ZincAboutIt

I don't have time for this, Nerin thought, feeling a slight frown beginning to form between her brows. She glanced towards Jeb and the new fellow, the one who claimed to know about where to find a Farrier watch house. She sighed, stepping towards the line, when her foot just...stopped. Nerin nudged the line again with her toe, harder this time. The air before her foot felt solid as a wall. She looked at Atmose and the tiny piece of chalk he held between his fingers, then back at the shiny square John had shoved into Brillin's hands. "What is this?" She asked, feeling a new bubble of anxiety inflate within her. Too much at once, too much to think about. Nerin slid one of her hairpins out of her hair and twirled it between her fingers. The familiar motion calmed her a bit, but she still looked at Atmose, Vena and John through narrowed eyes. She Soothed some of their self-assurance and reserve, hoping to make them more likely to talk, and less likely to lie.

Nerin came back down the stairs to see Attayl cleaning again, and the rest of the group bunched around John, who was holding a small flat piece of...something? It was shiny like polished jet. Some kind of gemstone, or a rock? "What's all this, now?" She asked Brillin, who was grinning derisively at the group. @I think I am here.

Lita stretched her neck from one side to the next to try and roll out the sudden wave of irritation that passed through her. What did it matter why Mac did any rusting thing at all? He could tear down the city and build it again in all likelihood - who was Lita to guess at his whims? She was a spy, not some Pathian asking questions of a mute god. Am I to play dog-catcher to every stray child in Alleycity, now? She narrowed her eyes at the mother, who was now pressing her daughter against her chest and weeping through her own laughter. Somewhere very deep, a piece of her self-control snapped like a frayed bowstring. "Atonement, perhaps, sir?" Lita said, biting off the end of the honorific. "For all the bits and pieces of 'Eternal Nature of the Soul' you've been ripping out of these poor bastards and stapling into yourself?" What are you doing? The voice in her head screamed, horrified. But Lita kept talking, eyes never leaving the woman and her child, tin letting her catch every tear, every whispered tender word. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, hard and fast, straining against the cage of her ribs. "Maybe it pleases you to trot amongst the wretches when you're not using them, bestowing reminders of your watchful care, lending a hand every once in a while to fool them into thinking you're a benevolent god. Maybe if they sing it back to you for long enough, even you will believe it." A tiny, hysterical laugh bubbled out between her lips and she looked down at her forearms, and the rows of tiny spikes there. "Am I just another Faceless Immortal, then, here to be the eyes and ears of a god who ties his own hands and calls it 'right'?"

Nerin froze. "The roof?" She looked at the newcomer. "There's a Farrier on our roof? And you didn't lead with that!?" Suddenly, this morning's newly-wet paint on the wall of the alley made much more sense. Nerin felt a slight heat creep up her neck. God beyond, I took a rusting bath out there not an hour ago. Jeb splayed his hands out, as though trying to calm a panicked horse. "Now, girl, you go run along and get dressed, eh? I'll find out where to send ya." Nerin was about to argue when she felt a powerful and sudden disinterest in pressing the matter. She dipped her chin at Jeb, who smiled and nodded his head toward the stairs. "Go on, get. Smarten up, I know you'll feel better if y'do." Nerin scowled, but did as he told her. ----- Once Nerin had disappeared up the stairs, Jeb turned to the new man. "Right," he said, dropping some of his jovial demeanor. "Who are yah then, if I'm to be handing off my best girl to your care?" @Invocation

Nerin strode to the door, pulling it open further and beckoning the new fellow inside. "You know where to find them?" She asked the stranger, noting his odd eyes. "Where to pay?" Jeb circled back to the bar, pointedly not looking at the box full of cash that rested just behind the bartop. @Invocation

"Just because you can do it, doesn't mean that you should," Mac said, his face taking on a melancholy smile. Fool girl, Lita cursed her own loose tongue. A beginner's mistake, one that she should never have made. She almost nodded, ceding the point, playing the contrite acolyte. The trouble was, she wasn't quite sure of the conclusion Mac wanted her to reach - not yet. If she blithely agreed to the wrong point, it would be worse than arguing. She wrinkled her nose a little, though if she were being honest with herself, she did enjoy this challenge. It had always been pitifully easy to read what Forian had wanted from her, even without tin. This, at least, required some of her best effort. "If I may be so bold, sir," Lita said, careful to keep her tone light, respectful, slightly confused, "it seems easy to tout the merits of limits after attaining incredible power, when you can place your limits exactly where you please." She nodded toward him. "I know all-to-well the feeling of limits, of places one may not cross, people you may not see, things you may not learn. Of being forced one way or another, walking a path not because you wish it, but because it is the only one set before your feet." She felt the Coin pressed against the skin of her ankle, and her fingers itched to flip it. Instead, she forced them to keep still. "Is it so terrible, to wish for the ability to reach out for a thing and make it your own? To move beyond the ideas of possible and impossible, of what is wrong or right, and simply to find what is out there, waiting?" @MacThorstenson

Nerin jumped half a foot and whirled around, reaching her hand back behind her head before remembering that her hairpin daggers were up in her bedroom. Rusts, she thought, eyes darting to Jeb, who had calmly closed the lid of the walnut box and slid it behind the bar. "Stay there, girl," he told her, then strode to the door. Nerin felt herself calm down, trusting Jeb to handle whatever was happening. Not too subtle with the brass this morning, she noted. Jeb slid the deadbolt out of the front door and opened it slowly. "Easy there, friend," he began, voice smooth and calm. "No need to break down the door." @Invocation

More human indeed, Lita thought, feeling the corner of her mouth quirk upwards at his confirmation of her earlier theory. "Limits, sir?" She asked, recalling his disappointment back in the tavern when she'd spoken of her willingness to edit her own boundaries. Lita took in Mac's immaculate suit and hat, remembering the plate full of cookies that had sat on his desk in his richly appointed office. Not gentle, she thought, looking at him. But he is genteel. It wasn't an act, not really. He had seen what could happen to a person without any limits, when you took down all the gates and simply let yourself... go. "Anything is attainable..." she murmured softly, then stopped herself when she realized she'd spoken aloud, hoping Mac didn't notice. Lita cleared her throat and peered up and down the street again. Night had finally ceded to dawn, the new sun a bloody gash spilling its red light through the eastern streets of the city.

Hope? Lita thought, this time allowing both of her eyebrows to raise as she watched Mac coax the girl out from beneath the building. Hope is not what I came here for. She watched the girl begin tapping something from the coin - likely tin. Her eyes went wide. Power. That is what Lita wanted, the power that came from secrets. Don't lie to yourself, the voice cooed. You want the power that comes through blood, too. True enough. Lita backed off her tin flare, but still kept it burning hard, watching as the girl and her mother were reunited. Memories battered against the gates of her mind, threatening to break through... The cool, verdant shade beckoning to her, trees taller than tenements arching overhead like a great cathedral roof, sunlight dappling her face. She'd done her hair in two braids that hung down each shoulder, and starched her own collar. It had been a week since she'd sent the letter - surely, surely they had received it. She wore her two brass arm bracers openly; they caught the soft, green light as the wind rustled through the leaves. Lita smiled. She'd polished them especially. Surely, they would take her to her mother. It had all been some kind of mistake, Lita knew it in her heart. Her mother had to be worried sick - it had been eight years since she'd seen her daughter. Two tall men walked towards her, robes a bright pattern of overlapping v-shapes. Lita almost danced in place, smiling up at them... "Now it's time for the lesson. Why did I do that?" Lita blinked, the memory shredding before her eyes like the last whispers of a dream. Mac stood before her expectantly. Right, Lita thought, curling her hands into fists, concentrating on the pinpricks of pain that her nails made on her palms. Focus. She stared back into Mac's eyes, trying to read him. Again, she was struck by how human he seemed, how much nearer to mortality than either of the other two DA leaders. I've been staring at that rusting Coin for too long, she thought, irritated at herself. There are more people to impress in the Alleys than the Stranger. So, what did Mac want from her? "You want the people of this city to see the Dark Alley as more than a den of horrors and villains?" Lita ventured, pointedly avoiding looking at the mother and her daughter. "You don't just want to rule these people, do you sir? You want to lead them."

Lita listened to Mac speak, surprised at the level of surety in his voice, at his hope. Pretty words for a man who makes a hobby of stealing bits of souls, she mused, careful to keep her face carefully blank and attentive. She followed him to the mouth of the alley, holding her tongue between her teeth with a practiced patience. Mac was her superior, and it would do her no good to vex him, so she let him carry on, nodding slightly. He wishes to make himself a god, and yet he himself speaks of an even higher power? A fascinating fellow, even if Lita doubted his philosophy. If there was anything waiting for her beyond death, it was nothing good. "In the meantime, it seems that someone has lost their child. While we are waiting for the other agents to arrive, it might be good to try and help them find it. Remind them that there is hope in the world" Mac said. Lita couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that - it was subtle, and she quickly smoothed her features again, pressing her lips together to stop the nearly-automatic response of 'That's hardly my job, sir,' from squeaking out between her teeth. "Of course, sir," she said instead, pushing her irritation into the back of her mind and closing her eyes, flaring tin and letting the sounds of the city flood in. The woman was two blocks over, screaming her child's name with the raw, ferocious terror only a mother could manage. Lita tuned her out, instead focusing on the smaller sounds: a smoldering timber finally caving into ash three houses away, the frenzied whine of electric wiring above her head, a feral cat hissing in rage or fear, and one soft, sniffling whimper. Lita moved her head a quarter-turn to the right and opened her eyes again, slitted against the dim light until her sight adjusted. There, just at the end of the street, a girl no older than seven huddled in the crawlspace beneath a rickety tenement that was just at the border of the mist-wall. Lita pointed. "There, sir," she said, tin letting her catch the girl's paralyzed, wide-eyed gaze, the staccato beat of her heart, her panicked breathing as each exhale moved a strand of her dirty brown hair. "Under the tenement building at the end of the street." @MacThorstenson

Lita nodded to Mac, lowering her burn of tin just a bit and sticking her head out into the street to look around again, listening for the sounds of an evacuation. It's hardly going to be that easy, she chided herself. You'll actually need to leave the alley eventually, you rusting coward. The prospect was not a pleasant one, but it was the truth. Lita chewed her lip, then sighed a short, sharp little sigh. "That's the plan," she said to Mac. "Once Laurelai and KanMien get here, we'll be looking for civilians, hopefully finding the TUBA members at the same time." She twirled her pen again, sending her current location to the other two. I'm in the alley next to Cartwright's Boarding House, right off of 16th Street. Mac is here as well. Lita looked over the street with a critical eye, trying to imagine it as Mac had said: a Utopia. "Elendel was supposed to be a paradise, sir," she said quietly. "Built for us by god. And somehow, we managed to ruin that too." Her eyes strayed back to the blanket of mist that hung like an ominous curtain up ahead. "People like to say that life is cruel, sir," Lita mused, "but I don't think that's true. Life is extraordinary, it is unpredictable, it is terrifying, but cruel?" She shook her head. "People are cruel." She closed her eyes, and saw Forian's pale face framed by his dark hair, lying in a puddle of poisoned brandy. Lita drew in a deep breath and tasted sulfur and blood and something else on the air - fear, perhaps? How much tin am I burning that I can taste the city's adrenaline? "We claim to want the shine, but at the end of the day, what we crave is the rust," Lita went on, listening to someone screaming for their child two streets over. "I think, in our hearts, we know that we don't deserve paradise." @MacThorstenson

Lita looked over her shoulder as she heard someone step towards her, expecting to see Laurelai or KanMien, then jumped just a bit when she spotted Mac. He said something, then began coughing, bending forward. Lita fished a handkerchief from a pocket and held it out to him, using the moment to replay his words in her head. A tunnel network? My, that sounds useful. ”Good evening, sir. I... didn’t expect to see you out in the field, but thank you for the intel. Are there any known entrances to these tunnels?” ”Storms it’s dirty here,” Mac said between coughs. Lita looked around, inspecting the alley, the street beyond, the overall level of relative squalor that surrounded her. It was filthy, if she thought about it, but it had been her life. Elendel has looked much this way too, at least the parts she’d lived in. This was what a city looked like - well, Lita supposed that the chaos and destruction raining down around them didn’t help the air quality. She stepped a bit closer with the handkerchief. ”Are you alright, sir?” Lita asked, peering at him, then back to the street, then back to the end of the alley. @MacThorstenson

Lita focused on the memories of her old flat building, and the alley that ran just to the right of it - a dingy place full of bins and dirt and the occasional broken bottle. She recalled the way the shadows deepened the back of the alley into a vague dark smudge, almost as though anything could emerge from it out of the corner of one's eye. Lita took a deep breath, then Alleytravelled there, hoping Laurelai and KanMien would follow. The alley was still there, looking much the same as it had a few days ago, though there were several noticeable changes. The first was the noise. Lita gritted her teeth as her tin-enhanced ears picked up every sound around her: her own footsteps as she moved further towards the alley's mouth, the crackle of a fire burning somewhere down the block, and, of course, the panicked screaming of a city breaking itself apart. She tuned out as much as she could, focusing on the closer sounds, those coming from just outside the alley. Two people hurried across her line of sight out in the main street beyond, though they were not pursued by anything immediately - which was good. They didn't seem to notice her - probably due to the darkness. It may have seemed well-lit to her, but Lita knew she was all in shadow. She edged right up to the entrance of the alley, pressing herself against the wall of her old boarding house and peering around the corner. The street beyond looked so bright her eyes watered for a moment, but she blinked through the tears, getting her bearings. There was no sign of the bird-headed creatures, though she could see a vast haze up ahead a few blocks, shifting and swirling, much like the mists back in Elendel - though far more dangerous. Someone was calling to another person nearby - probably the next block over. "--this way we--" The voice faded into the cacophony of sound thundering against her ears. Lita smelled smoke and gunpowder and the hot, iron tang of blood in the air. She took her pen out of her pocket and twirled it. Immediate area clear, no sign of abominations. People one block over, mist about three blocks ahead toward PlasmaCore. She continued to lean against the wall and flicked her eyes from the street back to the end of the alley, waiting for Laurelai and KanMien to join her. Safe for now, the little voice whispered to her. But for how much longer? She tapped her finger against her thigh, turned up the collar of her coat, and listened for the sounds of anyone attempting to help the people outside. The sooner they found the TUBAists, the sooner they could get back to the Alleys. @Voidus @kenod

Hello and welcome! Which book or series of his has been you’re favorite so far? I highly recommend being cautious about the forums here for books you haven’t read. Spoilers abound!

Nerin cocked her head at the boy as he slid back into the room. What is he up to? She was about to ask, when she heard Jeb's footsteps on the stairs again, and all her attention was drawn back to the matter at hand. He re-entered the parlor room with a wooden box tucked under one arm and a scowl on his face. "Bleedin' me dry," he muttered, then set the box on the table. It was about a foot long and six inches high, made of polished dark walnut wood and latched with a polished steel clasp. Jeb lifted the clasp and opened the box, revealing a neat stack of boxing notes and a sizable pouch full of clips. "This is the lot," Jeb said with a sigh, then looked up at Nerin. "I hate to ask this of ya girl, but it might be better if you deliver it." Nerin blinked at Jeb. "I --," she began, then stopped. Her heart beat a little quicker. It makes sense, no one really knows me on the street. Well, except Lance. But he wouldn't kill her, would he? That would be stupid, if she were about to deliver money to his gang. And she was hardly a threat - what could she possibly do against someone like him? Or anyone, really? Not helping yourself, are you? Nerin shoved her thoughts away, then looked up at Jeb. She nodded. "Where should I go?" She asked, then looked around. "Does anyone know where to find them?"

Lita nodded. "Of course," she responded to Laurelai. She readied her tin inside her, then, on a last-minute impulse, she took the Coin out of her pocket and slipped it into her sock, feeling the metal press up tight against her ankle, pushed flat on her skin by her boot. There, she thought, feeling a slight tremor move through her body as she contemplated the mission ahead. Now I won't need to take the Coin out of my pocket to tap Gold. Hopefully, she wouldn't need to tap at all, but if she did, she didn't want to worry about reaching into her pocket. Lita looked down at her hands, which shook only slightly. No one else can see, she told herself, clenching her jaw. It's the tin. No one else knows you're scared out of your rusting wits. She put her Alleycant pen into her pocket, tightened her braid, and took off her spectacles. There would be no need for subtlety in that regard tonight, and there was absolutely no way she'd be turning off her tin until she was safely back in the Alleys. Lita tucked the spectacles into an interior coat pocket - it never hurt to be prepared - and uncorked one of her new tin vials, downing it in one go. The reserve of power within her bolstered her courage a little, and she thought of the Coin tucked against her skin. Which face are you showing, then? She wondered darkly, stepping next to Laurelai and KanMien. Lita's hand strayed to her other pocket, where she had slipped the long, thin spike she'd brought to the PlasmaCore party. Just in case. @kenod

Jeb watched the young man from the night before duck into another room, then realized he'd missed the question of someone else. He peered at her, taking in the dress and the hair. The girl from last night, he realized. Jeb smiled at Attayl, Soothing a bit of her anxiety. Probably worried she's gotten Nerin into trouble. "There's no need to be cleaning the place, dove," he said softly. This girl was a skittish thing, a bird who wasn't used to being fed by hand. "I'm sure Nerin had her reasons for keepin' you all here. She ain't no fool. That goes for the lot of you," he gestured at the rest of the room. "It ain't too kind out there on the street these days, and they'll put me in the ground before they say ol' Jeb didn't have no hospitality in him." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nerin relax slightly. So she was nervous too. Bless her, she was still Soothing him - probably thought he'd rage and rant if she wasn't careful. There's another one who's been too often burned, instead of warmed. She hid it well, but he knew loneliness when he saw it. Harmony, but he knew that well enough. With that, he turned and trudged back to the stairs, seeking the safe he kept under his bed, and praying he had enough laid by. @Sorana

Nerin watched Jeb's face carefully as she chose her next words. "I know you've seen the signs of trouble, Jeb," she said. "Wind's changing, and it's not going to be in Willet's favor. It's... a risk, but I think we should take it. We can't get on the wrong side of this new gang, Jeb. I've seen what happens." Jeb was silent for a long moment before he heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his black hair. "I ain't never crossed Willet before, and for rusting good reason. Man's tough as pewter and he never forgets a slight. I seen him do things, girl. I wasn't always a parlour-owner, y'know. There's things a man doesn't forget easy." Jeb? Nerin thought. In a gang? The man was far from weak, but she couldn't imagine him playing street tough, running with such a rough crowd. "Don't look at me like that, girl," Jeb said, grimacing as he took another sip of tea. "I wasn't always this old. And no, I wasn't in the Scarlets if that's what you're 'bout to ask." He set the tea down, muttering. "..nosy thing..." "Jeb-" Nerin began, but he waved her off. "Ruination, girl, it's barely seven in the morning," Jeb said peevishly. "Still, you ain't the only one who's made some inquiries. I've been askin' round, tryin' to figure who'll win this war - and there will be a war. Word on the street is the Farriers got somethin' extra, an edge to 'em. If that fellow really was burning two metals, well..." He sighed. "I gotta agree with you. Ain't no one can compete with that kind of power." Jeb walked over to Garth. "I appreciate your offer, son, but I run a Soothing parlor. Ain't no place to be stockpilin' weapons. In my experience, just makes it seem like you're lookin' for a fight. And fightin's bad for business." He turned toward Nerin, and suddenly his age showed in his face, each tired line and haggard wrinkle. "I'll go get the boxings outta the safe, then."

"Alright," Nerin said, setting down her cup of tea with a frustrated sigh. "What is that sound? Is anyone else hearing that?" She began plaiting back her hair, running her fingers through the damp tangles, thinking. If we pay the Farriers now, we can ask for protection till this blows over. She tapped her finger against her thigh anxiously, trying to formulate her case, and was distracted by another odd sound. It almost sounded like a bird but... mechanical? A mechanical bird? @John Flamesinger

"I'd say there's at least four people in there, give or take. I heard two separate voices clearly, but more low talking in the background. They seemed..." Renata thought. "Frightened. Like they were having an important meeting, trying to figure out what to do. They said something about 'soldiers' - maybe someone is coming to check on the ruins of the house? I'm glad we left." She took out her boot knife and began idly poking it into the dirt as she spoke - the rhythm helped her think. "Crops looked like... what is that called? Some kind of Shin plant. Wheat? Is that right? They have horses too - two of them, hitched outside."

Can I be in the PM? Excellent idea @Invocation!

"I agree," Lita said. "That seems like the best option." Actually, staying in here is the best option. She chewed her lip and leaned over the map, tracing one finger along the paper. "We'll need to find somewhere close enough to PlasmaCore to require immediate attention, but far enough away to avoid getting ourselves mixed up in all that mist." She pointed towards a neighborhood she knew to be full of people - her old neighborhood, actually. I wonder if my flat has been overrun by bird-headed abominations? She wondered idly for a moment. Then, she shrugged. "What about here? Lots of families, not too wealthy. Seems like the ideal spot for an evacuation attempt."