Quiver

The Shard of Truth is the one that can only be used by the True Seeker, isn't it? Irritation, a Shard that takes an active role in the lives it's shard world inhabitants. That role involves things like making them lose their keys, being late for appointments, and a low buzz in your ear all the time.

."How about a

Watch Hoid summon

I just want to point out the Gavin is awesome and everything is perfect. Sylvie being people's least favourite character? I can see that, though she isn't my least favourite character (even though I think she's not a great person.) backwards Compatability sounds like an... interesting shipping. Anyway, I've started session 19, editing as I go, etc. Again, I like how Mira is still a bit scrambled from the Drifting, and confusing Katie and Katias names for a second was a nice way of showing that without going overboard on it. Katie finding the combination was surprising. Until now, I was assuming that, if Katias knew how to open it, it was incidental knowledge. The fact that someone thought it was important enough that spit be opened by puting it along with contact details makes me wonder what is inside it. Kudos to Eleanor on taking her infiltration mission to the next level. I suppose it makes sense for someone who likes accents to be switching between roles so easily- kind of reminds me of Wayne a little. This new guy adds an interesting element to it as well; I'm expecting his flirting to have some sort of role in how Eleanor gets the information. I was about to say that I thought it odd that Miranda was so competent in medicine, and then I remembered about Jason. So instead, I'll just say that I liked the fact that set up was used, and that it was used without mentioning him. It might have thrown me for a minute, but if I was reading these all in one go rather than interspersed, I'm sure I would have remembered it. I liked him not being mentioned as well, since it's such a common trope in fiction for characters to mention dead loved ones at the drop of a hat. Seiko... really does favour the direct route, doesn't he? He outted fiVe to Sylvie and Zhu, and his way to find Katia is just to ask someone. It's kind of funny/ironic that the guy with the most guarded secrets is the one whose solution to problems is to confront them head on. And having the flirting backfire is even better than if it had worked. I aphave absolutely no knowledge about hospitals, but it's cool that this guy hasn't been so overwhelmed by El's charms that he notices something's wrong when the professional doctor doesn't know how to find the files. I'm sure she could bluff it,but it's nice to see competence from NPCs. I hope this is a lesson to Miranda. When you start telling people dangerous disease could be loose in the hospital (and imply you yourself are infected by coughing surreptitiously), quarantine might kick in. Okay, maybe it's not the most obvious of problems- the intern double-checking her story would have been my first concern- but still. I have to say though, you guys aren't very good at the 'sneaking around without being caught' parts, are you? ; ) I know. I ought to say something about Seiko, but Eleanor's ending is a moment that is just way more intense. Given everything unto this point about her relationship with the cultists, this is maybe the most interesting turn in the scene. I guess this means that the suspicion is less to do with the professionalism and more for the general point of the Assembly, but it was still nice to see, and even better to see Eleanor playing off it. I would not want to be him right now. Again about Katie's money, I love the fact her notepad is a cheque book. Something about it is indescribably charming. Also, Miranda has learned her lesson, and it's cool that, if you can't get in and out without tripping the alarm, that you can get out through stealth. As IVe made abundantly clear, I'm more of a fan of drama over high octane action, so this is shaping up to be an interesting segment. And... speaking of charming, there's something about El referring to (de Clancy?) as her cultist which is neat. It's so innocuous, and threatening, given everything that's happened before now, though I'm starting to think you guys can't go anywhere without taking hostages lol. Continuing what I've said about Seiko being honourable, I might have read it wrong, but I took his remarks about stealing an ambulance as an indication that he was not alright with it. It's a sentiment I agree with (people need those), but again, it's almost odd to see him as the voice of reason. Minor question though, is the kanji religion an established part of the Pacific Rimverse, or something invented for this? I ask since I had assumed the Assembly were the only tentacultists running around. damnation. Now I really don't want to be in de Clancy's position. Forget ever seeing his niece again, right now, the best outcome I can see for him is being arrested and charged with conspiracy. The reason I call that the best is because being in the custody of a man who likes children, a woman with maternal instincts for her in her head, Eleanor(not much more to be said on that front especially since given how creepy her parting words and smile were), and all three are working for a woman with the money and contacts to make sure that, if he died, his body would never, ever be found. He is in so much trouble. That last scene reinforces what I said. Having him shrink away, then just shrink is funny... but damnation. He is so completely screwed that it's almost not even funny. I know you guys have a tendency to take them alive, but I honestly can't see Cultist Ryan making it to the end of the week.

Pizza was disappointed;

Won't be joining

When you throw money outside during a storm, then pick up to use as superpower fuel.

The Shard of Obedience. Phenomenal cosmic power! Ittybitty living space

Named Lys. The

Decisions, decisions. Forging would be interesting to play with, though I doubt if .i'd have the patience to spend time learning and crafting all the necessary details for it. I would also say Returned (immortality, perfect physique and senses, Awakening? Awesome!) except that if if I was the only one with Breathes, we'll, I'd rather my reign not last only a week. I have to say Feruchemist. It seems like the most versatile system there, and the easiest to implement into modern life beyond going insane and declaring myself a magic casting God.

Honorspren. It was

The Shard of Timeliness. I hear it's the shard men value most.

Hehehehe... Feather, you have made my day. Vee vs fiVe? Just the confrontation I wanted to see. I suppose I ought to thank Seiko for outing her to Zhu; given the minor scene between fiVe and Seiko's sister, and the fact that he already putted her to Sulvie, I'm looking forward to a scene between those two, in private. I imagine it wouldn't go well. It seems like Vee has a slightly different opinion of fiVe than Sylvie dies, or at least she's better at framing her argument. It's also kind of neat to see Sylvies arguments get used against Vee. Calling her Sylvies mind-slave makes her sound like she's the defective one. At the same time, it's interesting how Vee doesn't refer to fiVe as being broken. She calls her mentally ill. I wonder if being an AI makes Vee more willing to accept fiVe as more than a rewritable computer code the way Sylvie does. Scene two, and I like Katie's money being used this way. I know she financed the boat at the beginning, but since then, the fact that she is so inordinately wealthy hasn't really been relevant. It's kind of fun to see her just buy her way into places. I'm sort of surprised by her leaving though; what business is more important than this? Besides that i liked seeing the others operating without her, and this kind of reinforces my earlier belief that Miranda is the Cap to Katie's Iron Man. And that is an interesting cliffhanger to leave on, even if I'm not sure cliffhanger is the right word for the end of a scene... Two scenes with fiVe in one session? Hehehehehe... Actually, I have to say, Katie and the rest of the team are surprisingly accepting of fiVes independence. I still haven't watched Pacific Rim, but judging by Vee being her pet project, I can guess that these particular AI's aren't the norm. Is this a typical reaction for most people in the PR universe, or these characters reacting to special circumstances? And the last scene is basically set up, but I have to admit, I like the idea of the mystery hunt more than I do another gunning action scene; by now, you can take it as read that I prefer the drama. The only thing I really have to say about it is that what Eleanor did by getting in disguise seems like a good move that could so easily backfire, and I'm looking forward to how they start looking for her. My guess is that she's still in the hospital, at least for the moment, and I'm just interested in seeing how they track her down.

Okay, first, I know less about critiquing audio than I do fiction, so these reactions might be... Vague. The first one... I know I've almost gloated over how Sylvies is getting what she deserves. Congratulations on taking that away from me, because that recording makes her sound really miserable, and now I feel guilty. The second one... I kind of like it a bit more. Hearing the dramatisation of that scene was interesting. I like the vocaliser effect you have on fiVe. It's interesting hearing the contrast between her and Sylvie; I have to admit that I sometimes 'hear' fiVes voice as being colder or more mechanical than Sylvies, with emotion denoted by the stuttering. I know that's not exactly how you describe it, it's just... how I have it in mind. Sorry. Honestly I... Just have no idea what to say. Audio isn't my medium.

The Shard of Snowden Every time you tell someone that their government is--- hey, wait, what are guys doing her- The Shard of Patroitism "[shard] bless [shardworld]"

No. You did it all wrong. What? No. I'm not trying to make you feel bad out of a missplaced sense of jealousy that your introduction topic is better than mine. Of course I'm talking to you. Who else would I be talking to. YOU'RE THE CRAZY ONE HERE, NOT ME. (Or, "welcome" as some people might say.)

Chapter Three, or as I call it "Where originality goes to die". Story Two: Kayla {Ongoing} Chapter Three: Acquaintances. Kayla left the medical wing early in the next morning, with heavy eyes and a head that was still reeling. She wished that she had been allowed to leave earlier- the ache in her brain had nothing to do with the blow. It was because two hours before her discharge lieutenant Vena had appeared to give her leave. Kayla hadn’t been trying to sleep, but when the lieutenant arrived, she was doing that by just resting her eyes. So, when she was aw- alerted to the officer’s presence, it was with a sharp click of her tongue. Then she opened her eyes, and the expression on the woman’s face made her wish she hadn’t. “So, you’re the cadet who wants medical leave?” Her tone was clipped and professional. Kayla began to fidget as Vena looked her up and down, suddenly conscious of how soft the bed she was lying on was, how comfortably she had spread herself out. “You look like you’re suffering,” the officer finally said, folding her arms. Kayla felt a rush of angry blood to her cheeks. “Lieutenant, I-“ “What’s your name?” “Kayla, sir,” she answered automatically. “Cadet Kayla.” “Fine, Cadet Kayla. Two week medical leave, on doctor’s orders. I’ll have someone else cover your rota in the meantime.” She fixed Kayla with a stare, and she wondered if this was why the lieutenant hadn’t bothered wearing a helm for this. She pulled herself up a little as shame dragged her down. “Lieutenant-“ “Medical leave, cadet. It’s yours.” She looked her up and down once more. “Try not to get too comfortable.” There was no worry of that. After she left, Kayla pulled herself upright, almost perching on the frame of the bed. She took her helm off the cabinet from the night before, tracing the round dent on the back with a finger. She was still there when the doctor returned to discharge her, with the lieutenants looks and thoughts shouting through her head. It wasn’t my fault, she thought. I didn’t know what he was going to do. And I told him not to hit me that hard… Wait, did she? She shook her head to dislodge the memory, but the moments between being printed and being knocked out were still a slightly hazy blur. Not surprising. She had spent the night doing her best to forget what had happened, not remember it. She crossed the training yard, dancing between the straw targets. They were about the size of the thief. For a second she felt like taking a swing at one of them then realised that they were about the same build as he had been, too. She felt a fresh sting of guilt, and kept her eyes to the floor until she reached the weapons room. It was a spacious area. The dummy’s outside were for practicing strokes on, for formations and discipline. This hall, made of plain grey blocks with benches along the walls for observers, was where the real training took place. Armed combat. Unarmed combat. Defensive techniques. One-on-one. The cadets had to spend at least six months training here, and were supposed to keep it up throughout their year of service. Sometimes, when Kayla had been resting or watching demonstrations, she had seen guards in their second- or third-year of service. She supposed that after a year regular training became part of the routine. At the moment though, the hall wasn’t being used, something that she felt inordinately grateful for. The master-at-arms would still be there somewhere, of course, but facing up to him on his own would be better than facing him in front of a room of students. She knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and entered when summoned. Loren’s ‘office’ was just a small room off the main hall. The man himself sat at a desk, a long pipe in his hands. A thick smoke curled around the room, and Kayla stood at attention as far away from it as she could politely manage. The master-at-arms looked at her with a curious expression. Unlike the other officers of the guardkeep, Loren made a point of not wearing gloves, and having the cadets wear sleeveless training vests. It felt strange, especially whenever the yardwork involved wearing the full tunic and gauntlets of the justices, but it worked. Whenever he grabbed you by the shoulder to throw you to the ground, or to correct your mistake, you got a flash of the man he was. It was why, despite the wrinkled face and the bemused expression, Kayla made sure to retain her posture. The man was fair, but he was hard. “At ease,” he finally said, waving her forward. She inhaled discreetly and stepped into pungent cloud. A taste of the man was mixed with the smoke. It tasted like steel. “Cadet Kayla, sir,” she said properly, trying not to breathe it in. “I’m here to… to relinquish my arms.” He nodded, plucking at the few, twisted hairs on his chin. “And what arms might those be, exactly?” She held out the helm and he took it, turning it over in his hands. Despite herself, she flinched as he felt the metalwork. The helm and gauntlets were both made of burnished white steel. The gentlest touch would leave a clear and visible mark on it, and walking around with someone else’s Prints showing on her face, even if they weren’t affecting her… She suppressed a shiver. She had two week leave. Plenty to time to clean the plate. “Someone got the drop on you?” Loren asked, quietly tracing the round dent in the metal. Kayla nodded jerkily. “Yes sir. Doctor says I have two weeks leave. Have to take two weeks leave,” she corrected herself quickly. She thought he saw his eyes flash up at her, then look back at the helm. “I’ll have this done for you by then,” he said, setting the helm aside. “And the rest?” Again, Kayla felt a rush of shame. She pulled the metal gauntlets off and set them beside the helm. Like it, their exterior was made of metal, with thick leather padding for her palms. She began to unhitch her belt, to leave Stringer with the rest, but Loren waved disinterestedly. “What do I need your sword for?” he asked vaguely. “This is maintenance, not storage.” A smile split Kayla’s face. “Yes sir,” she said gratefully. She placed her bare palm against Stringers pommel, and her smile grew easier. This was hers. “I won’t forget this sir,” she added smoothly, bowing her head a little. Loren snorted. “No, I’m sure you won’t,” he said, shuffling with her things. “If that’s all, cadet, you are dismissed. I have work to do.” She smiled, nodded again, and left. She wasn’t sure what ‘work’ the old weapons master might have, but doubtless it would soon involve trying to teach a set of incompetents the right way to hold a sword. That might have been fun to watch, but after they day she’d had, a few hours’ sleep sounded more appealing. And her fortune seemed to be improving. When she reached her room, Sheron was gone. Her half-Ven barrackmate was the sort of person who wouldn’t let the topic go until she had found out where Kayla had been all night. Well, she is Vennish, she reminded herself, kicking her boots off at the foot of her bed. She took her hand off of Stringer, setting it by the head. She felt her spirits drop slightly when she did, some of the confidence she’d had fading, but not much, and what was left would last for a while yet. There were perks to being so susceptible to Printings sometimes. She pulled off her tunic, setting it on the chest. Some of scales woven into the fabric caught the sunlight through the window, reflecting it against the walls. Like the helm and the gauntlets and the boots, the tunic belonged to the guard. Whenever she was finished with it, whether they meant retirement, or quitting, or death, they’d be scrubbed afresh, inside and out, and passed on. Everything that she was would be wiped out of them. The only thing that she had to give them, to pass on down the guardline, was Stringer. And what will the next person think of that? she wondered, pulling a sleeveless vest over her head. She wasn’t like the others who had carried it, the ones whose Prints were so deeply embedded in the sword that she felt them just by brushing it. Touching it filled her with courage, confidence. Maybe,-she admitted with a grimace- Maybe it makes me a bit arrogant. But then, of course it would. Stringer, and the shards of the previous blades that had been forged into it, had been used by heroes and champions. The hilt had been seized and woven with those of noblewomen and marshals. And now it was being used by a girl from the slums. Whenever the next person took Stringer, whoever they might be, would the freshest thing they’d get an impression of be guilt and unworthiness? Maybe it wore off quicker than I thought, Kayla thought, pinching her nose. She shook her head and got into the bunk, pulling the covers over her. It still felt strange, to be lying on a mattress rather than a muck floor. Her scalp felt uncomfortable against the pillow, but her hair had felt uncomfortable squashed into the helmet; at least this was something she could maybe get used to. More than that, it felt strange because she’d Printed the bed whenever she made it. It wasn’t as reassuring as touching Stringer was, but having herself Print against her was strangely relaxing and comforting. At least it meant she was who she was, and not some thin thief stealing from a stall in a market. She rolled over in exhaustion. Belatedly, she raised a hand, and pressed her thumb and forefinger against her eyelids. It was meant to be a prayer for night, but she was sure that doing it before sleeping in the morning would work fine as well… Sheron said that she was jealous of Kayla’s leave. That might have been true. The Vennish woman had suggested some things for her to do during her time off, and maybe if she was the one with medical leave she wouldn’t be feeling quite so stir crazy. Unfortunately, she wasn’t, and Kayla was. She had spent the week since her discharge loitering around the compound. It wasn’t a requirement; when they were off-duty, the guard were free to come and go as they wished. On the occasions whenever they both were off-duty at the same time, Sheron had suggested doing just that- heading into the city for an hour or two. “You need a change of scenery,” she said, swinging a sword at Kayla’s head. She raised her own weapon. There was a wooden thump, mostly muffled by Loren chastising a new batch of recruits. “Why do you keep aiming for my head?” Kayla demanded, thrusting. Sheron turned the sword aside with the back of hers, stepping backward. “Because now I know that it’s your weak spot. Not taking advantage of that would be silly.” She lunged forward with an overhead chop. Kayla lifted her weapon to block, but her opponent shifted, the blow that was going for her skull connecting with her shoulder. She dropped the sword as a spasm ran down her arm. “Besides,” she added, planting her sword beneath Kayla’s chin, “if I hit you, you might get another two weeks off. You are welcome.” Kayla smiled grimly. “You’re cruel.” “And you are unimaginative.” Sheron sighed dramatically, stepping back. Kayla stooped and retrieved her sword, and the two began circling one another again. “You have a reason to enjoy yourself, and you’re wasting it. I understand not wanting people to think you’re lazy, or faking it, but isn’t this going a bit far?” Says you, Kayla thought darkly. Sheron was the better swordswoman. She was lithe and quick; at times like this, when she was ahead in points, she got annoyingly graceful. She was balancing the wooden training sword evenly, swinging it loosely in front of her while Kayla held hers firmly with both hands. The worst part, though, was that she hadn’t held a sword before she joined. Her father was a merchant from Ven, her mother a stall owner. Kayla wasn’t exactly proud of it, but growing up, she had at least handled a knife. She’d never used it, but at least she knew how to use it. It felt as if Sheron was cheating. Well, maybe I should too. Tired of waiting for an answer, Sheron made the first move. She moved forward, thrusting her sword the way Kayla had done. She couldn’t brush it aside with the same grace Sheron had, so she just knocked it away. The strength behind it knocked the Vennishwoman off balance for a second, and Kayla stepped into the gap. She twisted her leg behind Sheron’s, and shoved. She fell backwards, landing on her back, and Kayla held her sword over her chest triumphantly. “I thought we were practicing sword combat,” Sheron said, almost petulantly. Her lips turned down. “Not grapples.” “I thought I was chasing a thief,” Kayla answered. “Not a six foot man with a swing like a guardcaptain.” She smiled. The more she said that, the more she was beginning to believe that that was what had happened. Sheron sighed again, raising a hand. Kayla grabbed her by the arm, Sheron doing the same. Both were wearing the same sleeveless training vests and thick gloves as the rest of Leron’s trainees. “That’s one to you then,” the woman said, dusting herself off, “and a lot more than one to me. Do you want to go again?” “Not really,” Kayla admitted, shaking her head. She was shorter than Sheron, and stronger, but even her shoulders were starting to ache from the blocking and fighting. “Good,” her friend answered, a grin spreading across her face. “Then you can get back to answering my question.” Kayla grimaced. Part of being raised by traders, she assumed; Sheron would work her way back around to what she wanted one way or another. “No,” she answered, replacing the training blade in the weapons rack. She saw the expression on her friends face, and added, “I mean, no, this isn’t going too far. If I can’t go on patrol, the least I can do is keep in shape.” Sheron looked at her. “And that’s all it is?” Kayla turned back to her. She was staring at her intently. Sheron had blue eyes, eyes she said she got from her Tamith mother, but her skin was speckled the light and dark colours of both her parents. What has she heard? Kayla thought, a momentary panic running through her. Okay, so her isolation was unusual, she could admit that. If it was happening to anyone else, she’d probably be gossiping about them behind their backs too. But she didn’t know how to explain it in a way that Sheron- or anyone else for that matter- would understand. She didn’t talk about her childhood to any of them. So far as they knew, she was just another recruit from a middle-family, earning some extra coin, and the longer she spent inside the guardhome, the longer she could put off any possible repurcussions from her bluff in the Tangles. And there was something else. It wasn’t what she liked to admit to. During the day, she told herself that she was spending time here because she didn’t want to look bad in front of Lieutenant Vena or Sargent Keron, wherever he was. At night, though, when she was lying in her bed, her conscious rubbing against itself, she thought about the guard who had brought her back. Arlan. It was a stupid thought to have. She didn’t know what he looked like, and she was probably just thinking about him because he was the first person she spoke to after she was attacked. Still, whenever a guardsman nodded at her, a small part of her wondered if that was him before he moved on… “Why do you ask?” she said carefully. “You really have to ask?” Sheron walked closer to her. “I’m worried,” she said quietly. “You got hurt, badly. I know, I know-“ she added, as Kayla made to interrupt “-‘it wasn’t that bad’. But the doctor said it was, and you haven’t gone outside in a week. Kayla…” She hesitated, chewing her lip slightly. “If you’re worried about getting hurt again,” she finally said, “maybe you should try and resign now. There’s no shame in doing that.” Kayla stared at Sheron, blinking rapidly. “Is that what people have been saying about me?” she asked quietly. “That I’m afraid?” “What? No,” Sheron said, frowning. “Why would people be talking about you?” She stopped, and grinned. “Oh, now I see. You got hit because your head was too big.” Kayla looked at her, affronted. It worked until she caught the glint in Sheron’s eyes; then she just felt her lip twitching. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “I know I am,” Sheron answered. The pair of them went outside into the training yard. “It’s why I joined up. I get less marriage proposals this way.” Kayla laughed under her breath. She doubted it. Ignoring her friends mixed descent (uncommon enough to be attractive in itself), she was tall, and even her armour looked lean. Unlike Kayla, she hadn’t cut her hair off completely, and a bob of dark hair danced around her neck. “Well, I joined up for my own reasons too,” Kayla said. “And I don’t intend on quitting just because I had one rough day.” Sheron looked at her again, with those intense blue eyes, and again, Kayla felt like she had opened her mouth and said the wrong thing. “Everyone has reasons for what they do. Most people who join the guard do it for money. Now, me,” she added lightly, “I’m doing it because marriage would be unfair to everyone else. But I don’t think you’re in this for the pay.” Kayla found herself nodding. A voice inside chastised her that that was stupid, an admission. “Money is good,” she said slowly, dragging her feet, “but that’s right. That’s not what I want.” “Then what is?” For a moment, Kayla considered telling her. Would it be any less stressful? Everyone thought of people who came from the Tangles as crooks, roguish conmen at best, sociopaths at worst. She wasn’t either of those, and she never had been. Would telling someone where she was from, telling her best friend where she was from, make things worse? Then she remembered the night in the alley. She might not think she was a liar, but acting like one had been easy. Being a guard, and being respected, that was hard. And that was what she wanted. “It’s personal,” she finally said. She glanced at Shero with guilt. “Oh, fine,” she said, shrugging. “Keep your secrets. Just don’t be surprised if people come to their own conclusions.” Kayla opened her mouth to ask what that meant when something caught her eye. She frowned, walking briskly past Sheron to a board just inside the building. The barracks were connected to the yards and the outer buildings by a hallway, and near the entrance was a board. Pinned against it were a series of scribbles, detailing crimes and rewards. Some were only a few sentances, a vague description with a reward. Kayla always ignored those; they weren’t any good to someone who couldn’t read. But there were others, posters which had a picture of the criminal in question. Someone had realised that some of the guards were better with those, and had added drawings at the bottom to indicate what they were wanted for, and how they were wanted. It was one of those drawings she was looking at now. She pulled it off the board, her hand shaking Sheron came up behind her, looking over her shoulder. “Ugly one, isn’t he?” Kayla said, laughing. She looked at Sheron, but she didn’t dare look in her eye. If she didn’t, then she could pretend that this was working. “What does it say he’s wanted for?” Sheron looked the page over- she had learned to read to help her father- and winced. “Not just ugly,” she said. “Dumb. Very dumb. They don’t have a name, but he’s wanted for assaulting a highborn.” Kayla nodded, laughing again. “Wow. That is dumb.” She looked at the page, and then turned back to Sheron. “Hey, do you mind if I go back to our room? You must have hit me harder than I thought.” She looked Sheron in the eye when she said that, and saw how utterly unconvinced she was. Even so, the woman smiled. “Of course I did,” she said. “Like I said, I was winning. I want to go out anyway,” she added. “The only reason I was here was because I felt bad leaving you alone.” “Because you have so many people you could have spent time with?” Kayla prompted. “Exactly. But I’m not a nursemaid, so if you intend on lying in bed all day…” She shrugged again, turning outside with a wave. “I’ll be back later to show off all the things you missed a chance at having.” Kayla laughed after her, and waited until she had gone out the guard entrance. Then, she shoved the wanted notice into her pocket. She didn’t want anyone else seeing it and trying to claim it while she was gone. It took her some time, but she eventually found Lieutenant Vena’s office. Ever since she’d been discharged, Kayla had seen the woman around the guardhome; she’d seen her often enough hat it just became convenient to know where she was, when she was, and make sure not to be there. Whenever they had met, the lieutenant hadn’t said anything, but she had looked her over with cool, dispassionate eyes and disapproving lips. It just made Kayla feel more and more guilty. And now she was going to confront her. She took a moment to collect herself, then went to knock. Before she did, a voice called, “Enter.” It made Kayla miss a step, right from the start. She opened the door and stepped inside. The lieutenant stood by a window, looking out at the city, and Kayla frowned. It was so obviously calculated to intimidate her that she felt almost insulted… until Vena turned and looked at her, and she felt genuinely intimidated. “Lieutenant,” she said, standing to attention. Vena looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. “Cadet.” It was a cold word, with no hint of recognition. Kayla felt her heart skip a beat. “I… Liuetenant Vena, my name is Cadet Kayla. We met-“ “When you went on medical leave. I remember, cadet,” she answered. She folded her arms behind her back. “How is your vacation?” Kayla’s jaw dropped slightly, but she set it quickly. “Relaxing,” she said obstinately. Don’t do that, a voice inside said. You’re here to ask for a favour, not to make enemies. “Really?” Vena replied, raising an eyebrow. “That’s odd. I thought it was hard to relax when you spent your days at training sessions. Most people would have left.” Something in her tone made Kayla frown. It was still cold, but there was something else. It wasn’t as harsh as it had been in the medical wing. It sounded almost… approving? Well. This is going to go badly. “Yes sir. Actually… that was what I wanted to speak to you about.” She swallowed. “I think I’ve been spending too much time here lately. I wanted to get approval for… for official leave.” If there was any sentiment in Vena’s eyes, it froze over. “Is your head acting up again, cadet?” she asked. “I’m sure we could have the doctor patch it up again.” “No ma’am, it’s nothing like that. It’s… personal.” “Oh. Then, I’ll give you a very personal ‘no’.” Kayla breathed deeply. “In that case,” she said slowly, “it’s professional.” “Stop wasting my time, cadet,” Vena snapped. “Which is it?” She reached into her pocket and unfolded the wanted notice. She spread it on the table in front of the lieutenant. “It’s both,” she said quietly, stepping back. Vena lifted the sheet, and looked at it. “I know this,” she said. “This went up this morning. Captain Yon mentioned it.” “What happened?” Kayla asked. The lieutenant looked at her. “Exactly what it says on the sheet,” she said carefully. “Lord Beron and some friends of his were on their way to a party at a common acquaintance. They took a wrong turn and ended up in the Tangles. They asked a woman for directions, and this thug beat them. Badly. Unprovoked, of course.” Kayla knew what that meant. She couldn’t resist asking “How badly?” “Worse than you were,” Vena replied. “Now, what does this have to do with you, cadet?” Kayla told her. Everything. When it came down to it, there actually wasn’t very much to tell, but she spent the time looking at the ground anyway, too ashamed to look up. Whenever she was finished, she continued to stare at her feet. There was a long, long silence. “Look me in the eye, Kayla.” She did. Vena stepped towards her, and forced the sheet back into her hand. When she spoke, it was slightly louder than usual. “I will not give an officer who is suspended from duty on medical grounds leave to investigate a crime, no matter their personal involvement. I would instead suggest that any officer who might want to do so should find their own time to do it in, possibly with vacation time.” “Yes ma’am. Thank you anyway, ma’am,” Kayla replied, turning to leave. “I would also advise any officer who wanted to find him to do so quickly,” Vena added. Kayla turned to look back at her. She continued. “As I said, Lord Beron was rather badly beaten. He and his associates have volunteered to help in any way they can. They said that the man in question stole a purse of coins from them, and suggested that they would pay a chiromancer to track him down and bring him in.” But they didn’t say who they would bring him in to. The unspoken part of the sentence hung in the air. “I think a chiromncers services would be better served elsewhere,” Kayla said carefully. Vena smiled. “We agree. In the interest of ensuring that, I would hope that someone bring him in soon.” Kayla nodded again, and gave another salute before leaving. She marched as calmly away from the office as she could; then, as soon as she was sure no one was watching, she ran. It felt like the page was burning in her pocket; she could feel it, rubbing against her legs like an uncomfortable reminder. There was no need for this. For any of this. She had told Vena everything, yes, but she could just replace the picture, or destroy it, and let things play out. It would close off that part of her life for good. It was tempting. It was very, very tempting… Instead, she found herself in front of her barrackdorm, and going inside. Sheron was waiting there, sitting on her bunk with her fist in her chin. Kayla stopped. “Sheron? What… what are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly. “I thought you were going out.” “I was,” the Vennishwoman replied, shifting her legs, “but as I did, I found myself feeling rather guilty. How could I enjoy myself, when my friend was lying in our room, maybe dead? So I came back. You seem to be doing quite well, though.” “Yes,” Kayla answered. “I am.” She shifted awkwardly. She felt the page burning in her pocket again. “In fact...” She hesitated. Sheron stared at her, raising an eyebrow. She looked angry, and worse; she looked hurt. She looked like she wanted an explanation, and the truth was, Kayla couldn’t think of one to give her. “In fact,” she said slowly, “I was thinking I might go out with you.” “Really?” Sheron sounded surprised. “What changed your mind?” Kayla reached into her pocket and pulled out the sheet. She unfolded it, and held it in front of Sheron. The picture was an embellishment. The artist had been working off the nobles descriptions, and they had made him as intimidating as possible. A thick neck, rippling with muscle. A low brow, with deep set eyes. A lip that was twisted into a perpetual snarl. But some features they hadn’t thought important enough to change, like the misshapen ears, a result of an ill-advised fight with Baldren. Enough to recognise him beneath the surface. “This man’s name is Roren,” Kayla said. “He’s from the Tangles, where he’s involved in a lot of crimes. The latest one was nearly beating a noble to death. He’s my brother.”

The Shard of NCIS Every time you drink coffee after someone killed someone, your powers grow.

appeared; but, unlike

So being spiked is sort of like the Brandon equivalent of the Sixth Heightening? Something to add to the 'to do' list then. Say, do your Featherlegions get any decent perks from this new arrangement?

The Shard of Reboot. Every ten or so years, the shard world shifts. People's costumes change, some of them disappear, and others get completely different personalities. The latest reboot resulted in everything becoming a lot darker and gorier, with everyone brooding to seem more mature, and a lot of middle-aged generations inexplicably vanishing. The people of the shard world don't notice, of course. That's the power of Reboot. The only ones who do notice are the world hoppers, and they spend most of their time trying to catalogue the continuity of that world and getting frustrated when it randomly changes. And don't even get them started on the time someone decided to make a Reboot happen by punching the Shard and fusing it with the Shards of Wildstorm and Vertigo...

Commencing bombing commenting run. Okay, scene one, and again, I think there's a nice bit of character development for El. Besides the new information that she likes using accents just because (which, as someone with an awful one, I find adorable) I like how she refers to Sylvie as being missing. It reinforces her actions in the previous sessions, that she almost seems like she's writing her off as a casualty or a convert. Hearing the brig get mentioned again was funny, though I doubt Lucy will be as helpful as Greg was, and you guys really ought to invest on a better prison. I also had something to say about Katie and contacting Rachael, but then I heard Zhu was in an apron. Which, for some reason I can't articulate, is mind blowing. It's so... strange seeing Marshall badass being domestic but it rounds out her character as more than just being cool and tough. It's a bad habit, but I enjoy scenes where characters are discussing things, so I liked this. Again, I thought there were some neat character things being done by all of the players, like Seiko being the first to mention Deena, and Eleanor's bad day getting... well, worse. Zhu nearly calling Katie by her first name was sort of interesting too. Until now (partly based on what you said) I had assumed Katie's crush was one-sided. Given the moment of respect between them, I thought that if Zhu was going to be affectionate to one of the PCs, it might be Eleanor. I might be forgetting a particular moment between them earlier, but it makes me wonder if anything happened between these two between sessions. Well, the prophet sure is creepy. Like I said before, I think, right now, what's happening to Sylvie is fitting, so I just want to talk about the Prophet. I thought his reactions to Sylvie was interesting. The way he paused before saying vision makes me wonder what's going on. It could be that he needed a second to think of a word to encompass the religious event, or maybe he's talking about the earlier nuke. In that case, I'm curious how far back this cults influence reaches. Your ketek says they refer to Miranda as the false prophet, and Sylvie is the blessed snowflake. I wonder how (or if) the rest of the team fit into things. Seiko is Miranda's love interest, Eleanor has family in the group, and Katie is, on her own words, a blasphemer against the Judges. I wonder if that's all coincidence and, if it is, how that all ties into the Assembly's theology... First, minor grammar point. You missed the word 'seem' when Katie is comparing Sylvie and Syl-Vees social skills. Besides that... I'm intrigued by how Syl-V comes across here. I think this is the first time we've seen her interact without Sylvie around, and, again, the way she mixes up her pronouns adds to how interesting the drift relationship (and the inevitable confrontation with fiVe) is. Like I said, Sylvie sort of deserves to be where she is, so I'm with Katie on making a list of curses, which may or may not be magical in nature. Eve seems to be a lot more aware of Sylvies faults than she is. You said Sylvie was tempted by the tech, and Vee knows that, but she still realised much quicker what a bad idea it was. The Vs might think their the same, but even the two who stuck together are slightly different, even if they are still, as you said, co-dependant. Having the whole scene (more or less) from Lucy's POV is an interesting decision. I think Greg had one of those last time, but, again, I doubt Lucy is going to be as helpful or friendly as he was. Seeing things from her side did remind me how creepy El and Seiko can be though. I've said it before, but the disgust that Eleanor has here, referring to the Assembly and Lucy as tentacultists, goes a long way to explaining why she is so, as other characters have noted, scary. Sure,the giggle she gives is part of the bluff, but, I'm still filling it under my personal theory that, of the main cast, she's a little unhinged. It was kind of strange to have that juxtaposed with Seiko. You know I've been the greatest supporter of him, and when he tried to discuss things with Zhu earlier, I thought 'now isn't a good time' right before she did. His line about being disgusted at Lucy working with J-Tech following her conversion though... I hesitate to use the word (since it's so stereotypical, and not entirely accurate) but that along with his concern for children, really is building him up more as a man of honour. Speak of the devil and she shall appear. This whole final scene with fiVe and Miranda seems like a mirror of Katie and Sylvies, and I love that sort of thing. FiVe is cogent of Sylvies flaws, just like Vee is, but she's less willing to brush over them; even Vee had to admit that she would probably done the same. The earlier scene was Vee calling Katie for help, this one is Miranda calling Vee; Vee is worried about Sylvie being captured, fiVe was gleeful over it being a 'trap'; I just love that sort of reversal. The fact the scene ends with Vee being added, meaning it's entirely possible those two mirrors are about to see each other has me really excited.

Congratulations on the promotion, at least until Ruin emerges from his shard pool to take possession of your body, enslave your soul, and make you a part of the spiked legions that will hasten this and every other world down the path of entropy : ) Does this mean you know what the higher metal hemalurgic spikes do?!?

You probably noticed that I like this sort of semi- disorientated narration, so I like the opening. Ignoring anything that you said about heart stones out of story, it piques curiosity in what 'Derek's hearthstone' is. That said, I don't like 'Whack!' as the way to transition between them. I don't generally like those sort of sound effects, but punctuating it with an exclamation mark seems inappropriate. It sort of makes me think the piece is intended as a YA piece, rather than, say, adult fantasy, and I'd suggest changing that somehow; maybe giving us a POV of Derek as the pain recedes then flares up again?In general though, I think you used the hearthstone concept well, which I'll talk about in relevant places. Does a heartstone give a visible sign that it's healing someone? If so, maybe you should mention that here. If not, then how does Derek know that it did that? I liked having the names of charges and their effects dropped so casually into conversation. It helps give the impression that this magic is very well known and widespread, which I'm assuming was you intention since you mentioned nearly everyone having charges. Snakebites seem to have a lot of nasty side effects for someone on the receiving end of them; I like the aching part (and the numbness that almost makes him drool) but the amnesiac aspect seems a little odd. Granted, it's really early in this story, and I'm not sure what sort of charges Bird was using, but at the moment, it does seem like a slightly convenient way to get into Derek's head quickly. I also think that having Tarbe talking about talking to Derek after Derek thinks how Tarbe never talked to him (er...) was maybe a bit on the nose. It has a good pay off with Tarbe's comment about worthwhile ideas later though, so... The old man stopped waiting and snapped, impatiently. "You've knocked your brother twenty paces. He's hurt. Help me." Tarbe lurched off, his gait unsteady. Derek kept staring for a moment, but he composed himself enough to follow. The scent of roasting almonds still hung in the air, aftermath of the fight, and the sand slipped under his feet. If Bird had tagged him, his heartstone was going to be less than useless in banishing the headache - he'd need Bird's red charge for that. Hah, practicality from both of them. I like it. I also like the way you've shown Derek's charge being used beyond combat situations. I like you describing the pain as a chisel (since their heartstones) but I don't think we should have Birds POV here. If you intend on having him be a major character in the future, this paragraph doesn't give us much insight into his character, and sandwiched between Tarbe and Derek it kind of loses some impact. It feels a bit like a camera shot to transition between the pair rather thank a character in it's own tight. Another bit of magic I like, especially since you avoided the old knitting bones cliche. That said, I wonder why Tarbe referee to it as 'the hard way' since it doesn't sound particularly difficult or as if it left him tired. I like this. You explain how the heartstones work (mostly) in really clear detail, and it doesn't sound like exposition. The only line which doesn't quite fit here (to me) is Tarbe's thoughts of life without a heartstone. Maybe save it for somewhere more relevant, like if the characters meet someone in that situation? Sorry if I come across as overly critical. While I enjoyed it, there were just some bits which didn't quite sound right to me. Still, I'm looking forward to seeing the third chapter; you've really explained they heartstone side of things really well, and I'm curious to see where you go from here.

I'm not very good at art, so sorry if I don't comment correctly. I link that kinda stylised style. If your taking requests, I'd like to see more Jasnah, or maybe Shallan and the Cryptics?