Mystic Syn

"Perhaps," he admitted with a shrug. "I wouldn't know, because I'm 'unsuccessful' and an 'idiot,' even though I don't care enough to build an empire off the backs of unreliable people. You can tell me what the Light you want about what you do with money, but my views won't change."

He looked up and studied her. He looked at everything about her, then started to laugh. The laugh turned crazed in a manner of seconds. He wiped the tears from his eyes, as he continued to laugh. "You will care, when everything that you worked for starts to crumble before your eyes," he said through gritted teeth. "You will care when you're backed into a corner because you realize that there's nothing you can do. You will care when you find out that not only you were a failure, but that you have nowhere to go. Isn't that right? Why else would you have climbed the crime ladder at such a young age? People didn't care about you before, and they obviously don't care about you now. You may have them wrapped around your finger, but in due time they. Will. Crack. You may not care now, but you will care when you find yourself alone without an 'empire,' all because someone cracked. "You may think of me as an idiot and unsuccessful, but I know my fair share of how people work when they are put in situations like these. I'm not showy, and I want to keep it that way. What I want doesn't matter to your little crimes about smuggling and all that Ko'ad forbidden crap. Little do you know," he said, looking up at her with the mad grin and laugh still playing. "That I can keep myself alive without your precious magic. I can form plans out of nothing, and still continue with them when someone has made it harder for me. You can keep to your psychological warfare and your smuggling, but there's more that you can do with those talents, besides hide away with your money."

"Hmm," he said, continuing to wipe his hands. "Everywhere is like that, no matter how you slice it, except without the aluminum whatever thing. Power is what the world wants you to think that you need, and they may be right. I don't live in this 'Elendel,' but I know that the people there have the mindset of making you think that you need power, when in actuality what you need to figure out what's wrong with it and make it better. "If anyone stands in your way." He snapped his fingers, letting the sound echo through the cavern for a second, before going back to wiping his hands. "Make it known to them why you're doing it."

"Look, dear," he said, looking up from his now red cloth. "I get that you're trying to impress me and trying to assert dominance, but I don't care about that kind of stuff enough or care about how young you were when you fell for that trap. This 'impressing' me is not going to work, because I'm not criminal. Being amused that I had a somewhat normal childhood till I made my choice to follow the mindset of the world is nothing to be proud of, my dear." Coldness showed in his hazel eyes. "So what you made a criminal network when you were young? That only tells me that you weren't cared enough when you were a kid, that you didn't have enough drive to make the decisions you did. What I do is execute justice, and that's it. I do it now because I see where my world has gone wrong, and I want to make it better for people like me. You can run your cute smuggling business, but I am going to make my world better, because I know where people went wrong." The man shook his head, wiping his hands on the bloodied cloth. "Money is only a physical object that so happens to make Nihil feel like they're the ones in power," he said, the coldness becoming clearer in his eyes. "You can keep up with your smuggling operation. That's the least of my concerns. I don't need criminals in order to achieve what I want, and I certainly don't need to be told off by a thirteen year-old." He looked her over. "If that's your real age, that is."

He chuckled, the mad grin returning. "Smuggling takes to much work, my dear," he said, looking back at her with serious eyes despite the grin. "It's better to keep your operation small till your enemies realize it's too late. Smuggling take other people, and they're a liability."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," he said, going back to wiping down his handgun.

"Very angsty," he said, his grin growing wider. The man glanced at her. "Only when they get into the mindset that I want them to be in," he said, raising an eyebrow.

The man grinned madly. "Angsty, aren't we?" he called out, turning away from Concerto.

"Hmm, that will prove useful," the man said, giving a glance over to the two. "Especially if Kitty over here gets on my nerves, but alas, I don't have that power."

"I'm not saying that all magic are things that can't be explained," he said, going back to wiping his gun. "I'm saying that's what people often do: associate magic with the unexplainable."

The man glanced at the person who spoke, raising an eyebrow. "My dear," he said calmly, "magic are the things that aren't abled to be explained through scientific means. Abilities, on the other hand, are the things that make you into who you are."

"You're falling for it too." The man grinned madly, wiping his gun again. "Being the 'hero' does not mean being all bubbly and believing that friendship alone will save you; rather, it's through hard and painful work that you do what you know to be the right thing to do. I won't deny that having some support on some things will help you with certain situations, but I have found that it's better to work alone so that your plans and goals can come to pass without having anyone ruining it." He turned to Concerto, the mad grin still playing on his lips; although his eyes grew to be serious and perhaps cold. "I'm not the one missing anything. I have experienced what it's like to be the stereotypical hero, and frankly I didn't understand that what I knew to be right required hard work. You and others don't understand that you can be the hero of your story without having anyone else there to support you. I've learned that having people close to you makes you vulnerable to your enemy breaking you, so it's best to work alone so I don't get distracted. But because of the way that others are making you think about heroes, you're not seeing how you can change the world in your own way. "Being the hero does not mean you have to have an overbearing positive personality or a group of supportive yet gullible friends; it's coming to the realization of what life really is and adapting to it's standards and what it gives you. Reality will always hit you smack dab in the face, and it's best to be prepared for it in your own way." The man then laughed, looking at his now red cloth. "Not that you would understand, of course," he said, his mad smile growing a bit larger. "You have the mindset of everyone else, thinking that you need to always be optimistic with life. What you need to be is real with your situation, then do the thing that you know to be right. Once you've gotten past your stubbornness and the world's mindset, being the hero of your own story is easy." The man considered what he said, then nodded. "Not caring is one way to cope," he said without explanation.

"Ah ah," he said, raising his handgun to inspect it. "That's where you're wrong. We are all heroes, in our own ways. We all have our motives, our flaws, and are strengths. It's what other people think that makes us into who we are. Because of their perspectives, they make us think that we're the 'villains' or the ones that are wrong. But alas, they haven't seen the world as we do and experienced what we have. I know you're not talking about me specifically, but don't put people under one identity because you only know one aspect about them."

"Think again, kitty," the man said, walking around from the corner as he was wiping off his gun with a white cloth, it coming back with splotches of red. "Don't think that dealing with you has been paradise for me too."

That's fair, lol. I can get behind that logic.

Hello there, and welcome to the chaos Shard! I honestly don't care if you're evil, that means that I'm not alone, even though I'm technically an Edgedancer. Hope you don't mind me asking, but do you have a favorite Sanderson book? Doesn't matter if it's Cosmere or not.

Q got up on her feet and started to inch slowly towards the entrance. She was utterly silent when she reached the tent door, reaching out and slowly and quietly unzipping the door. She let out a quiet breath, then opened the door, pointing her now summoned blade outside.

Q was already alert and watching the entrance, her hand splayed out to summon her blade. She didn't say anything, but only watched the entrance.

"Cozy," she said, scooting over to the corner of the tent. "Yes, that's a word for it."

Q considered the offer, looking towards her tent with longing. It took her a moment, before she sighed and made her way over to the other tent. "This better be worth it," she muttered, taking her soaked boots off before entering.

She shook her head, walking over to her own tent. "This is why I have a tent of my own," Q said, waving her hand in the air.