midnight13

Midnight froze with her fingers wrapped around one of the spheres in the hallway when she heard the knock. Who’s that? Quickly tucking the sphere into her belt, she dashed to the front door, pulling it open. Has Mother come for me? Or father? Has something happened? But the only one she saw was a nervous-looking girl. @Random Bystander@Vapor

Midnight watched Crescendo go, then slipped into one of the empty rooms herself. She set down her pack, then sneaked back into the hallway, stifling a yawn. Now was not the time for fatigue. She had work to do.

Midnight glanced sympathetically at Leonie, feeling a kinship she could not explain. Bowing her head, she twisted her fingers into Sky’s Caravan’s recruitment sign and touched Leonie’s shoulders gently. “The caravan welcomes you,” she said solemnly. Midnight tightened the straps of the leather pack slung over her back, and glanced in the sphere purse at her belt. Storms. Nearly all of them were dun. She eyed the lit spheres lining the hall. Surely no one would mind if she borrowed a few...

“Thanks,” she said, feeling a little drowsy despite what she had said earlier. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sure,” Midnight shrugged. “But Sebarial never got showed me my room.”

Yay! This looks fun. sandwiched between two slabs of rock.

“Uh...guys? What’s going on? Did someone say infestation?” She gulped. “Not cockroaches, I hope. I can’t stand cockroaches.”

Midnight heard some sort of clicking noise before Sebarial sprinted down the stairs, leaving her alone. She followed, cutting off her supply to the stormlight in the excitement, abandoning her orange hair.

Lorena snatched the envelope from his hand and dismissed him curtly with a nod. “Knight,” she said, again, to Dawn. “Have you completed the task I gave you?” @JesterLavorre

Midnight grinned. She hadn’t been in this place for five minutes, and already something interesting was happening. Twirling her orange hair with a finger, she bounced after Sebarial.

Midnight shrugged, but her eyes caught on something moving in the shadows behind this Sebarial. Narrowing her eyes, she pointed a finger at the motion. Her heartbeat quickened. Was this some sort of trap? “What’s that?” She asked. @Vapor

“Tired?” Midnight snorted. “That word is foreign to me, friend! But a tour would be nice. And who are you?”

She grinned. “Of course.” Midnight winked. “If you need payment, just put the bill on Sky’s Caravan. I think they should be in Revolar now, and I’m sure they won’t mind spending a few spheres on me.”

“Hi!” Midnight let out a three-note whistle she had come up with for her caravan’s greeting as a child. “Midnight here.”

Midnight knocked three times on the heavy door. Good wood, it was. Good for selling. She smirked at the thought and tapped her caravan’s tattoo on her left arm instinctively. Storm it. She quickly hid the design by taking in a little stormlight from the spheres at her belt. After a second thought, she quickly pulled out an old sketch of herself with orange hair, and took in a bit more. Grinning once more, she knocked again.

Lorena’s mood darkened. The last thing she wanted to do right now was meet and deal with a simpering, dull witted chairman right now, but she nodded anyway. “Lead the way, then,” she said, sighing.

Yeah, picking favorites are hard. There are so many great characters! Mine would probably be Shallan, Wit, and maybe Elena since I’m currently rereading Mistborn. Do you have a least favorite character?

And a curse.

Welcome to the shard! I’m glad you decided to join. Who’s your favorite character of Brandon’s?

Lorena glanced at the knight, nodding curtly. “Have you finished the task I gave you?” She frowned at Olivier. “Do you need me for some reason?” Quietly, she seethed to herself. Foreigners. They had no propriety whatsoever. Zarokhavan would teach them how it was done.

Welcome! Who’s your favorite character?

Lorena stalked from the marketplace, so wrapped up in her thoughts that she ran straight into another person. Alarms went off in her head as she pulled back enough to glance at an unfamiliar face. Assassin? Years of training kicked in instinctively. She yanked the knife out of her boot and pressed it to the stranger’s throat. Nearby, people were staring, some even shouting for her to stop. The sound snapped her out of her daze, and she glanced at the stranger again. Now she could see how unconventional his clothing was, how clumsily he moved. The stranger did not even carry a weapon. Her cheeks burned as she released him. “Who are you?” she asked the stranger, trying to hide the embarrassment in her voice. There was anger there, too. This stranger would pay for making her look a fool. @The Ward's Guard

I’m sorry about that. *hugs*