Mystic Syn

It may be hot where I live right now, but not as hot as me (jk)

Have a little sketchy I made while watching Brandoson Sandon’s stream.

Gramps just nodded. “Make sure he’s safe. He needs a group now more than ever.” He grunted, slamming the door behind them with a few clicks.

“It’s east of the Center,” Gramps said, his scowl coming back. “Sanita Street. A few levels up.”

He stared at the door blankly. “The place where his family died,” Gramps whispered, his voice losing its edge. “His home.”

Gramps glanced at her, then sighed. “Ji doesn’t have places to go when he’s upset,” he explained. “He probably would just go steal from the Pacis, the dimlight.” He tapped his fingers on the door’s surface. “There might be one place where you’ll most likely find him, though, if he is this ‘upset.’”

“I don’t care,” he said, continuing to wave John in. “Where did you see him last and where have you searched?”

The peep hole opened again. An eye stared at both of them. “How can you lose a boy as hot-tempered as he is?” He looked between both of them, then sighed. “Come on in.” The door opened to a stout elderly man, waving them inside as he looked left and right.

“Who’s Ji?” the now muffled voice asked. “Even if I did know this Ji character, I wouldn’t tell it to Pacis dastards like you.”

A little peep hole opened. “I don’t care who the Pacis sends,” an elderly voice barked. “I am not paying taxes.” The peep hole slammed shut.

Yeah, I keep forgetting to post thingys here.

Ji trudged through the hallway, pulling the new hoodie on. He flicked the remaining lights off, pocketing the bandages and spare food. It would be enough for him to survive for now. That was all that mattered. He walked through the front door, closing and locking it behind him, then crouching to replace the key. I’ll be back soon. Ji rose. Inhale. Head still pounded. Exhale. Well. Better start off in the direction he came–– Ji stopped. He grunted, but couldn’t move. What the–– His limbs twisted painfully in all sorts of directions. Anguished screams escaped him. His vision darkened. The highway beneath disappeared. “Good night, sweet prince,” a deep voice whispered in his ear. The force let go. Wind whipped around his hair. His head pounded more painfully than before. His… well, everything ached. C’mon! he yelled at himself. You can still survi–– CRASH Whatever he just crashed through shattered and made his body protest more. Alright. Not the best outcome, but we can–– CRASH Someone yelled at him in… he couldn’t tell if that was regular Medetish or some made-up language. O…kay. That was–– SPLASH Water enveloped him, filling his ears in seconds. What air was left in his lungs quickly escaped in bubbles. Salt stung his throat and eyes. Ji thrashed around for a moment, but to no success. Lights. I’m not… going to die again… for the… fourth time. I need to… I have to…

The Angel’s eyes followed the tiny figure into the building. “Khaos,” she said, leaning back and furrowing her brow. “Hmm?” “Elya left with Naito, correct?” “Last I recalled.” “I’m not the only one that didn’t see him come in with her, right?” “No, Angel.” Interesting, she and Krow mused. The Angel let go of her knees, allowing them to hang over the edge as she leaned back on her arms. If I were Ji and I ran off… Where would I hide? he finished. The hospital would be a dead giveaway. He may be stupid, but she knew that he was not that stupid. There were a few of his safehouses the Pacis were keeping an eye on, but he never showed any activity there. There were most likely some places where they didn’t know about, but those were least likely to what she’s seen. So where..? The Angel looked up, pursing her lips. Bodies filled her mind. Young girls. Two dying parents. A tiny boy with white streaks in his dark hair. Where was that? It looked vaguely familiar… “Khaos.” The Angel looked back down at the apartment building. “You’ll find Naito three blocks due east from the Center, seven levels up. The address is Space 406 Sanita Street. You can’t miss it.” Gravel crunched behind her. “And what would you have me do with him?” She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow at his hand resting on his hilt. “Introduce him to Mors.” . . . Ji pushed his parents’ door open, walking reverently across the carpet. He carefully placed the torn hoodie on the bed with the others, rubbing away any remaining tears. This was fine. He just needed to find the group again. He can find his way. He was strong. Yet he stood there… Staring at the sweaters… The remaining tears dripping onto his tank-top… He hung his head and closed his eyes, breathing out quietly. Just a little bit longer then…

I feel so creative right now.

Mors jumped out of the way, then slid flawlessly into a different stance, Q’s obsidian knife slipping into their other hand. They ducked a swipe, and parried another with the dark knife. Thank Potens that Yulong’s body was still holding up and reacting fine. They swung Thyella in a wide arc, driving any attackers back, the blade humming with delight as its true master was finally wielding it.

The body breathed out as Mors released some power. It shuddered again, then calmed down. “Still not coming out?” they asked quietly. Yulong fell back. “Alright then.” With a quiet exhale, Mors push themselves up and on their feet. They wobbled, but held firm. Thyella fell into their hand immediately as Mors looked up, surveying the situation, before engaging with caution.

Honey. Half of my username – "Syn" – was named after a Mistborn character I never used loll.