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Kelsier and Quincy | Museum Room | strider <Raintalon>

Quincy nodded a little, unaware of Nico’s thoughts. They didn’t seem to know there was anything wrong,
“They were found in the deepest cave,” they said, nodding a little bit. “No one knows how old they are, but we do think that they came from a very rare species of hermit crab. We fear they may have gone extinct, but the shells remain - at least these ones do. They’re incredibly rare, one of a kind, even.”
They nodded a little more, then turned away, excited to get to the next topic.
“Is there anything in particular you’re interested in?” They added after a moment, glancing down at him with a bright smile. “There’s almost anything you could imagine here. Is there anything you’d lie to see?”

“Are we?” Kelsier asked, glancing at them as he walked. He was keeping an eye on the wall, too, but the conversation seemed just as important somehow...he didn’t like having left Nico alone, but he knew he could handle himself. He’d be fine. They just needed to make sure Quincy was, too.
“You seem to have a definition of what counts as a person, then,” he continued. “What makes me a person? What makes you? Nico? What is it, exactly, that makes you so sure we count as people more than they do?”
He looked ahead, turning it over in his mind. “I’m not willing to compromise,” he said finally. “The House wants us to bet? I refuse. There has been enough harm done in these walls, I will not let the House convince me to cause it, whatever the reasons it gives or the ethical loopholes it offers. I’m refusing to play the game.”

Kelsier | Museum Room | <Raintalon> strider

Kelsier turned, giving them his full attention as they snapped, his hazel eyes serious, though there was an intense light to them at the same time.
“You seem to know a lot about me for someone who’s never met me before this room,” he said quietly, looking them in the eye. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m under the delusion that I can walk away with no consequences? Listen well, Hange. I’m not an idiot, and I know I haven’t destroyed the House’ game...not yet. Yes, doing nothing is a choice - it is choosing to disobey the House. You think it ‘offends my sensibilities’? You think I’m taking ‘the high road’ because I don’t have what it takes to do what needs to be done?”
He stepped closer, head held high, eyes on fire. “Do you know how many lives I’ve taken, Hange? I don’t. How about how many I regret? Exactly one - because he didn’t deserve it. Do not talk to me about being comforting lies, or paths stained with blood. I am more than capable of making a hard decision, or ending a life when I deem it necessary. Just because I don’t agree with you does not make me who you think I am. Your bet is not one I’m going to take.”
He turned to keep walking, jaw set. They’d gotten under his skin, he realized, in more ways than one.

Hange | Museum room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

Well...it seemed they'd struck a nerve. They worked their own jaw, eyes narrowed, as he all but shouted back at them, the anger and guilt seeping into his tone past his previously cool exterior. He wasn't going to come to see their side on this - that much was clear. And he wasn't....wrong, exactly. They could even admire his convictions, to a certain point. But he was blind. His code was going to put them all in danger if this kept on.

Well, they weren't much of an optimist, but there was no point in being needlessly pessimistic, either. Whether or not there was another way out remained to be seen, and despite what Kelsier might have thought, they were not in a hurry to end Quincy's life. Not if there was no need to.

Nico managed a small smile, grateful that Quincy hadn’t made much progress on it. Even if they had… they likely wouldn’t have understood it. They couldn’t have predicted this situation. He took a deep breath, hoping they were wrong about the next artifact being the same. And then he saw it and his expression fell.
“(Oops).” It was the only word that could encapsulate the situation. He glanced at Quincy for a long moment, then gave a small nod, hoping they didn’t notice how pale his face had gotten.
“I will… be right back. Excuse me.” He pursed his lips, then he was melting into the shadows, stumbling out near Hange and Kelsier. He grasped at Kelsier’s arm for support, taking a moment to gather himself.
“We need to talk.”

Kelsier | Museum Room | strider <Raintalon>

Kelsier let his temper subside as he walked, glad they’d decided to stop talking, even if it didn’t mean he couldn’t feel their condescending thoughts bouncing off him like pebbles. So they thought him a fool. They weren’t the first, and they wouldn’t be the last. If he’d ever been inclined to change himself to suit how other people thought he should be, he’d lost it a long time ago. Their opinion of him didn’t matter as long as they didn’t do anything stupid with it.
He was torn from that thought a moment later by Nico’s hand on his arm. He looked down, searching the boy’s face quickly, his own expression intense.
Nico wouldn’t have left Quincy behind unless he was in a hurry. And possible because he didn’t want them near Hange, even with the two of them to protect them.
“What’s happened?” He asked, stopping and turning to face Nico completely.

Hange | Museum room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

Oh.

It seemed they had run out of time. Immediately as Nico...well, left, their eyes traveled to Kelsier, trying to catch his expression. What would he do now?

"Aaaah," they said, linking their fingers together and raising their arms in a stretch. "Seems the House is getting impatient with us. Any ideas, Mr. Find Another Way Out?"

Nico trusted Kelsier to be able to deal with Hange – he hadn’t stayed long enough to see what their reaction was going to be, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. He stumbled out of the shadows, almost falling as he did, but he managed to get to his feet before walking the few steps back to Quincy.
“Quincy?” he asked, voice soft. He tried to catch their eye, tried to seem less concerned than he was. “I… I need you to do something for me. I need you to find a place to hide, somewhere where you’ll be difficult to find, or at the very least difficult to get to. Is there a security room you can lock yourself in?” His dark eyes were wide as he looked at them, trying to impress on them the severity of the situation. Hopefully… hopefully they would listen.

Zuko really hadn’t meant to get upset. He hadn’t wanted to ruin anything by letting stupid emotions about his mom get in the way, but he couldn’t change it now. Sal had caught on, and for a brief second Zuko was terrified that his new friend was either going to laugh at him or tell him that he was weak for being bothered by it. A real man wouldn’t have been bothered by it. A real man would have borne it silently without having to tell anyone else that he was in pain. One more reason for Zuko to feel like he didn’t deserve to be who he was. He didn’t say that, though. The very last thing he wanted was for his new friend to feel sorry for him. He didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. Pity would get him nowhere.
“Hug… me?” Zuko asked uncertainly, eyes widening just a little bit. He stared at Sal for a long moment before dipping his head into a nod and awkwardly moving just a step closer to Sal to make it easier.
He didn’t quite pull back, just shifted so he could hear his new friend’s question.
“Turtle duck,” he mumbled after a moment, already sounding a little less bothered. “They’re the best.”

Newt frowned a little bit as he heard Juuzou’s question. The truth was… he didn’t really know how to explain that one. He could try his best, but he didn’t know much about brains or how they worked. He knew more about machines. They made more sense, sometimes.
“A subconscious is… well, it’s you, but it’s the part of you that isn’t like actively thinking. It’s the part of you that knows how to breathe even when you aren’t consciously thinking about breathing. But it’s also really good at processing trauma, my mum says. It makes it easier for you to deal with bad things that happen because you don’t have to think about it all that much to process it. Unless the bad thing is really big, then you might have to think about it actively. Your… your subconscious keeps you safe. And it keeps you you. At least… that’s how I understand it, but I could be wrong. My mum is a lot smarter than me.”

Noah turned to look at Ronan, excitement blazing in his eyes as his new friend seemed to get excited as well. He grinned, looking like he had just won the lottery or something even better. Perhaps he had. It wasn’t often he found a friend his age who got excited for him and was willing to do things like jumping off one table to land on another. And it didn’t even matter that Noah himself wasn’t cool, because his new friend didn’t seem to care one way or another if he was cool. He seemed to think he was cool anyway. Which just made Noah think he was cool.
“Some people don’t like it when people touch them. I was… I was worried you wouldn’t like it, cause I wanna think we’re friends, but we might not be if you don’t wanna be.” He shrugged, setting aside the thought.
“Lynch is a cool name. Which works, cause you’re really cool too.”

“Social studies are like history and Italian and English! Where you learn about lots of people and how they live and what that means for the world. I think, at least. That’s what my teacher said when I asked what it meant when she wrote it on the board. But that was before she got annoyed with me asking questions. I ask a lot of questions and I don’t think teachers like it very much. They think I’m trying to distract the class, but I’m really not!” He sounded slightly indignant at that, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing it out so he looked a little bit bigger.
“Huh? I’m speaking Italian. My English…” he frowned, knitting his brow as he tried to figure out how to translate what he wanted to say. “My English isn’t very good yet, but I’m trying, because I want to fit in if we go to America.” His accent was heavier as he spoke and he unmistakably mispronounced some of the words, but it seemed he was surprisingly good at mimicking sounds. It made learning languages easier.
“I like social studies a lot,” he added, still in English. “But it’s okay if you don’t like them. Science sounds fun, too! Especially cause your dad lets you explode things? I’ve never asked, but I don’t think my mama would be very happy with that. Maybe ‘cause explosions sound too much like the bombs we hear going off sometimes.” He shuddered at the thought, brow furrowing. “I wanna see your experiments. Even if they’re scary like bombs.”

Kelsier and Quincy | Museum Room | strider <Raintalon>

It wasn’t the first time vampire speed had gotten the best of the Mistborn.
In his defense, he was only half off guard, and he very nearly did move out of the way.
“Then we’ll make time - “
Kelsier’s voice cut off in a gasp as the vase hit its mark half a moment before he could dodge. He stumbled and dropped to his knees, catching himself on his hand and gritting his teeth against the feeling of passing out. He couldn’t afford to do that, not when he knew what they were going to do now. Quincy was in very, very real danger.
He forced himself to his feet, but they were already gone. He cursed under his breath and started off at a run, heading back in the general direction they’d come, and the way Nico had appeared.
“Damn, you, Hange,” he breathed, then raised his voice in a shout. “Nico! They’re coming for Quincy!”

Quincy turned, blinking a little as Nico came back, a wide smile at their lips for a moment before they heard him.
“Hide?” They repeated, their voice sounding just a little uncertain for the first time. The paused, blinking, as if trying to make the thought work in their head, then shook it off and smiled again. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand what you mean. The tour isn’t over yet…”
They broke off, hesitating again. “There’s no need to hide,” they said finally, their eyes wide as they looked back at him. “There is no security...no one ever steals from here.”

Hange | Museum room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

It didn't take Hange very long to find their target. Nico's disappearing act had left no trail behind, but this wasn't a terribly large place, and Quincy's scent was easy to track. They made a brief detour to the dagger room to get the weapon(they weren't certain it needed to be that dagger, but it was unwise to take chances), and before long, they veered around a corner and into the place Nico had just been - the hourglass room.

It was very low. They had known the situation was dire, but seeing the sand slip through the small device only impressed it upon them further - they had very little time to act before the danger to the other two(and themself, supposedly, though that they were less concerned with) became imminent.

They paused for just a moment...a millisecond that seemed much longer to them, upon sight of the curator bustling around, humming to themself and dusting the shelves.

Sorry.

And then, they moved. In one quick motion, they crossed the room, stopping just short of Quincy and slowing down as they drew the weapon, careful to stay behind them so they couldn't see what was about to happen. They flipped the dagger in their hand and aimed, ready to stab them right in the heart.

Nico was used to running, but he was also short and malnourished and he didn’t have a chance of keeping up with Kelsier, especially not while he was burning pewter. His eyes narrowed as he felt out for signs of life, then gave a sharp nod.
“Straight ahead and to your left!” he called to Kelsier, then let himself melt into the shadows one last time. He really couldn’t afford to keep doing that… but he had to save Quincy. He probably shouldn’t have left them alone in the first place, but he’d heard Kelsier’s shout, and… no time to think now. He reappeared a few feet to the right of Quincy, gaze catching on the blade of the dagger. And then he was between Hange and Quincy, something like ice in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare touch them.” He didn’t look at the hourglass. It didn’t matter how much time they had left, only that Quincy was innocent. Innocent and alive.

Kelsier | Museum Room | strider

“Nico - !”
But it was too late, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, anyway. He wished he’d stop shadow traveling, they both knew how much that took out of him, but he wasn’t about to bring it up now, not when Quincy was in danger of being killed for no crime but not being what Hange had decided counted as a person. They were both judge and executioner in their own head it seemed.
He rounded the corner just as Hange threw Nico to the side, the crunch audible even without tin.
He thought he’d been angry before. He thought he’d been angry when they talked to him like some stupid wanna-be hero type, like he wasn’t able to see the big picture. Like he didn’t spend his days ending the people he hated, bringing hope to people with none.
That was nothing. That was annoyance, not anger. There was a difference.
the moment Nico hit the floor, rage flared in the Mistborn. He flared iron and Pulled on the dagger, hard, hopefully to get it out of their hand completely, but if not then enough to yank it to the side and away from Quincy’s heart.
He flared pewter and iron, throwing himself forward and Pulling on the support beams, flying forward at near vampiric speeds.
He aimed a kick at their chest to knock Hange out of the way, then landed, stalking towards them, a dark look in his hazel eyes as he approached.
He flared pewter for strength as he shoved them, trying to pin them against the wall.
“It’s one thing to try and hurt an innocent person, to try to convince me to help you, to assume you know a single thing about me,” he hissed, voice quiet and deadly as poison. “But if you ever lay so much as a finger on my son again...you will remember that you’re immortal, not immune to harm. Do. You. Understand?”
He didn’t seem to realize what he’d said. He wasn’t breathing hard from his run, wasn’t flushed and gasping. He was deadly calm, and he meant every word.

Hange | Museum room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

Hange drove the dagger sharply downward, aiming to plunge it straight into Quincy's chest.

Instead, it was wrenched backwards with such force that the crack was clearly audible, the limb snapping out of its socket as if it were a twig. They barely had time to register what had happened before Kelsier kicked them in the chest, sending them flying across the room and crashing into the opposite wall, cracking the plaster with the force of it. They coughed, blood trickling down their mouth, and tried to get their bearings, but before they could, Kelsier pinned them against the wall.

They looked up, meeting Kelsier's gaze as they wheezed for air, trying to keep him in focus past the searing pain in their arm and stomach. And...well, everywhere. Now wasn't the time to assess the damage.

"You...idiot..." they said, blood-streaked teeth gritted as they struggled against him, forcing him to use any and all strength he had to keep them pinned. "I'm trying....to save your son....before....it's too late."

Hange | Museum room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

Giving up on getting away, or talking any sense into Kelsier, they planted their feet and rammed their head into his face, aiming to break his nose. No more talking. They were out of time.

As the crunch of Kel's nose reached their ear, they found themself released, but just as quickly, they fell, unable to support themself on a broken ankle they hadn't noticed they had. They hit the ground with a thud, hissing as pain swept over them like they'd swallowed hot coals.

Thinking fast, they looked around, spotting the dagger lying forgotten on the ground. They stretched their working arm out towards it, blinking bloody tears of pain out of their eyes as they ignored their body's protests. Just a bit further...