all wearing the deep red vests of the Scarlets, gather at the mouth of the alley. A quick turn of the head confirmed the worst - three more had filled the other end, trapping them in the narrow corridor between buildings. "Oh rust," she whispered. "Good mornin' lovely," one of the men called to her. She actually recognized him, one of Willet's best Copperclouds who came round to collect dues sometimes. He grinned nastily, fingering the hilt of a long knife at his belt. "Now what's a girl like you doin' in a place like this? All manner of unsavory folk out and about these days. Wouldn't want you getting hurt, now would we?" Some of the other thugs laughed, and a few stepped just a bit closer towards their group. "Bad business, m'dear," the Coppercloud continued, frowning in mock-sorrow. "Really it's a shame ol' Jeb had to involve you in all this." He drew his knife, inspecting the edge. "Still," he said, face sliding back into its cruel grin, "I think you and I will have some fun." @Emperor Stick @Invocation @John Flamesinger @everyone else

"Alright," Nerin said, feeling her temper rise. She rounded on John, putting a heavy Soothing on him, stomping down all the way on his inhibition, his desire to lie, and any impulse to argue. "I've had it with all these rusting cryptic devices and words and invisible swords and whatever else. What in Harmony's name are you talking about? Spit it out boy, now."

Nerin blinked, then turned to look at John. "The third person in there? What are you talking about?"

Nerin nodded to the woman, then stood. "Forgive my rudeness, I'm--" "Nerin Falswell," the woman said, still smiling, though the expression didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, we know. You may call me Giselle. Future payment will be collected in person, though you may send letters here should the need arise." The look on Giselle's face made it clear that the need should not arise. Nerin nodded again, reading the dismissal, then turned on her heel. Let's go, she mouthed to the group behind her, then walked out the door with as much confidence as she could fake. Once out on the street again, she looked at them, put a finger to her lips, and motioned for them to follow her down an alley. After a few minutes of walking, she stopped behind an old cobbler's shop and nodded. "I'd bet my own boots that woman was a Tineye," she said, checking the strap on her pack. "I doubt she can hear us from this distance though. Rusts, I could do with a drink. Anything odd on the street outside? Did you smell that... blood smell again?" Nerin directed this last question to Aben. @Dr. Dapper @everyone

Nerin stepped forward into the room. It was small, little more than a shack, really, and the whole place was constructed from the same old, rickety planking. But right in the center sat a beautiful desk, all carved mahogany polished to a gleaming shine. Two oil lamps sat on either side of the desk, covered in etched glass globes that softened the flicker into a warm glow. And most out-of-place of all was the woman behind the desk. She was somewhere just north of thirty, a pale collection of angles and edges. Her eyes were clear, icy green and shone oddly bright in the low light of the room, sweeping over Nerin in a way that made her shiver. The woman's hair was cut short, curling just under her chin in a fashionable wave and accenting a cloche hat made from expensive-looking felt. Aluminum-lined, almost certainly. It was to be expected from people like this, though at least that meant she wasn't a Coppercloud. Or a Mistborn. The thought gave Nerin meager comfort as she sat down in the chair opposite the woman, heavy bag a bulky lump in her lap. She reached into the bag slowly, keeping an eye on the other man in the corner - he had the look of a Thug, though his eyes were keen and sharp. Not an idiot, then, though he wasn't wearing a hat. Good, Nerin thought, pulling the walnut cashbox out of the bag and setting it down on the mahogany table. She slid it forward, along with the folded slip of paper that Jeb had received the previous night - the one with the tithe amount. "It's all there," Nerin said, forcing herself to meet the woman's eyes. "This is a risk we're taking, trading allegiances. Jeb's been paying the Scarlets for years - they won't take kindly to this, um... new development." The woman said nothing, sliding the box towards her and opening the latch. She silently, slowly, counted each boxing note, then the bag of clips, moving with an exacting focus that Nerin associated with Tin. She probably heard everything we said from two blocks off, Nerin thought, doing her best not to fidget. She kept Soothing the group behind her, wishing she could do the same to herself. Her nerves were a fiddle that had been sawed too viciously of late, and she felt close to breaking. "Well, you know how to count," the woman said briskly, handing the boxing notes and pouch of clips to the thug in the corner with a nod. She looked back to Nerin, pale lips curling into a tiny, cold smile. "Congratulations, you've just made a very smart decision. Our leader will reward such cleverness in kind. You can expect protection. We take care of our own." Her eyes flicked over the assembled group behind her, then became slightly unfocused, as though she were looking elsewhere, or...listening? "It seems that you've already got yourself a bit of a shadow. I believe you met Mouras last night?" Nerin frowned a bit at the thought of Lance and his graffiti, and the way he'd so casually obliterated Attayl's boss on the dancefloor. An odd cocktail of irritation and fear and fascination twirled together in her guts, and she felt a tiny flush of color creep up her neck. The woman's smile turned knowing. "Yes, he tends to have that effect. Careful though." The color crept further up Nerin's neck, coloring her cheeks, though she kept her face carefully blank. "Is that it, then?" "Indeed it is," the woman answered, pushing the now-empty box back towards Nerin. "We'll be in touch."

Nerin drew in a quiet, shaky breath, then nodded. She upped her Brass burn, Soothing the anxiety around her, allowing the group to feel confident, ready, prepared. It would be important to present a strong front - not threatening, but not too weak, either. She was careful to also Soothe some pride - no point in looking too flippant. They needed protection. "Right," she said, pleased that her voice was steady and sure. "Come in after me, and don't do anything stupid, or sudden. You two," she pointed to Aben and Rilen, "stay out here and watch the street." That done, she knocked on the little door once, twice, three times. Nerin waited, feeling her heart in her throat. Finally, the door creaked open, though Nerin could see no one on the other side. More Allomancy, she thought, stepping forward through the doorway and tightening her grip on the strap of her bag. These people were powerful, and they weren't shy about showing off. "Well, if it isn't the little parlor girl from Depot 9," a cool, female voice floated across the air - a refined accent, not quite nobility, but not far off. "I see that old Jeb is still as smart as ever, and just as much a coward. Step into the light, then, little nightingale. It's time to see what you've brought us." @Emperor Stick @John Flamesinger @Dr. Dapper @Ax's Boyfriend @Invocation

WoR is one of the best books I've ever read! As far as singular books go, that one is my favorite as its own thing. But Mistborn still sweeps it for me in terms of a whole story.

"Now," Jeb said, pushing the box into Nerin's arms. "Put that in a bag, girl, and hurry." Nerin did as she was told, bustling about and settling the box into a large shoulder bag before slinging it over her shoulder. She looked at Jeb, then the assembled group. "Be careful," she said. Jeb laughed. "It's you who should be careful, girl. Don't worry about an old man like me." There was a tightness around his eyes that spoke of more anxiety than he was letting on. Nerin smiled at him, trying to cover up her own fear too. She stepped towards Attayl, who had begun clearing up the pieces of the table. "There's a hidden door to a cellar beneath the back parlor window," she whispered to Attayl. "If anything happens, get yourself and anyone else down there. Keep your bronze on." Nerin straightened up and looked at Vena. "That table is coming out of your wages. It isn't exactly raining boxings here in the Hollows." She stepped to the door, casting a final look at Jeb and the few who were staying. He smiled back at her, raising a hand. Nerin returned the smile, then looked toward Stravomenos. "After you," she said quietly, trying to ignore the small sliver of ice in her guts. Everything will be fine, she told herself. @Invocation @Emperor Stick @Dr. Dapper

Lita turned around at Mac's mention of Laurelai and KanMien, mind racing to catch up with her own mouth. Did he just call me a Pathian? Before she could do more than frown, Mac had already disappeared into the back of the alley. Lita blinked, then squinted at Laurelai, who had definitely just been soaking wet a moment ago. Her heart was still racing a bit, and a rather-pointless cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck as she realized just how impudent she'd just been. By the Survivor, that was the stupidest thing I've done in a while. She straightened her coat, checked the spike dagger in her coat pocket, and shoved down the rest of her unspent irritation. Pathian. Not rusting likely. Lita spat on the ground once, grinding the wetness into the dirt with the toe of her boot, then faced her two colleagues. The TUBA member behind her was still there, she could hear the anxious beating of his heart. Helpful little thing - he could lead them right to their quarry, then have the job done in time for dinner. Or, breakfast, as it was now dawn. "Glad to see you found the place," she said to Laurelai and KanMien . "Let's play 'good citizen' and deliver our news, shall we? It seems that fortune has been quite obliging." @Voidus @kenod

Welcome!! It's good to have you. I love r/cremposting, it's probably my favorite subreddit! You'll probably enjoy the Sanderson Memes thread too, that's got some excellent silly content in there if you like that sort of thing. What is your favorite book or series of Brandon's? I think the Mistborn books will always take top place for me, just because I love the Metallic Arts so much! Anyway, enjoy your time here!

That girl's been carrying that sword around since she arrived with her brother last night, Nerin thought, chewing the inside of her cheek. And she hasn't tried to rob or kill us all. This parlor was the wrong place to stage some kind of gang coup - Sethwick's wasn't nearly important enough, and no one here was truly affiliated with a powerful gang or involved in anything particularly lucrative. Nerin saw the way Vena's eyes followed her brother. They care for each other. That much was obvious. Would she really knowingly bring her younger brother into a gang war? No, this is an unforseen event to them, too. And an invisible sword would be quite the ace in the hole if they ran into any trouble out on the street. Attayl was right, they couldn't trust these people. But, Nerin could use them for now. "Alright," she said, sliding her hairpin back into her hair next to its twin. She pointed to Atmose and Vena. "You two, you're coming with me, the new fellow and that cashbox. Anyone else? I want to get this rusting business over with." @Emperor Stick @Dr. Dapper @Invocation

"They don't seem to be in much better shape than we are," Renata said. "At least when it comes to weapons. I couldn't see any kind of fabrials, nothing like back on Roshar, and definitely nothing like the Alleycity. Old farm tools, horses, no lights that I could see." She stood and checked her pack, making sure that everything was still secure.

Nerin's eyes widened as Vena simply conjured an enormous sword out of thin air. It could cut through anything? Severing the soul? Attayl moved to her side, and Nerin could read the poorly-concealed terror in her eyes. Vena blinked, and dismissed her blade. "Wait, what? I just thought if we were going to see the Farriers, we should know what we're all capable of." The blade disappeared again, back into a slight mist, then...nothing. "Harmony," Nerin whispered, locking eyes with Jeb, who looked just as surprised, if slightly less frightened. "We can't trust them," Attayl whispered to her, her nails digging into Nerin's arm. Nerin sent a small Soothing out to her, taking the edge off her panic. The last thing she needed was for this to break into hysteria. "What do you want, then?" Nerin said, addressing not only Atmose and Vena but John, and the newcomer with the strange eyes. He'd spoken about another world, too. "All of you. Why are you here?"