ZincAboutIt
-
Posts
2244 -
Joined
-
Last visited
-
Days Won
14
Content Type
Profiles
News
Forums
Blogs
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by ZincAboutIt
-
"You're a Seeker?" Nerin hissed. Was everyone hiding some kind of metalborn talent around here? She ambiently Soothed a little of Attayl's panic, though her concentration was off. "Never mind," she continued. "Later. Questions for later." She took a deep breath, letting it out in one shaky gust. "There's the parlor, at least until this cools down. Should be closed - just Jeb and the new boy. There's some cots upstairs." @I think I am here.
-
Nerin stumbled backwards as Lance sprinted off towards the gang members, blurring into nothingness before... reappearing somewhere? What? That wasn't how a Steelrunner moved, in fits and starts like that. That was how someone fought while burning Bendalloy. But - it couldn't be. He was a Lurcher. No one got two Allomantic metals, not anymore. Not since the Lord Mistborn. "God Beyond," she whispered, backing up towards Attayl and Brillin. He was a Mistborn. "Are you seeing this?" @Sorana And he was one of the Farriers. The fight was over in a dizzyingly short amount of time, with Lance sparing an older man that Nerin vaguely recognized as Willet. It seemed that the gang war had officially begun. And, she thought, rather stupidly, a Mistborn owes me a dance.
-
Nerin gave a tiny laugh, half-amusement, half-relief. "I think a demonstration is very much in order," she said. More out of habit than anything, she reached out with a Soothing. "Tell me, do you typically ask a woman to dance this way?" She pushed down on some of his inhibition, letting the Rioters do their work. It didn't take much in this kind of environment - so much Allomancy, so many different pushes and pulls on the emotions. Nerin knew she should be terrified; she'd just seen a man murdered. Still, the reality had yet to reach all the way to the band. Trent was still playing the keys, Rioting her desire to laugh, to dance, to live.
-
There was a sharp crack! from high above, then, something hurtled down into the man with the force of a bullet. He slammed into the floor with a wet crunching sound, skull fully crushed by the feet of a man dressed in a mistcoat and a -- Well rust me, Nerin thought, mouth hanging open at the infuriatingly-familiar face of Lance Rapis. Her body reacted automatically, taking his outstretched hand and stepping towards him, careful not to tread in the pool of dark gore at her feet. "I suppose this should do as repayment for the broken window back at the parlor," she said, still a little breathless. "I hope you dance half as well as you make an entrance, Master Rapis."
-
Nerin felt all the blood drain from her face. The man's grip had become iron - his eyes, steel. She nodded once, dropping the Soothing. Oh Harmony.
-
Rusts, Nerin thought. A true gang war would be horrible for business - no one wanted to be out at night with that much violence in the streets. She forced herself to give a light laugh. "Truly, nothing," Nerin said. "She was in the parlor - I wanted to go out dancing. She offered to come. Just a diversion." She looked at him - quickly meeting his eyes, then looking away again, pouting her lips a bit. "Too much work can drive a girl mad, you know." She turned up her brass a little more, trying to Soothe his worry over something Attayl could have said. She must have overheard something important, Nerin thought. Otherwise, why would he be so anxious?
-
Aben, Radyn, Atmose and Vena I think. Not sure what kind of rhyming convention to go with though -
I'm doing sets of 4 so there shall be more!
-
From the album: RP Doodles
First set of cast portraits for the Scadrial thread! Left to right: Nerin. Lance. Attayl. Brillin. Character credit: @Invocation @Sorana @I think I am here. -
"You assume I have any say in the matter," Nerin countered. "Jeb makes those kinds of decisions. Though," she leaned in a little, "I can be very persuasive. Perhaps you could point me in the right direction? You do seem to have your finger on the pulse of this Octant."
-
Nerin made a show of looking indifferent, Soothing him very slowly - just a touch. A whisper, to lower his guard. Careful, Nerin, she thought. "She's sweet," she said, looking up at the man through her lashes. "Sweet people are easy to toy with. Though, something tells me you know that already." It was more than half-true, and the truth of it stung Nerin a little. Am I just as awful as this man? She let him pull her closer, following his lead as the song changed track. Slower, now. More languid. "It's oddly satisfying," she continued, looking away now, over his shoulder, though her mouth was close to his ear. "Controlling what you can - especially in such uncertain times as these." Come on... Nerin thought, burning just a little more brass now. Talk to me.
-
Nerin stood and curtsied with the same level of slightly-exaggerated formality, taking his hand. Inside, she panicked. What am I doing? She thought, still feeling the Rioting tugging at her. Rusting Trenton and his rusting piano, I'm going to kill him. The man led her onto the dancefloor, taking her hand with a surety that spoke of long experience with the steps. His hand was firm on the small of her back, and he held her just a bit closer than was strictly proper. The tiny smirk on his lips was perfectly placed. No, certainly not a noble. "You certainly know what you're doing, m'lord," Nerin said as he lead them in a uptempo waltz. Makes one of us.
-
Actually, all I did want was a little fun. But now... Nerin caught a note of trepidation in the man's voice. He's afraid - but of what? She nodded, still keeping the mood light and cool. "Of course," was all she said, dipping her eyes in a show of deference . She rather did want to actually dance this evening, before someone got stabbed. Brillin and Attayl had already gone off to the dance floor, which was a lucky thing. Nerin was sure Brillin would have scarpered it as soon as Attayl's boss had arrived, no matter the Soothing she laid on. Nerin downed the rest of her cider and, in a moment of wild, Rioted recklessness, asked, "Well, since you're already here, would you care to dance?"
-
Renata looked towards the forest, peering at the trees. Some looked sturdy enough to climb, with enough hand-holds. "I can climb," she said, tightening the straps on her pack so it wouldn't slip as she climbed. "I'll go take a look." @kenod @Sorana
-
Nerin narrowed her eyes at the new man, taking in the cut of his suit, the tone of his voice. He spoke like a noble, but there was an edge to him that said otherwise. His suit was of a fine material, but it was a bit too flashy for nobility. Some slight scarring on his knuckles and across his jaw hinted at his true nature. Wonderful, she thought. Rusting wonderful. She reached out with a very delicate Soothing, leaving most of his irritation but removing some anger and hoping he would not notice. "Good evening, sir," Nerin said, giving the man a small, cool smile. "We were just having a little fun on the town. Would you care for a drink?"
-
Nerin cocked her head at Aben. "A twig? You must do a fair bit of travelling then. I can't imagine travelling without matches." She admired the pipe - it was quite the piece.
-
Nerin groaned, though she was less nervous than she ought to be. Another Soother around, too, then. "I expected as much," Nerin replied, voice just as soft as Attayl's. "I'm assuming you recognize some of the local muscle? Any... new faces?" Rusting Farriers, she thought darkly. Their drinks arrived a moment later, and Nerin sipped her cider with an odd mixture of dread and giddiness, her blood running hot and cold by turns. "Right," she said, leaning across the table and addressing everyone, foot tapping to the music underneath the tabeltop. She held up three fingers. "This place has three rules: no brawling, no gunfire, and absolutely no calling the conners. Everyone clear on that? Yes?" She grinned, taking a bigger drink of her cider. "Lovely. Now, who wants to dance?"
-
"Wilhelm doesn't think we should leave," Renata said, joining the two. "He thinks it's safer to stay here." She wasn't sure what to think now. Travel would be slow, and there was comfort in being near what they already knew. Still, this place felt very wrong. Even though the dead were buried, Renata felt their presence. "But if there is a chance we could find a town or a city, we could get help. Food, water, medicine... maybe a way home?" @kenod @Sorana
-
The Worldhopper's guide to investiture and magic
ZincAboutIt replied to overlord stick's topic in Sanderson Fan Works
Can I do some illustrations for this? :3 -
Nerin caught Attayl waving at her, and she motioned the younger woman over. She looks unsure, Nerin thought, directing a small Soothing towards her. "Good music," said Brillin, who was looking around with a curious but cautious eye. "Trent's on his game this evening," Nerin responded, nodding. "Let's get a table." She moved through the thronging crowd toward the outer edges, where someone had installed some plush booths. A harried-looking serving man walked past, and Nerin snagged his sleeve, whispering that they'd take a round of ale and cider. She could feel her excitement heighten, the desire to laugh and dance swell like a balloon within her. Trent must be flaring his zinc tonight, she thought, craning her neck over the crowd to see the band. Either that or they've hired more Rioters. Sure enough, Trent was leaning over the keys, a wild grin on his face and a large tankard, almost-certainly mixed with zinc shavings, perched on top of the piano. She slid into the booth and motioned to the others, lowering some of their reluctance and inhibition to make room for the pervasive Rioting. On the outskirts of the dance hall, Nerin spied signs that Lance and Attayl hadn't been wrong; Willet's men were out in force tonight, grouped in odd numbers near the doorways and the back room where they kept the liquor. They were prepared for violence. Not tonight, she pleaded, fingering the earring in her left ear. Was it sacrilege to pray to Harmony at a dance hall? She'd never been a particularly good Pathian. Her eyes flicked upward for a moment, then she slipped the earring out of her ear and back into a pocket. Best not to risk the blasphemy.
-
Kelsier is the best! Welcome to the Shard, we’re glad to have you!
-
"It's just this way," Nerin said, leading the small group around the hulking silhouette of a warehouse. Despite the late hour, the alleys and streets were full of people laughing, talking, sometimes fighting. Nerin slipped among them, brass at a comfortable burn, Soothing curiosity, avarice, irritation. Women in low-cut dresses and too much makeup lounged against warehouse walls, while men with dueling canes and hard eyes prowled, looking for marks or companions or someone to hurt. Nerin could almost hear Brillin's unease behind her, and she Soothed him too. "Not far now," she said, mouth curled up in a small smile. Up ahead, the faint and tinny sounds of music filtered through the misty night air, growing louder as they walked until finally they rounded another corner and came to it: Depot 9. It sat like a fat, dilapidated spider amongst a web of unused rail tracks, light radiating from its vast frosted glass ceiling and setting the mist glowing. All around the huge bay doors, people milled and called and shrieked and drank. The rollicking melody of a piano caught Nerin's ears, and she grinned. Good, Trenton's working tonight. He seemed to be well into his stride too - barely missing any notes. She motioned to the group behind her to follow closely, then she sidled up to one of the bouncers, slipping a handful of clips out of her pocket and into his meaty hand. "Could you send a runner for Trenton when he's done playing this set?" She asked, lightly Soothing the man to make him more amenable, but not so much that he'd notice it. "Tell him Nerin's come to see him." The bouncer raised an eyebrow at her, then two as he caught sight of the group with her, but nodded. Without even looking, he nudged a boy at his elbow, who promptly ran off into the depot building. Within five minutes, the boy came back and whispered something to the bouncer, who frowned but let them through. "Don't make trouble," he growled. Nerin smiled at him, making an 'x' over her left breast. "Cross my heart," she said. Once inside, she spread her arms and turned back to face the group. The music played, glasses clinked, and everywhere there was dancing. "Welcome to Depot 9." @everyone
-
Nerin cocked her head, then began Soothing the man's sense of exhaustion. He perked up a bit, taking interest in his drink. "Well?" She said. @Sorana @I think I am here. @Dr. Dapper @Emperor Stick @Ark1002? @anyone else
-
Nerin raised a dark brow. "How do you know I'm not already Soothing you?" She smirked. "Don't worry, I'm not - not really." The edge of her cigarette burned with an ashy glow, and she tapped the ashes out the window, watching them swirl into the mist. "That is a fun game, though," she placed the cigarette back between her lips, then looked at Aben. "Shall we play?" Nerin gazed at him a moment longer, then decided on something easy for the first round. Worry, she thought. You don't need that. Your anxiety? I take it from you. She grinned at Aben. "Well?" @Dr. Dapper
-
Nerin struck a match, lighting the end of the little paper cylinder, then waved the flame out. She blew a stream of smoke out the window at the red 'Mouras' across the way, wrinkling her nose. "So," she said, looking back at Aben. "Before we were so rudely interrupted, you wanted to ask me something. Perhaps I can answer you now? I'm still technically on the clock - you've got a captive audience here."
