ZincAboutIt

Jeb smiled at the young woman, sending out the smallest Soothing to file down the edges of her anxiety, maybe set her a bit more at ease. "Evening," he said, nodding to her. "Drinking tonight, or something stronger?" He nodded towards a back room, where Nerin waited. @Sorana

Lita felt her pocket jerk slightly and drew out her pen, casting an appraising look at the girl who had slipped up next to her and Laurelai. Heading out? I can come? Help you. If this had been any other guild, Lita would have thought it quaint that a girl could offer any real assistance on a spying mission. But, this was not any other guild. Right, Lita thought, looking at the spike spinning between the girl's fingers. Remember where you are. She cast a glance up at the Stranger, whose whispering, jittering collection of shadows bloomed out behind him like some mad, twisting cape. As if I could forget. She spun her own pen, taking the opportunity to look at the girl with a more critical, tin-enhanced eye. Yes, definitely more than she seemed, this little thing. Lita knew that look - she'd seen it in the mirror her whole life. She'd been playing spy for her father since she could run drinks through the parlor, and this girl was older now than she'd been all those years ago. Heading out soon, in all likelihood, she sent back to the girl, smiling with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity. I'm Lita, Tineye and Brass Ferring. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet. @Voidus

Nerin looked out the window and down the winding length of street that led past Sethwick’s Soothing Parlor and Lounge. It was late afternoon, but night had already fallen here in the 7th Octant neighborhood of the Hollows, shadowed by tenements. It wasn’t quite a bad part of town, but neither was it good - at least, that’s what old Jeb said. As far as Nerin was concerned, the Hollows were just fine. The people here were rich enough to pay her but miserable enough to come looking. That’s all she needed. She’d once asked Jeb who Sethwick was, to which the old Soother had replied “some fine dandy git.” Nerin took that to mean that Jeb had made him up, and she didn’t blame him really. “Jeb’s Soothing Parlor and Lounge” rolled off the tongue with all the grace of two horse shoes jangling in a sack. It was so much easier to lie about such things. It was expected, really. No one ever really trusted a Soother anyhow, so you might as well spin a pretty fiction. The clock on the wall hit five and Nerin got up from her seat by the window to light the little gaslamp outside the door. She pulled her coat tighter at the autumn chill, cupping her match as she reached inside the blue glass lantern and lit the wick. It caught with a stuttering flare of yellow, then shrunk to its usual steady glow as she closed the little hinged glass door. The lamp cast a calm haze of blue around the poch, a luring kind halo of light. Come forget, it beckoned. For just a moment, all your troubles will melt away. Nerin looked out at the street one more time, then went back inside. Jeb was wiping down glasses at the bar, setting them behind the polished wooden countertop and counting out the money in the till. “It’s a chill evening,” Nerin said, tapping one finger on the bar and nodding toward the wall of liquor bottles. “I imagine it’ll be the hard and dark stuff tonight.” Jeb nodded, not looking up from his counting. He was a good-looking man for his age, somewhere north of forty and south of sixty, with coal-black hair shot through with silver and tied at the nape of his neck. He had keen eyes, flinty and sharp, which matched his proud nose and angled chin. His skin was paler than most, likely from years cooped up inside parlors like this one, though he’d kept up his physique through the years -- Nerin cocked her head. What am I thinking? She cast a withering glance at Jeb, whose mouth had started to quirk up ever-so slightly. “Stop trying to Soothe me into your bed, old man,” she said dryly. “I’ll have a glass of red, and none of that Callingfale dreg you buy cheap. I want the real stuff. It’s going to be a long night, I can feel it.” Jeb reached behind the bar and drew out a bottle, pouring her a generous glass. He slid it across the bartop and winked at her. “I can’t make you feel nothin’ you don’t already have cookin’ up there, love,” he said, smirking. Nerin rolled her eyes. “I’m a Soother, not a grave robber.” Jeb chuckled and she walked towards the back room, wine glass in hand, savoring the last moments of quiet dusky evening before her shift began. It was time to begin the business of forgetting.

Basically the only thing I liked about last night's episode was Arya's scene running through the city. It was shot well and I think she did a good job and it fit with her character. Also I will be endlessly bitter about Jamie's stupid death forever. Jamie!! Ugh. I just want to throw things. He was supposed to be the "younger brother" in the prophecy, I was SO SURE of it! I am so mad. *table flip*

@Ark1002

Renata stood quickly, one hand outstretched as if to grab the book, before remembering that he held a Shardblade. She swallowed her anger and held back the white knot of terror in her throat. If he throws that into the fire, we'll be even more blind than we are now. "Fine," Renata said, holding out both hands to her sides. "Just... just give me the journal, alright? You take first watch." She hated the pleading tone of her voice, but it couldn't be helped.

Renata kept a close eye on Aderet as she slowly stitched Arun's wound closed. She'd need to make sure the woman didn't faint and break the gut thread - that would not be a pleasant thing, and she only had so much of that thread. "I can take a watch," she said, hand straying to her pack again, and another reaching up to brush the edges of her hair - as if to make sure both were indeed still with her. "We should have two at a time, preferably someone who has some combat training on each shift." She nodded towards Hellbent. "That means you, of course, Brightlord, but you'll need to rest at some point." She turned to Wilhelm, eyes serious. "You spent some time out in the wilds of your own country, didn't you? I'm guessing you know how to kill, if necessary." Renata got up and moved towards Wilhelm, who had put on the boots and was watching Arun with a kind of mesmerized focus. She pulled the Doctor's notebook out of her pack and flipped to the last page, showing him. "Lizanne saw this thing while we were inspecting the dead," she said, voice low to avoid panicking the others. "Something is out there, and it was watching the Doctor too. I don't know if it can be killed, but you should be ready in case." @I think I am here.

Renata picked up the little pan again, forcing herself to remain calm despite Arun's screaming. She poured a small, steady stream of water onto Arun's wound, and when it seemed clean she poured more over Lisa's outstretched hands until the liquid ran off clear instead of red. There won't be a thing for half a mile that won't hear her screaming, Renata thought. Though, if that red eye was still out there somewhere, danger was already here and waiting for them. "Do you think she'll need stitching?" She asked Lisa.

Thanks! I'll give it some thought on whether trying to work through the extra 100 points would be worth it. There's so many other options out there though! Appreciate the answer.

Thanks for asking this question, @Sorana, because I was about to ask it! As usual, we're sharing a brain long-distance. If I purposely built my character with room to gain powers should I still discuss with a mod beforehand? I'm guessing yes? While I'm here, any suggestions on something that would make a spy more useful? She's already a Tineye/Firesoul twinborn. Adding brass Allomancy would be a logical possibility but then you'd have to take the compounding points into account. Plus, there could be some super interesting combo I'm not thinking of.

Lita stepped back a bit and gave Laurelai room to give her own report to the three leaders. When she mentioned that she was a Forger, Lita did her best to quash a tiny, prideful smirk. She did so enjoy being proven right on a suspicion like that. She'd intended on giving Laurelai the full support of her attention, but her eyes couldn't stop flicking towards the Stranger. Don't stare, she scolded herself. It's unprofessional. Still, the stress of the last few days, the party, the coin - all these questions filled her like water set to boiling, creeping closer and closer to the lid. Why had his Shade given her the coin? What was she supposed to do with it? And what on earth was she supposed to do in the middle of a war with nothing but her own Twinborn capabilities? Lita looked down at the rows of tiny spikes in her arms and pressed her mouth into a tiny line. They were what was keeping her safe while she Alleytravelled, but outside of the Alleys she was just as vulnerable as anyone else - possibly more so. Just another Tineye in a world full of extraordinary people, with no way of protecting herself save her wits, her charm, and a reasonable skill at poisoning. But it was rusting hard to poison someone in the middle of a war. If they were to use her - and she had no illusions that they did intend to use her - they'd need her to be better than just a clever Twinborn. She'd need to become something more. Lita tapped her index finger against her leg, trying to shake out some of her nerves. Usually she loved secrets but this many all at once felt like a thousand voices screaming in her ears. She couldn't filter out one from another. Calm, she thought. One breath in, one out. She did so, pulling her face back into its usual pleasant blank slate. This was no time to show weakness - there would never be a time to show it. Not anymore. There was only one way to go now: forward. Her hand slipped into her pocket and drew out the coin, clutched like a talisman. It was cool and heavy in her hand, and while she managed to resist the urge to flip it as Laurelai spoke, she turned it over and over behind her back, letting the motion lull her mind into something close to ease. Eventually, I'll get my secrets, she thought fiercely. For now, patience.

Voidus stared at Lita with eyes that could cut diamond, and she quickly looked away from his gaze, instead focusing her attention on his shoulder as she spoke. "Money, mostly, Sir," she replied, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. "Well, at least that's what the theme of the party was. They wanted to court the great guilds for funds. I'm still not sure why they invited so many others, though, so many random people. They'd put up posters around the city asking for anyone with 'unique investiture,' to come forward, promising to help them use their talents to make themselves famous." Lita shifted from one foot to another, some of her anxiety fading as her mind began breaking down the events of the party - a familiar activity. The rehashing gave her comfort. "I'm quite sure that was nonsense. And to be honest, I don't see how they could possibly require more funding, Sir. That place was armed to the teeth, with enough security to observe just about anyone doing just about anything. Extremely high-tech, and lots of hidden floors, too. I assume those are for R&D purposes, perhaps living quarters? I don't know. What I do know is that there is likely already some kind of group backing PlasmaCore. I don't think it's a front so much as a division. When we got to the party, everyone who entered got shuttled right into the main hall except for one man. He walked right up to the secretary, handed her a note, and she immediately took him to a private elevator bank. Single elevator, one button." "The host of the event was named Sebrial, Koloss-blooded I believe, though that's of little consequence. He seemed incredibly keen to get me to agree to a funding partnership between us and PlasmaCore, though he would hardly tell me a thing about their research, let alone outline any kind of copyright terms, discovery license - the basics of any partnership. From what I can tell, they are trying to incorporate multiple forms of investiture within one entity - but without hemalurgy. Something like a spren, but...with many parts?" She tapped the tip of her nose unconsciously, a sure sign that she was thinking hard, then actually met Voidus's eyes for a moment. "Is that even possible, sir? I'm afraid I don't know as much about these matters as I'd like to. It's only been about..." Lita looked up to the left, thinking. Time didn't make the same kind of sense down here. "A few days since I joined the Dark Alley?" Lita hated sounding so uncertain, but there was no hiding it, not from these people. "Things began to unravel shortly after the television channels were hacked by an escaped criminal called the Mastermind. He had at least one agent there, then a contingent of Chaos Marines arrived on some mission of their own. We left around that time." She looked over at Laurelai, then clasped both her hands behind her back and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. Perhaps she had found out something more illuminating after they separated.

Lita chuckled. "Forian used to have me check his ledger books," she said without thinking, then stopped. Forian. The sudden memory of his cold skin on her mouth made her smile falter. "I, um, yes," she continued, trying to cover her fluster. "Paperwork is never fun. Beneath you, really - you're far too interesting." Terrible effort, she chided herself. Possibly your worst recovery ever. A sudden movement from the three DA leaders caught her eye, and she felt her eyes widen. The Stranger beckoned the two of them, his smile just as wide as his Shade's had been, though he looked more real. "I believe we're being summoned," she said to Laurelai, trying to hide the sudden spike of fear that lanced through her guts. She smiled weakly. "I'm afraid I didn't brush up on my etiquette for this type of situation. When meeting the solid version of a long-missing demigod, is it proper to curtsy or is it a full prostration?" She was babbling, her mouth trying to distract her as they walked over. The Stranger grinned wider than ever. “I do believe a proper introduction is in order," he said. "One of you I haven’t met and the other has only met part of me, and not the part that’s meeting her now. Greetings to the both of you, may your spikes be sharp and your measurements precise.” Lita stood before him, hand reaching reflexively for her pocket before she forced it to be still. "Good evening, Sir," she said, some long-quiet portion of her mind taking over and spooling out lines she hadn't used since her Elendel party days. "It's an honor to meet you, or, um, this part of you." Smooth, Lita. There's that espionage training working for you, I'm sure he's quite impressed. She banished the little voice, smiling politely. "My name is Lita Attar." She turned to Voidus next, despite the fact that he hadn't spoken to her, and made a small bow in his direction. When in doubt, too much formality. That's what her father had taught her. That done, she looked to Mac, hoping he'd tell her what to do. "How can I help you, Sir?" @Fatebreaker @Voidus @MacThorstenson

She knows, Lita thought, but she simply smiled back. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she said lightly. "But if I were to know what you were talking about, let us assume, perhaps, that the recent overwhelming scale of the day has momentarily caused a few impressionable Denizens to have leave of their senses. After all, some of us are still mere mortals." Laurelai was eyeing her with a look that was part bafflement, part appreciation. Lita felt a tiny moment of triumph. Never thought I'd be able to ruffle her. "I'll be sure to quote you on that last bit, by the way," Lita said, grinning in earnest now. If you can manage to keep yourself from getting disintegrated, that is, the little voice whispered.

"You're telling me," Lita muttered. She looked over at the three leaders, heads bent toward one another, speaking in low, serious tones. I wonder... an insane portion of Lita's mind whispered. Almost unconsciously, Lita flared her tin, shutting her eyes to slits as the dim light of the Alley grew almost too bright. Voidus's voice filtered through the hum of low conversation that had filled the Alley, as clear as if he stood right next to her ear. "... be convenient to get rid of all of them together," he said, then paused for a moment before continuing. "Plasma Core?" I knew it, Lita thought, a tiny smile quirking the corners of her mouth. I knew it."We sent some Denizens there didn't we? A party of some kind. One was a new recruit, someone who'd had a rather interesting visitor the night before?" Lita felt all the color drain from her face. Oh rust. Oh hell. That was her. Typical. Just her luck, really, that she'd eavesdrop just in time to hear them mention her. Act normal, she thought, panicking. Lita looked up and over across the crowd, face arranged into her most carefully curious expression. You are a spy, not some wilting flower. Act like it. Maybe they wouldn't call her over - perhaps her brief to Mac had been good enough. She'd been thorough, perfectly thorough. She couldn't possibly tell anymore, really. Maybe they'd call Okame, or Laurelai? Laurelai was clever, clever than her by half, actually. They didn't need her report, not all three at one time. She caught her eyelid twitching and forced herself to take a quiet, calming breath. Lita looked down at the coin in her hand, as cool and blank as she pretended to be, then slid it into her pocket and pulled her tin back to its typical low burn. Voidus's voice faded back into the low rumble of conversation, indistinguishable. She chewed her lip. "After this is all done," she said to Laurelai, "I am going to need an entire Alley's worth of port."

Lita looked back at Laurelai over her shoulder, noticing the tone of her voice - that hungry cadence Lita herself had felt many times. A hunger for secrets. What indeed, Lita thought. Someone who held that kind of power had to know practically anything - everything. Anything is attainable. The Stranger's own words. "But there is always a price," Lita murmured, looking back at Voidus, the Stranger, and Mac. What kind of prices had they paid? Were still paying? Who was the Stranger, before this place, and how much of him was still left? How much would be left of Lita, before her time in the Alleys ended? An odd, tugging feeling broke Lita's train of thought, and she looked around. Some of the people nearby wore similarly confused expressions. Lita turned her attention to Voidus, whose measured, steady voice began to smolder and crack as he spoke. The tugging continued, an intangible wind, a leash around her soul - pulling. She held her breath, foolishly trying to keep whatever-it-was from pulling anything else from her. Then, it stopped. Lita let out a slow, tentative sigh and looked down at the coin in her hand out of habit. Blank. She grimaced at it, noting that her nails had left deep red half-moon impressions in her palm where she'd been clenching them. "The second reason I have asked you all here today is for a second announcement. The Dark Alley is heading out to war." Lita's head snapped up at that, eyes shooting immediately towards Mac. If there was to be war, they'd need spies. Good ones. "I hope we win this war," Lita said, edging closer to Laurelai. "I don't fancy being someone else's power demonstration." She nodded toward the re-formed body of the intruder.