|
Post by Auransky on Jun 19, 2019 1:11:13 GMT -5
Elliot silently nodded. "Everyday leads to a new possibility. Technology advances , and when a solution is not immediate , the hunt for one soon follows."
His expression carried even more obvious disinterest. While Sandalphon, seemed to be in some sort of nostalgic moment , Elliot shifted His head towards the right. Surprisingly the conversation was somewhat fulfilling, given that the primarch was willing to engage in dkscussion. He glimpsed up to see the angel's more accepting expression. He briefly smiled, seeing the other man's satistfaction.
The lights went out , but it made no difference to Elliot. In fact having The lights off was better then this crazy light infested home. He suddenly remembered the other blinkers. He sat up now , looking at directly at the angel, who's red eyes beamed through the darkness. "I kind of like this setting." He softly shared. " This way I don't have to suffer with The intensity of every other room. "
Elliot spoke too soon. He couldn't help but wince , then cover his eyes briefly since the new light source was coming from the angel himself. "It appears that fate likes to play with the little optimism that dwindles in me." He shrugged, walking along the edge of the tanble counter until he made his way out. From there he walked over to the seated angel, now on the same side. " Might as well reconvene. "
(Looks like things went in your favor , afterall! Hange is unknowingly going to become a Dj.)
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 19, 2019 10:22:02 GMT -5
Nico noticed, gratefully, the extra distance that Kelsier was putting between them. It was a nice buffer, though it added to the confusion of what he was supposed to think of Kelsier. He knew that everyone had good and bad in them, but there was that and there was drastically shifting personality after killing someone when that someone comes back to life. Nico still had no idea what to make of the man, and for someone who usually cast character judgments pretty quickly, it was a weird in-between space to inhabit. Interesting, to say the least. He frowned when he came to the end of the platform and found nothing but a wall. He looked up, and sure enough, one surface was different than the other. "Stay here," Nico instructed Kelsier, though he highly doubted the Mistborn was going to listen. He frowned as he ran back towards the button, realizing just how exhausted he felt. The panic took as much out of him, it seemed, than his usual response to the overwhelming emotions. He had a tendency to push them away in the form of chill and death seeping out from under his feet, spreading maliciously and without mercy. He had a tendency to let the panic leave him in the form of his powers, but this time there had been nowhere for them to go. He had felt the panic before, but there was always a way to get rid of it more quickly, though it often meant losing control of his powers. He understood, now, why this time had been so different. He glanced back at Kelsier once he was once again near the purple button, and he pressed down on it with his foot, placing his whole weight upon it. To his delight, he saw the platform come down to where he had been standing. He stepped off, but it rose back up. Cursing under his breath, Nico stood back on it, waiting for Kelsier to get on the platform. Kelsier stopped as they reached the wall, and for a moment he thought their attempts to get out had been for nothing, but then he saw the different materials and realized what it meant at the same moment Nico did. His first impulse was to completely ignore the demigod and follow him back to the purple button, but he resisted the urge and stayed where he was. The room seemed designed for two players, which meant he probably had to go through the door and find a way to keep it open for Nico from the other side. Sure enough, it the platform above him lowered obediently to where he could easily reach it, and he climbed on. “I bet there’s another button somewhere up there so you can follow.” He called his theory back to the younger blinker, even though he suspected Nico had already come to the same conclusion.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 19, 2019 11:10:34 GMT -5
Noah's eyes widened as he felt Rue's arms embracing him, let her warmth soak in to him. He tried not to draw from her energy, but there was so much of it that it was hard to stay entirely unattached. He wondered why she was willing to embrace a dead thing, how she could look at him and still see something human. He knew in the end he would inspire horror, no matter how much he wished not to, but for now... well, for now he would appreciate what he had, and what people were willing to give him. He tentatively returned the embrace, his arms squeezing more tightly once he was sure that Rue wasn't going to let go immediately. He wished he could let her know how much it meant to him that she didn't run away. He knew the promise Rue made was a risky one. He knew that there was a lot on the line if things went wrong, and if the House ever decided to turn its gift of energy against him... well, he couldn't see the future here. He didn't know what the House could make him do. He knew he was almost entirely dependent on it though, and he had to trust it every time he blinked in. "Friend," he repeated, the word soft. "I haven't had a friend in a long time," he admitted. "I'm glad you're one." He let his eyes drift shut long enough to hold the embrace before he pulled away and glanced at Rue. "Thank you for not running." His voice sounded less strangled now. "Thank you for seeing me," he added, a bit of pain seeping into his voice. There were too many in his world who simply couldn't do that, and the simple gift of acknowledgement, of seeing him... it meant more than he could say. (TW: guns, blood, violence, and death. ) Thank you for seeing me. If only he knew how deeply she understood those words. Of course she wasn’t actually invisible, the way she now suspected he often was, but being a twelve-year-old girl in District 11 meant basically the same thing: few would notice and fewer would care if she suddenly flickered out of existence. She meant what she said, though. As long as he was willing to have her, there was nothing he could do that would make her stop being his friend. She let go and stepped back, and now that his secret had ended, ice settled deep in her chest and her heart raced. It was her turn now. she wanted to pretend she didn’t know what secret the House demanded of her. She knew perfectly well that she did, and now that she knew Noah’s deepest secret there was no way out of here without the words she’d never spoken to anyone searing her tongue. She looked down. She couldn’t bear to watch the kindness drain from Noah’s eyes, replaced with horror and disgust, once he knew. ”When I was eight years old, I learned how to steal.” She began dully, every trace of emotion suddenly gone from her tone. “I was good at it. I did it eleven times without anyone seeing me. And then, one day, a Peacekeeper looked up at the wrong moment.” she swallowed. Her voice shook a little, but she forced herself to continue, staring unblinkingly at a piece of dust floating gently to the ground. “I didn’t know anything was wrong until it was time for us to go home, and I jumped down from the last branch. I sing the song that means it’s quitting time, so I'm always behind everyone else, and....” She fell silent, choking on the blurry memories of what happened next. She couldn’t say it. She knew she couldn’t and she knew she had to, and it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She sounded strangled as she finally managed to pry the rest of the story from her throat, her eyes still glued to the floor. “He grabbed me. Knocked me over. I think he took the fruit I’d stolen and smashed it, but all I really remember is panicking and kicking and my cheek hurting really badly, and then he grabbed my face and I bit down and I think I tasted blood.” She felt like it was happening again. The pressure on her throat. The panic as she realized she couldn’t take a breath. “He got...so mad. I couldn’t breath. I don’t really remember what happened exactly, but suddenly my ears hurt and he stopped screaming and I could breathe again.” She let out a long, shaky breath, the worst of it over. “He died instantly. I guess I got lucky. I don’t remember it very well, but I remember he was so much bigger and heavier than I thought he would be. I dragged him as far away as I could, but there was no way I could dig a hole deep enough to bury him, to I just piled leaves on top of him until I couldn’t see him anymore.” Her hands were shaking. “It felt like I washed my hands in the river for hours, and they still smelled like blood. My shirt was ruined so I took it off and tore it up, and threw the shreds into the fastest part of the water. Then I went home.” How much was she required to tear from her memories? She didn’t want to have to do this again. She knew it was best to tell everything she could think of, hold nothing back, and then run when the door opened and never look back at the boy she’d promised to be a friend to, at the boy who wouldn’t want her anymore. “I told my family I went the wrong way and got lost. I lost my shirt when I tried to swim across the river. My dad yelled at me for being so stupid and scaring the, and my mom cried, but they believed me. Two days later they found the body right where I left it. Of course they knew someone had shot him, and they could tell someone had tried to bury him, so they knew it was a murder. Things were bad the week after that. They beat anyone they suspected and questioned everyone else, but there was too many people and they missed anyone who might have guess it was me. I was never found out.” It was over. She glanced over at the door, silently begging the House to let her blink out, let her go and hide in the darkest corner she could find, but it wasn’t so kind. Or course it wasn’t. “I think...I think the main reason they were so worried...” She finished, so quietly the words were barely vocal at all. “Was that they...never.....found the gun.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 12:01:52 GMT -5
Nico noticed, gratefully, the extra distance that Kelsier was putting between them. It was a nice buffer, though it added to the confusion of what he was supposed to think of Kelsier. He knew that everyone had good and bad in them, but there was that and there was drastically shifting personality after killing someone when that someone comes back to life. Nico still had no idea what to make of the man, and for someone who usually cast character judgments pretty quickly, it was a weird in-between space to inhabit. Interesting, to say the least. He frowned when he came to the end of the platform and found nothing but a wall. He looked up, and sure enough, one surface was different than the other. "Stay here," Nico instructed Kelsier, though he highly doubted the Mistborn was going to listen. He frowned as he ran back towards the button, realizing just how exhausted he felt. The panic took as much out of him, it seemed, than his usual response to the overwhelming emotions. He had a tendency to push them away in the form of chill and death seeping out from under his feet, spreading maliciously and without mercy. He had a tendency to let the panic leave him in the form of his powers, but this time there had been nowhere for them to go. He had felt the panic before, but there was always a way to get rid of it more quickly, though it often meant losing control of his powers. He understood, now, why this time had been so different. He glanced back at Kelsier once he was once again near the purple button, and he pressed down on it with his foot, placing his whole weight upon it. To his delight, he saw the platform come down to where he had been standing. He stepped off, but it rose back up. Cursing under his breath, Nico stood back on it, waiting for Kelsier to get on the platform. Kelsier stopped as they reached the wall, and for a moment he thought their attempts to get out had been for nothing, but then he saw the different materials and realized what it meant at the same moment Nico did. His first impulse was to completely ignore the demigod and follow him back to the purple button, but he resisted the urge and stayed where he was. The room seemed designed for two players, which meant he probably had to go through the door and find a way to keep it open for Nico from the other side. Sure enough, it the platform above him lowered obediently to where he could easily reach it, and he climbed on. “I bet there’s another button somewhere up there so you can follow.” He called his theory back to the younger blinker, even though he suspected Nico had already come to the same conclusion. Nico nodded, holding his position on the button, and then when it appeared unlikely that Kelsier would be able to get all the way up even by jumping, he stepped off of it and watched the platform slowly rise to the next level. All he could hope was that there would be a way up there that Kelsier could lower the platform again... otherwise only Kelsier was getting out. Yet, if only one of them had the opportunity to, he would rather it be Kelsier. Nico would find his own way home, and honestly he wasn't really looking forward to having to go there again anytime soon. As awful as dying and losing his powers had been, the fact remained that at least here the weight of the world wasn't nearly crushing him. Here, there was nobody relying on him. No world that he had to save. Yet he waited, hoping that the platform would descend again.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 12:20:32 GMT -5
Noah's eyes widened as he felt Rue's arms embracing him, let her warmth soak in to him. He tried not to draw from her energy, but there was so much of it that it was hard to stay entirely unattached. He wondered why she was willing to embrace a dead thing, how she could look at him and still see something human. He knew in the end he would inspire horror, no matter how much he wished not to, but for now... well, for now he would appreciate what he had, and what people were willing to give him. He tentatively returned the embrace, his arms squeezing more tightly once he was sure that Rue wasn't going to let go immediately. He wished he could let her know how much it meant to him that she didn't run away. He knew the promise Rue made was a risky one. He knew that there was a lot on the line if things went wrong, and if the House ever decided to turn its gift of energy against him... well, he couldn't see the future here. He didn't know what the House could make him do. He knew he was almost entirely dependent on it though, and he had to trust it every time he blinked in. "Friend," he repeated, the word soft. "I haven't had a friend in a long time," he admitted. "I'm glad you're one." He let his eyes drift shut long enough to hold the embrace before he pulled away and glanced at Rue. "Thank you for not running." His voice sounded less strangled now. "Thank you for seeing me," he added, a bit of pain seeping into his voice. There were too many in his world who simply couldn't do that, and the simple gift of acknowledgement, of seeing him... it meant more than he could say. (TW: guns, blood, violence, and death. ) Thank you for seeing me. If only he knew how deeply she understood those words. Of course she wasn’t actually invisible, the way she now suspected he often was, but being a twelve-year-old girl in District 11 meant basically the same thing: few would notice and fewer would care if she suddenly flickered out of existence. She meant what she said, though. As long as he was willing to have her, there was nothing he could do that would make her stop being his friend. She let go and stepped back, and now that his secret had ended, ice settled deep in her chest and her heart raced. It was her turn now. she wanted to pretend she didn’t know what secret the House demanded of her. She knew perfectly well that she did, and now that she knew Noah’s deepest secret there was no way out of here without the words she’d never spoken to anyone searing her tongue. She looked down. She couldn’t bear to watch the kindness drain from Noah’s eyes, replaced with horror and disgust, once he knew. ”When I was eight years old, I learned how to steal.” She began dully, every trace of emotion suddenly gone from her tone. “I was good at it. I did it eleven times without anyone seeing me. And then, one day, a Peacekeeper looked up at the wrong moment.” she swallowed. Her voice shook a little, but she forced herself to continue, staring unblinkingly at a piece of dust floating gently to the ground. “I didn’t know anything was wrong until it was time for us to go home, and I jumped down from the last branch. I sing the song that means it’s quitting time, so I'm always behind everyone else, and....” She fell silent, choking on the blurry memories of what happened next. She couldn’t say it. She knew she couldn’t and she knew she had to, and it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She sounded strangled as she finally managed to pry the rest of the story from her throat, her eyes still glued to the floor. “He grabbed me. Knocked me over. I think he took the fruit I’d stolen and smashed it, but all I really remember is panicking and kicking and my cheek hurting really badly, and then he grabbed my face and I bit down and I think I tasted blood.” She felt like it was happening again. The pressure on her throat. The panic as she realized she couldn’t take a breath. “He got...so mad. I couldn’t breath. I don’t really remember what happened exactly, but suddenly my ears hurt and he stopped screaming and I could breathe again.” She let out a long, shaky breath, the worst of it over. “He died instantly. I guess I got lucky. I don’t remember it very well, but I remember he was so much bigger and heavier than I thought he would be. I dragged him as far away as I could, but there was no way I could dig a hole deep enough to bury him, to I just piled leaves on top of him until I couldn’t see him anymore.” Her hands were shaking. “It felt like I washed my hands in the river for hours, and they still smelled like blood. My shirt was ruined so I took it off and tore it up, and threw the shreds into the fastest part of the water. Then I went home.” How much was she required to tear from her memories? She didn’t want to have to do this again. She knew it was best to tell everything she could think of, hold nothing back, and then run when the door opened and never look back at the boy she’d promised to be a friend to, at the boy who wouldn’t want her anymore. “I told my family I went the wrong way and got lost. I lost my shirt when I tried to swim across the river. My dad yelled at me for being so stupid and scaring the, and my mom cried, but they believed me. Two days later they found the body right where I left it. Of course they knew someone had shot him, and they could tell someone had tried to bury him, so they knew it was a murder. Things were bad the week after that. They beat anyone they suspected and questioned everyone else, but there was too many people and they missed anyone who might have guess it was me. I was never found out.” It was over. She glanced over at the door, silently begging the House to let her blink out, let her go and hide in the darkest corner she could find, but it wasn’t so kind. Or course it wasn’t. “I think...I think the main reason they were so worried...” She finished, so quietly the words were barely vocal at all. “Was that they...never.....found the gun.” As hard as it had been for Noah to admit his own secret, it was even worse watching the House force Rue to reveal hers. The fear radiating from her was practically tangible, and he had to stop himself from holding her in the way he used to hold his sister so many years ago. All he could do was listen as the words burst from Rue's lips, watch as she trembled and tried to force the words out, as she faltered and picked up... he had told his secret not just because the House had forced him to, but because he felt like he owed Rue the knowledge. What the House was doing here... it just felt cruel. He didn't want to listen because it was so clear that Rue didn't want to be saying it, but he knew he owed it to her as a friend to listen and reassure her that whatever it was, he would stick by her side. Just as she had done for him, right? It was hard to listen, he wasn't going to lie. Noah had never been the victim of bullies. He was the weird kid with the skateboard and the easy smile who nobody ever really noticed because he was in his best friend's shadow. And he had an influential and intimidating best friend. He had never gone through beatings or been caught stealing for food, because everything in his life had been given to him as a result of his father's money. This was not a story he ever would have heard at Aglionby or even in Henrietta. This was a world that made his blood boil hearing Rue talk about it. Peacekeepers, if that was what they were called, weren't supposed to beat up kids for stealing to survive. What the Aglionby boys did was one thing - hotwiring brand new cars to race and destroy in the same day because they knew they didn't want to wreck any of the five cars their parents bought them. Those were kids who got off scot free because their parents could pay off the local officials. Rue's life... the cruelty inflicted on her because she didn't want her family to starve... that was quite another. The little girl in front of him had killed someone. Noah watched her, listening to every word, something in his eyes registering as grief, perhaps? Or something deeper and more unreadable. It was hard to tell. Physically, it was easy to take a life. Noah knew how fragile his own was as it abandoned him bit by bit. He had registered the horror on Whelk's face, but there had been no remorse there. What Noah had experienced was murder. What Rue was describing... well, that was something entirely different. Did she blame herself for the others being beaten? Noah couldn't tell. He couldn't tell her that it wasn't her fault, because that wasn't objectively true, but he also knew that she hadn't had a choice. He reached forward and grasped Rue's hand, squeezing it tightly as though to tell her it was okay. As though to put forth every thought he couldn't quite word properly, to tell her nothing she said changed anything, to tell her that what she did was the right thing. He had stopped paying attention to the door. It didn't matter right then if they got out, just that Rue knew it was okay. She didn't have to bear it alone anymore.
|
|
Asexual
zeph!
tired + busy but i'd like to say hello again :]
|
Post by zeph! on Jun 19, 2019 16:32:05 GMT -5
Sky nodded absentmindedly at Arlo, her cheeks dimming in color. "Thanks. Nice to meet you." Then, she headed off into the farther parts of the pantry. She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment where butter might be. There wasn't refrigeration... She thought. Would it just be somewhere random? She wandered over to the smashed eggs and sighed quietly to herself. She allowed herself a moment, thinking about it, before moving on. But looking around, she noticed something that she'd missed before. Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and she gave a grin. Behind the eggs lay sticks of butter. Sky made her way over, and hastily checked each stick to make sure they weren't spoiled. She gently picked up two fresh-looking ones and went back to the others. "Found the butter." She announced, before putting them down on the counter. (Darn, my roleplay avatar didn't show up )
|
|
Asexual
zeph!
tired + busy but i'd like to say hello again :]
|
Post by zeph! on Jun 19, 2019 16:35:18 GMT -5
(Does this work? Sorry lol)
(DARNNNNNNNN)
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 17:23:55 GMT -5
</div>Nico grinned, the challenge coursing through his veins as he heard the game start. There was a sort of camaraderie here that Nico missed - perhaps he had forced the distance on himself in his world, but here it was alive and well and it was just him and Matt against a room full of people created by the House. He narrowed his eyes in a challenge at these faceless enemies and, doing his best to cover himself, shot at them. He saw the lights on the vest he was aiming at flicker out, then turned to Matt to see if he was doing this right. It was a lot easier than aiming an actual weapon, that was for sure, because you never ran out of tries with this. He made eye contact with one of the figures, ducking behind the wall before he could be shot. "Let's hope they're all terrible shots," he joked, looking at Matt. It seemed the young man was nearly an expert at the game.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 18:31:20 GMT -5
Steve gave a sad smile, shaking his head. "I don't think Germany exists in your time yet. And even if it did, it probably hasn't done much wrong yet. They... as far as I'm aware, Germany was a better place before the twentieth century." Steve didn't know as much German history as he should have, but he was well aware of their involvement in the Great War and now the war that he was so desperate to fight in. "But maybe we'll all come home fine. Germany... it's in Europe, just a bit East of France. I don't suppose any of that rings a bell?" Who knew how much of the modern world had formed in Myrnin's time. Who knew how much of it he was aware of even if it had formed. He frowned at Myrnin's sad conviction. "Amico," he replied, pressing his hand to the boy's much smaller ones. He held Myrnin's gaze, hoping he could make the boy understand. "I don't know what you're going to do when you grow older, but if what you are now is any indication, then I'll have no reason to stop being your friend. And I want you to know, I always give my friends a fair shot, even if the rest of the world doesn't think they deserve it. There's nothing to stand for if not loyalty between friends. That's a promise." He raised his eyebrows, trying to figure out what Myrnin meant when he talked about monsters. "I've seen some very real people who became monsters, and I can tell you right now, you're at no risk of becoming one of them." None of that rang any bells. Myrnin didn't know much geography. He could probably tell you if something was far away, but a lot of what he knew was 'Rome' and where he lived and then everything else was just ... not. "I kinda know where Italy is," he admitted. "Or will be. Or something." He didn't know much about it and it made him sad. He was so far behind everyone else ... he'd be dead before he could meet anyone. As if he needed more reason to be sad. He had trouble meeting Steve's eyes. He couldn't possibly understand. He couldn't understand being taken to the hut, the new hut, that his father was in. That his mother took him to almost every week so he could look through the door at what - at who - was inside. How she would say that was what he was headed for. He shook his head just a little. He couldn't say that to Steve. He wanted to believe Steve. So instead he nodded. "Okay," he said, voice low. "Okay." Then he wrapped his arms around Steve's chest and couldn't be convinced to let go. He suddenly felt very tired. His eyes drooped and he buried his nose into his t-shirt. He was almost asleep on his feet in less than a couple of seconds. Steve nodded. "Italy... well, Italy's a bit of an issue too," he admitted, frowning. It didn't quite make sense to him how quickly the world had devolved into war, and how soon after the last one it had happened, but he did know that he wanted to make a difference. That was important to him. "I don't know if I'll be sent to Germany or Italy or Japan, if I manage to enlist at all," he admitted. Myrnin likely wouldn't know what Japan was, but at least they had been able to connect on the common point of Italy. "How do you know about Italy?" he asked suddenly, curious how this boy who was from before the formation of the country possibly knew about it. He smiled as Myrnin seemed to accept what he had said earlier. It wouldn't do for this kid to look at himself and see a monster. There were plenty of things that could make someone a monster, but nothing that existed at this young of an age. He knew far too many people who had been convinced that they were monsters for certain things, and he didn't believe a bit of it. Society had certain beliefs about things that seemed to deviate, and in almost all cases, society was wrong. He just hoped they were wrong about Myrnin too. He hoped Myrnin accepted that, because if he didn't... it was easy to fall into the trap of becoming exactly what society told you you would. He was about to say something else when he felt Myrnin's tiny arms around him, then the weight of the sleeping boy. He smiled softly to himself and picked Myrnin up, moving towards the couch where they could probably both be more comfortable.
|
|
|
Post by --cato phoenix on Jun 19, 2019 21:11:17 GMT -5
zeph!how are you linking/uploading the image?)
|
|
|
Post by Auransky on Jun 19, 2019 23:06:44 GMT -5
(Does this work? Sorry lol) (DARNNNNNNNN) ((Can you please link the image directly in a forum reply? I'll try to help. ))
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 23:13:42 GMT -5
Nico nodded, trusting what Sam said. He knew the last bit was probably a joke, but he flashed a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes and dropped, landing safely a couple feet below. He took a second to catch his breath, then appeared to melt into the shadow of the building and reappear under the bridge right at Sam's side. "I hope whatever connection the House gave us doesn't have that weird technology echo you get when you call someone in the same room as you," he joked, relieved when his voice sounded normal and not echoed over Sam's connection. Though he wouldn't know if it sounded echoed to Sam. Truth was, he didn't know enough about phones to know if that was really what happened, but he had been on the receiving end of a really odd Iris Message like that, and it... hadn't been a pleasant experience for his ears. He could extrapolate that a similar thing happened with phones, and he figured that was a metaphor Sam would understand better. "So... do we have a plan to get out?" he questioned, glancing at Sam. He appeared a bit more red than usual, but mostly unharmed. Nico couldn't quite explain why but he felt relief rush through him at that realization. "I doubt we're going to find much standing here under this bridge, and I can't feel anything that indicates an exit." "Ah!" yelped Sam, for the third time in this room. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart jumpstart for what might be the first time in two days. His eyes were wide, but he shook it off. He hadn't expected Nico to just appear like that. But he shook it off. He also shook his head. "Don't seem to be getting any echoes though." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, dropping his eyes awkwardly. He wasn't thinking about Nico much - at least not about his sudden appearance. He was thinking about the whole getting out of the room thing. He didn't think he could come out from under the bridge. Come on House, he thought. Give me and easy way out. He paused the expanse of the shadow covering, looking over the walls. He pointed along the wall, dragging a finger across the air. "This is the midpoint," he said, looking back at Nico. "We both roughly traveled the same distance to get here. So here is probably a start at least, because the House had us hear each other so we could get back to this point, right?" It was a hypothesis at least. "So I have to disagree, at least for now. Do you see anywhere else which might have a better option?" He was curious if Nico did, regardless of whether he wanted him to or not. He didn't think his concern was showing - of the sun - but he didn't want to be faced with loosing the one person who was still treating him close to normal. "There might be something on these bracings," he said, tapping his knuckles against one. "Or in the water." He nodded at the water. Nico frowned, considering that Sam might be right, but the truth was that he saw no easy way out here. He wished he could just shrug and say that Sam was probably right, but there was the issue of there being no obvious next hint. At least they had known to find each other when they could just hear voices, but now there was nothing. At least when Nico was being strung along by a prophecy there was usually a hint as to what was supposed to happen next, even if it was cryptic and unhelpful. "We could try every brick on this bridge and see if it's a trapdoor, or we could go on top and try the same thing. Maybe we have to wade into the water and then we'll reappear in the living room, which I would really rather not try unless we're out of options. Or maybe the House just thinks we enjoy acting like trolls from old faerie tales and plans to make us just disappear as soon as there's nobody around." Nico knew his sarcastic outburst wasn't quite fair, but the truth was he was quite annoyed and he really just wanted to get out of here and then maybe blink back to his world and figure some things out there. He was beginning to realize that maybe the House took too much energy from him if he was going to be at full capacity when he blinked home. "You do bring up some good ideas, though," he admitted reluctantly. He wasn't going to admit that he was as afraid of water as he was of heights... that felt like giving up too much of himself.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 19, 2019 23:23:09 GMT -5
Noah smiled at Myrnin's suggestion for the wish. "Maybe if I find Glendower first I'll ask him to give you the wish, so you can have whatever it is you want most in the world." It would give him more motivation to look. After all, as much as he wanted to be alive again, he wasn't going to waste a wish on it when he should have accepted his fate long ago, even if he was scared. And he was terrified. He wouldn't use the wish for himself, that was all he knew. He shook his head - he wasn't destined to find Glendower. That wasn't his role in this story. He turned his attention back towards Nico and began to sing the song that went along with the game, impressed by how quickly Myrnin had caught on. "Turn around, touch the ground, kick your girlfriend out of town, and..." he raised his eyebrow at Myrnin, cuing him on the freeze, just befor he shouted, "Freeze!" himself, and stood stock still in position. Yet even if Noah didn't have the belief or hope, Myrnin did. He shook his head a bit and then promised, "Then I'll wish for a surprise for you!" He sounded very cheerful about it. As the game continued, Myrnin couldn't help chuckling a bit. He stopped as soon as he saw Noah's little eyebrow twitch and then completely froze in place as soon as Noah said freeze. This included holding his breath, because he wasn't taking any chances. He watched Noah and tried not to blink either. He wasn't sure how serious of freezing he'd have to do, but he took no chances. He also watched Noah, waiting to see if he could spot any shifts in what his posture. He was going to win this! He also really needed to blink. Noah couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. It was odd, how selfless this little boy seemed to be when so many of the people Noah dealt with on a daily basis were cruel and selfish and honestly willing to do anything to push forward their own agenda. Noah hated that, but there was none of that when he looked at the little boy. Yet he didn't have a chance to let his thoughts out because now they were frozen, and poor Myrnin looked like he was about to pass out from not breathing. Noah sucked in a very deliberate breath that he didn't need in the hopes that it would let Myrnin know that, even though they were supposed to be frozen, breathing didn't count. He didn't want the kid to pass out over a simple game. Unless Myrnin decided to call him out on breathing, and then Noah would accept it but would have to find a way to state later that breathing was, in fact, okay. Nonetheless, he didn't blink either.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 20, 2019 9:09:24 GMT -5
(TW: guns, blood, violence, and death. ) Thank you for seeing me. If only he knew how deeply she understood those words. Of course she wasn’t actually invisible, the way she now suspected he often was, but being a twelve-year-old girl in District 11 meant basically the same thing: few would notice and fewer would care if she suddenly flickered out of existence. She meant what she said, though. As long as he was willing to have her, there was nothing he could do that would make her stop being his friend. She let go and stepped back, and now that his secret had ended, ice settled deep in her chest and her heart raced. It was her turn now. she wanted to pretend she didn’t know what secret the House demanded of her. She knew perfectly well that she did, and now that she knew Noah’s deepest secret there was no way out of here without the words she’d never spoken to anyone searing her tongue. She looked down. She couldn’t bear to watch the kindness drain from Noah’s eyes, replaced with horror and disgust, once he knew. ”When I was eight years old, I learned how to steal.” She began dully, every trace of emotion suddenly gone from her tone. “I was good at it. I did it eleven times without anyone seeing me. And then, one day, a Peacekeeper looked up at the wrong moment.” she swallowed. Her voice shook a little, but she forced herself to continue, staring unblinkingly at a piece of dust floating gently to the ground. “I didn’t know anything was wrong until it was time for us to go home, and I jumped down from the last branch. I sing the song that means it’s quitting time, so I'm always behind everyone else, and....” She fell silent, choking on the blurry memories of what happened next. She couldn’t say it. She knew she couldn’t and she knew she had to, and it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She sounded strangled as she finally managed to pry the rest of the story from her throat, her eyes still glued to the floor. “He grabbed me. Knocked me over. I think he took the fruit I’d stolen and smashed it, but all I really remember is panicking and kicking and my cheek hurting really badly, and then he grabbed my face and I bit down and I think I tasted blood.” She felt like it was happening again. The pressure on her throat. The panic as she realized she couldn’t take a breath. “He got...so mad. I couldn’t breath. I don’t really remember what happened exactly, but suddenly my ears hurt and he stopped screaming and I could breathe again.” She let out a long, shaky breath, the worst of it over. “He died instantly. I guess I got lucky. I don’t remember it very well, but I remember he was so much bigger and heavier than I thought he would be. I dragged him as far away as I could, but there was no way I could dig a hole deep enough to bury him, to I just piled leaves on top of him until I couldn’t see him anymore.” Her hands were shaking. “It felt like I washed my hands in the river for hours, and they still smelled like blood. My shirt was ruined so I took it off and tore it up, and threw the shreds into the fastest part of the water. Then I went home.” How much was she required to tear from her memories? She didn’t want to have to do this again. She knew it was best to tell everything she could think of, hold nothing back, and then run when the door opened and never look back at the boy she’d promised to be a friend to, at the boy who wouldn’t want her anymore. “I told my family I went the wrong way and got lost. I lost my shirt when I tried to swim across the river. My dad yelled at me for being so stupid and scaring the, and my mom cried, but they believed me. Two days later they found the body right where I left it. Of course they knew someone had shot him, and they could tell someone had tried to bury him, so they knew it was a murder. Things were bad the week after that. They beat anyone they suspected and questioned everyone else, but there was too many people and they missed anyone who might have guess it was me. I was never found out.” It was over. She glanced over at the door, silently begging the House to let her blink out, let her go and hide in the darkest corner she could find, but it wasn’t so kind. Or course it wasn’t. “I think...I think the main reason they were so worried...” She finished, so quietly the words were barely vocal at all. “Was that they...never.....found the gun.” As hard as it had been for Noah to admit his own secret, it was even worse watching the House force Rue to reveal hers. The fear radiating from her was practically tangible, and he had to stop himself from holding her in the way he used to hold his sister so many years ago. All he could do was listen as the words burst from Rue's lips, watch as she trembled and tried to force the words out, as she faltered and picked up... he had told his secret not just because the House had forced him to, but because he felt like he owed Rue the knowledge. What the House was doing here... it just felt cruel. He didn't want to listen because it was so clear that Rue didn't want to be saying it, but he knew he owed it to her as a friend to listen and reassure her that whatever it was, he would stick by her side. Just as she had done for him, right? It was hard to listen, he wasn't going to lie. Noah had never been the victim of bullies. He was the weird kid with the skateboard and the easy smile who nobody ever really noticed because he was in his best friend's shadow. And he had an influential and intimidating best friend. He had never gone through beatings or been caught stealing for food, because everything in his life had been given to him as a result of his father's money. This was not a story he ever would have heard at Aglionby or even in Henrietta. This was a world that made his blood boil hearing Rue talk about it. Peacekeepers, if that was what they were called, weren't supposed to beat up kids for stealing to survive. What the Aglionby boys did was one thing - hotwiring brand new cars to race and destroy in the same day because they knew they didn't want to wreck any of the five cars their parents bought them. Those were kids who got off scot free because their parents could pay off the local officials. Rue's life... the cruelty inflicted on her because she didn't want her family to starve... that was quite another. The little girl in front of him had killed someone. Noah watched her, listening to every word, something in his eyes registering as grief, perhaps? Or something deeper and more unreadable. It was hard to tell. Physically, it was easy to take a life. Noah knew how fragile his own was as it abandoned him bit by bit. He had registered the horror on Whelk's face, but there had been no remorse there. What Noah had experienced was murder. What Rue was describing... well, that was something entirely different. Did she blame herself for the others being beaten? Noah couldn't tell. He couldn't tell her that it wasn't her fault, because that wasn't objectively true, but he also knew that she hadn't had a choice. He reached forward and grasped Rue's hand, squeezing it tightly as though to tell her it was okay. As though to put forth every thought he couldn't quite word properly, to tell her nothing she said changed anything, to tell her that what she did was the right thing. He had stopped paying attention to the door. It didn't matter right then if they got out, just that Rue knew it was okay. She didn't have to bear it alone anymore. Rue startled as his skin touched her, her muscles stiffening instinctively, ready to pull away and run. The pressure felt like words she’d never for a moment expected to hear. Why wasn’t he backing away from her like the monster she was? What kind of twelve-year-old girl could kill someone, and when her mind forced her to relive it in the form of nightmares when she slept and memories when she couldn’t, she came again and again to the sick conclusion that she would do it all over again? She finally forced her dark eyes up to look in his. They widened as she registered it: not horror, or anger, or disgust. The only way she could think to describe it was grief. Grief at the loss of a life. Grief that she’d been the one to take it. Grief - if that was possible - at what he somehow knew she’d been forced to endure in the years afterward. Something that felt like warm rain fell on her cheek and she reached up to brush it away, and suddenly she realized she was crying. When had she last cried? It felt like years ago, a different person who was both stronger than her and far more vulnerable, who could still be shocked by cruelty enough to be able to create tears and let them fall. “I would do it again.” She blurted out, searching his eyes wildly for even a flicker of the disgust she couldn’t imagine he didn’t now feel at the sight of her. “It’s sick, and wrong, and every time I think about it I know that I would do it. Why don’t you hate me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold onto his, but she tightened her grip and clutched his hand as though she was drowning and he was the last thing tying her to the surface. “How can you not hate someone like me?”
|
|
|
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 20, 2019 13:23:22 GMT -5
"Ah!" yelped Sam, for the third time in this room. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart jumpstart for what might be the first time in two days. His eyes were wide, but he shook it off. He hadn't expected Nico to just appear like that. But he shook it off. He also shook his head. "Don't seem to be getting any echoes though." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, dropping his eyes awkwardly. He wasn't thinking about Nico much - at least not about his sudden appearance. He was thinking about the whole getting out of the room thing. He didn't think he could come out from under the bridge. Come on House, he thought. Give me and easy way out. He paused the expanse of the shadow covering, looking over the walls. He pointed along the wall, dragging a finger across the air. "This is the midpoint," he said, looking back at Nico. "We both roughly traveled the same distance to get here. So here is probably a start at least, because the House had us hear each other so we could get back to this point, right?" It was a hypothesis at least. "So I have to disagree, at least for now. Do you see anywhere else which might have a better option?" He was curious if Nico did, regardless of whether he wanted him to or not. He didn't think his concern was showing - of the sun - but he didn't want to be faced with loosing the one person who was still treating him close to normal. "There might be something on these bracings," he said, tapping his knuckles against one. "Or in the water." He nodded at the water. Nico frowned, considering that Sam might be right, but the truth was that he saw no easy way out here. He wished he could just shrug and say that Sam was probably right, but there was the issue of there being no obvious next hint. At least they had known to find each other when they could just hear voices, but now there was nothing. At least when Nico was being strung along by a prophecy there was usually a hint as to what was supposed to happen next, even if it was cryptic and unhelpful. "We could try every brick on this bridge and see if it's a trapdoor, or we could go on top and try the same thing. Maybe we have to wade into the water and then we'll reappear in the living room, which I would really rather not try unless we're out of options. Or maybe the House just thinks we enjoy acting like trolls from old faerie tales and plans to make us just disappear as soon as there's nobody around." Nico knew his sarcastic outburst wasn't quite fair, but the truth was he was quite annoyed and he really just wanted to get out of here and then maybe blink back to his world and figure some things out there. He was beginning to realize that maybe the House took too much energy from him if he was going to be at full capacity when he blinked home. "You do bring up some good ideas, though," he admitted reluctantly. He wasn't going to admit that he was as afraid of water as he was of heights... that felt like giving up too much of himself. Samuel could hear the sarcasm and wasn't sure whether to be hurt by it or if he'd had it coming. Either way, he glanced away. At the ground, at the water, most places other than Nico. "Sorry," he muttered, but quietly. He still wasn't sure if he was hurt or apologetic. But he did sigh, almost tempted to roll his eyes, and said, "Lets just look around. Just with our eyes, no going in the water. And if that doesn't work ... well, then we can try whatever you want to do." It was his best shot for staying in the shadows and he just ... he just wanted to be selfish this one time. He turned away and headed in the opposite direction of the water. There was a thin incline up to where the bridge connected back up to the road and someone had - though Sam hadn't actually seen anyone here - graffitied on the underside of the bridge as soon as it had come into spray can range. Sam looked up, frowned, then looked back down again. Then he turned and looked back the way they had come, pointing upward. "That's always something. Unless there's another blinker around with a spray can." Then he walked back, glancing at everything as he went. The floor, the braces, the ceiling. Then he reached the water and looked into that too. "You're in luck. I don't see anything in there." There might be something on the other side, but Sam wasn't keen on swimming either. He turned back and headed for the patch of graffiti. "I can't read it though," he admitted. "Which might be nice. Usually this stuff is rude. But it's all ... funky symbols and things." He hoped this was enough to keep Nico from running off out of frustration or something. Sam tried not to feel guilty. He kept pushing the feeling away every time it came up.
|
|
|
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 20, 2019 13:36:02 GMT -5
Yet even if Noah didn't have the belief or hope, Myrnin did. He shook his head a bit and then promised, "Then I'll wish for a surprise for you!" He sounded very cheerful about it. As the game continued, Myrnin couldn't help chuckling a bit. He stopped as soon as he saw Noah's little eyebrow twitch and then completely froze in place as soon as Noah said freeze. This included holding his breath, because he wasn't taking any chances. He watched Noah and tried not to blink either. He wasn't sure how serious of freezing he'd have to do, but he took no chances. He also watched Noah, waiting to see if he could spot any shifts in what his posture. He was going to win this! He also really needed to blink. Noah couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. It was odd, how selfless this little boy seemed to be when so many of the people Noah dealt with on a daily basis were cruel and selfish and honestly willing to do anything to push forward their own agenda. Noah hated that, but there was none of that when he looked at the little boy. Yet he didn't have a chance to let his thoughts out because now they were frozen, and poor Myrnin looked like he was about to pass out from not breathing. Noah sucked in a very deliberate breath that he didn't need in the hopes that it would let Myrnin know that, even though they were supposed to be frozen, breathing didn't count. He didn't want the kid to pass out over a simple game. Unless Myrnin decided to call him out on breathing, and then Noah would accept it but would have to find a way to state later that breathing was, in fact, okay. Nonetheless, he didn't blink either. Wait, could they breath? Myrnin wanted to look suspiciously at Noah but knew he couldn't. But he really needed to take a breath, so he suppose he was just going to loose if so. Could he call Noah out on breathing afterward if he lost for breathing? Myrnin breathed. He felt a lot better and less like he was going to explode. Now his eyes were watering and he was seriously contemplating what he was going to do about it. How long had they been like this? (About ten seconds.) It must have been almost an hour. (No. About ten seconds. Maybe eleven.) Surely the game couldn't go on much longer. (It was still only ten seconds.) But he was going to win. He was! He really need to blink. And he had an itch on his nose. It was getting to be a bad itch. Had it been loooooooong enough?
|
|
Asexual
Lark
Hello, its just, me, and 1567396558397583479 larks
|
Post by Lark on Jun 20, 2019 16:28:38 GMT -5
Dipper's formerly still hands began to grip onto the couch roughed up fabric. One thing led to another for opening his stupid mouth, at times the thought of what Mabel would do barged in. What he lacked she thrived in to the point he couldn't help to feel envious. Above that bitter jab of jealousy was the crown jewel - she could just be herself whenever she wanted. "I'm only thinking what could happen." He sunk into the couch keeping his stance right were it was at. "Y-you could even save yourself before you know but, sure, maybe you still have a chance." A contemplative tone seeped into his pondering thoughts. It was foolish to spill his guts to someone he might as well never see again if the house, as usual, it made thinking with his head easier. With that considered he didn't look away when Will continued his defensive stance on the matter. Parts of him wanted to stand in the other's shoes leaving another layer of self loathing to surface. People wouldn't mind that he was gone - another missing kid whose name would be forgotten. On the other hand those close to him would be drawn in of course for awhile before they gave up. Just like how everyone else gave up on the author. For the remainder that his acquaintance spoke the boy could only think of more questions, one after the other. He crossed his legs, sometimes he couldn't help it, another habit of his when in deep thought. "Why do I feel like you're onto something?" His tone edged in concern and wonder, visibly fidgeting in his seat. "I mean thanks - for caring."
|
|
|
Post by ~∂єѕтιиу on Jun 20, 2019 16:36:28 GMT -5
(Psst »ƑαƖcση I want to get spidey-lad in here somehow,, and I don’t know who to bug to get something rolling yknow ^^’ no sweat if you’re busy or anything — I just need to thrust myself in somehow, and I ought to pick on you bc who else would I pick on when idk what to do))
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 20, 2019 17:13:21 GMT -5
Nico noticed, gratefully, the extra distance that Kelsier was putting between them. It was a nice buffer, though it added to the confusion of what he was supposed to think of Kelsier. He knew that everyone had good and bad in them, but there was that and there was drastically shifting personality after killing someone when that someone comes back to life. Nico still had no idea what to make of the man, and for someone who usually cast character judgments pretty quickly, it was a weird in-between space to inhabit. Interesting, to say the least. He frowned when he came to the end of the platform and found nothing but a wall. He looked up, and sure enough, one surface was different than the other. "Stay here," Nico instructed Kelsier, though he highly doubted the Mistborn was going to listen. He frowned as he ran back towards the button, realizing just how exhausted he felt. The panic took as much out of him, it seemed, than his usual response to the overwhelming emotions. He had a tendency to push them away in the form of chill and death seeping out from under his feet, spreading maliciously and without mercy. He had a tendency to let the panic leave him in the form of his powers, but this time there had been nowhere for them to go. He had felt the panic before, but there was always a way to get rid of it more quickly, though it often meant losing control of his powers. He understood, now, why this time had been so different. He glanced back at Kelsier once he was once again near the purple button, and he pressed down on it with his foot, placing his whole weight upon it. To his delight, he saw the platform come down to where he had been standing. He stepped off, but it rose back up. Cursing under his breath, Nico stood back on it, waiting for Kelsier to get on the platform. Against his better judgment, perhaps, Kelsier did as Nico said and stayed where he was, his eyes on the spot the surfaces changed. He wasn’t surprised to see the platform abruptly start to move, and he smiled over at Nico before trying to step on, only to have it move away at the last minute. “Very funny.” He muttered, his first thought that the boy had done it one purpose. His second thought was what sense of humor had he detected that made him think that, exactly? Oh well. The platform returned, and this time it let him climb all the way on and stand up. He glanced back at Nico, and an idea occurred to him. “I can use a coin to Push the button down for you.” He called. “I think. Or I can save my strength and see if there’s another button at the top. Your call.”
|
|
|
Post by broken on Jun 20, 2019 18:52:08 GMT -5
(Hey guys! What's been going on?)
|
|
|
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 20, 2019 22:07:49 GMT -5
(We reopened and some new people are around, broken. ^^ )
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 21, 2019 11:07:52 GMT -5
As hard as it had been for Noah to admit his own secret, it was even worse watching the House force Rue to reveal hers. The fear radiating from her was practically tangible, and he had to stop himself from holding her in the way he used to hold his sister so many years ago. All he could do was listen as the words burst from Rue's lips, watch as she trembled and tried to force the words out, as she faltered and picked up... he had told his secret not just because the House had forced him to, but because he felt like he owed Rue the knowledge. What the House was doing here... it just felt cruel. He didn't want to listen because it was so clear that Rue didn't want to be saying it, but he knew he owed it to her as a friend to listen and reassure her that whatever it was, he would stick by her side. Just as she had done for him, right? It was hard to listen, he wasn't going to lie. Noah had never been the victim of bullies. He was the weird kid with the skateboard and the easy smile who nobody ever really noticed because he was in his best friend's shadow. And he had an influential and intimidating best friend. He had never gone through beatings or been caught stealing for food, because everything in his life had been given to him as a result of his father's money. This was not a story he ever would have heard at Aglionby or even in Henrietta. This was a world that made his blood boil hearing Rue talk about it. Peacekeepers, if that was what they were called, weren't supposed to beat up kids for stealing to survive. What the Aglionby boys did was one thing - hotwiring brand new cars to race and destroy in the same day because they knew they didn't want to wreck any of the five cars their parents bought them. Those were kids who got off scot free because their parents could pay off the local officials. Rue's life... the cruelty inflicted on her because she didn't want her family to starve... that was quite another. The little girl in front of him had killed someone. Noah watched her, listening to every word, something in his eyes registering as grief, perhaps? Or something deeper and more unreadable. It was hard to tell. Physically, it was easy to take a life. Noah knew how fragile his own was as it abandoned him bit by bit. He had registered the horror on Whelk's face, but there had been no remorse there. What Noah had experienced was murder. What Rue was describing... well, that was something entirely different. Did she blame herself for the others being beaten? Noah couldn't tell. He couldn't tell her that it wasn't her fault, because that wasn't objectively true, but he also knew that she hadn't had a choice. He reached forward and grasped Rue's hand, squeezing it tightly as though to tell her it was okay. As though to put forth every thought he couldn't quite word properly, to tell her nothing she said changed anything, to tell her that what she did was the right thing. He had stopped paying attention to the door. It didn't matter right then if they got out, just that Rue knew it was okay. She didn't have to bear it alone anymore. Rue startled as his skin touched her, her muscles stiffening instinctively, ready to pull away and run. The pressure felt like words she’d never for a moment expected to hear. Why wasn’t he backing away from her like the monster she was? What kind of twelve-year-old girl could kill someone, and when her mind forced her to relive it in the form of nightmares when she slept and memories when she couldn’t, she came again and again to the sick conclusion that she would do it all over again? She finally forced her dark eyes up to look in his. They widened as she registered it: not horror, or anger, or disgust. The only way she could think to describe it was grief. Grief at the loss of a life. Grief that she’d been the one to take it. Grief - if that was possible - at what he somehow knew she’d been forced to endure in the years afterward. Something that felt like warm rain fell on her cheek and she reached up to brush it away, and suddenly she realized she was crying. When had she last cried? It felt like years ago, a different person who was both stronger than her and far more vulnerable, who could still be shocked by cruelty enough to be able to create tears and let them fall. “I would do it again.” She blurted out, searching his eyes wildly for even a flicker of the disgust she couldn’t imagine he didn’t now feel at the sight of her. “It’s sick, and wrong, and every time I think about it I know that I would do it. Why don’t you hate me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold onto his, but she tightened her grip and clutched his hand as though she was drowning and he was the last thing tying her to the surface. “How can you not hate someone like me?” It was odd, Noah thought, seeing Rue cry. Although he hadn't known her for very long, she seemed the type who wasn't a fan of crying. He understood that, but he also knew he wanted to be there for her now, when she couldn't hold back tears. Or perhaps when they came more easily than she was used to. He wasn't entirely sure on that account. He kept his hand where it was, applying light pressure on Rue's to let her know that he wasn't going to leave. Not right now, not while she needed someone. He wondered how she'd kept the secret to herself for so long. It must have been a horrible burden to bear. Then Rue started speaking again, and it took everything in Noah not to immediately pull her into a hug, because he knew, somehow, that words were more important than anything else right now. She needed to hear his answer, although he knew it would be difficult to find the right words. He had never been good at that, but he figured he owed it to Rue to try. "Of course you would," he whispered, meeting her dark gaze without a trace of disgust or fear or anything similar. "You didn't have a choice, Rue. I don't know about your world, but where I'm from, if you kill someone in self defense you don't have to receive any punishment. And I know... I know that's only legally, but I can't think of a single person that I know that would say you did anything wrong. I don't... I don't think you did anything wrong." He frowned, not knowing if what he was saying would get through at all. He hoped it did. "Look, Rue... I was killed out of desperation. But it was different. Nobody's life was on the line if I didn't die. I wasn't attacking Whelk or threatening his family. There's a difference between what happened to me and what you did, I promise. And you did nothing wrong." His voice was quiet as he explained.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 21, 2019 11:42:31 GMT -5
Nico noticed, gratefully, the extra distance that Kelsier was putting between them. It was a nice buffer, though it added to the confusion of what he was supposed to think of Kelsier. He knew that everyone had good and bad in them, but there was that and there was drastically shifting personality after killing someone when that someone comes back to life. Nico still had no idea what to make of the man, and for someone who usually cast character judgments pretty quickly, it was a weird in-between space to inhabit. Interesting, to say the least. He frowned when he came to the end of the platform and found nothing but a wall. He looked up, and sure enough, one surface was different than the other. "Stay here," Nico instructed Kelsier, though he highly doubted the Mistborn was going to listen. He frowned as he ran back towards the button, realizing just how exhausted he felt. The panic took as much out of him, it seemed, than his usual response to the overwhelming emotions. He had a tendency to push them away in the form of chill and death seeping out from under his feet, spreading maliciously and without mercy. He had a tendency to let the panic leave him in the form of his powers, but this time there had been nowhere for them to go. He had felt the panic before, but there was always a way to get rid of it more quickly, though it often meant losing control of his powers. He understood, now, why this time had been so different. He glanced back at Kelsier once he was once again near the purple button, and he pressed down on it with his foot, placing his whole weight upon it. To his delight, he saw the platform come down to where he had been standing. He stepped off, but it rose back up. Cursing under his breath, Nico stood back on it, waiting for Kelsier to get on the platform. Against his better judgment, perhaps, Kelsier did as Nico said and stayed where he was, his eyes on the spot the surfaces changed. He wasn’t surprised to see the platform abruptly start to move, and he smiled over at Nico before trying to step on, only to have it move away at the last minute. “Very funny.” He muttered, his first thought that the boy had done it one purpose. His second thought was what sense of humor had he detected that made him think that, exactly? Oh well. The platform returned, and this time it let him climb all the way on and stand up. He glanced back at Nico, and an idea occurred to him. “I can use a coin to Push the button down for you.” He called. “I think. Or I can save my strength and see if there’s another button at the top. Your call.” Nico hadn't entirely meant it as a joke - partially just a way of seeing if it would stay down or if he needed to keep standing on the button, but he had to admit that Kelsier's reaction had been at least a little bit funny. So maybe he had timed it so it wasn't entirely to check if the platform would rise up. The idea that Kelsier presented was a tempting one, sure, but who knew how much more of this room there was, or if Kelsier would need his powers again for something else. When he'd had his powers, Nico had been able to sense at least one more platform above their heads, but as best he could remember that had been two levels below. He was entirely disoriented now. "See if there's another at the top," he decided, not knowing if they'd be able to communicate between levels, but hoping they would be. It was odd, to him. He'd barely lost the use of his powers for the better part of an hour, yet already mortality was beginning to feel normal. It was like there was something empty in him now, but something that had been there for a long time. He wondered if this... comfortableness... of not having his powers would mean it would be more difficult to get them back. He pushed the thought away.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 21, 2019 12:03:32 GMT -5
Dipper's formerly still hands began to grip onto the couch roughed up fabric. One thing led to another for opening his stupid mouth, at times the thought of what Mabel would do barged in. What he lacked she thrived in to the point he couldn't help to feel envious. Above that bitter jab of jealousy was the crown jewel - she could just be herself whenever she wanted. "I'm only thinking what could happen." He sunk into the couch keeping his stance right were it was at. "Y-you could even save yourself before you know but, sure, maybe you still have a chance." A contemplative tone seeped into his pondering thoughts. It was foolish to spill his guts to someone he might as well never see again if the house, as usual, it made thinking with his head easier. With that considered he didn't look away when Will continued his defensive stance on the matter. Parts of him wanted to stand in the other's shoes leaving another layer of self loathing to surface. People wouldn't mind that he was gone - another missing kid whose name would be forgotten. On the other hand those close to him would be drawn in of course for awhile before they gave up. Just like how everyone else gave up on the author. For the remainder that his acquaintance spoke the boy could only think of more questions, one after the other. He crossed his legs, sometimes he couldn't help it, another habit of his when in deep thought. "Why do I feel like you're onto something?" His tone edged in concern and wonder, visibly fidgeting in his seat. "I mean thanks - for caring." Will frowned, something akin to anger - but perhaps softer - flashing across his expression. He couldn't quite meet Dipper's eye as he began speaking again. "Maybe you can handle terrifying things in your life without help from adults, and that's great, but... I don't know where I am when I blink back. There's a giant monster who probably wants to eat me alive or harvest my soul or something, and there's not many places I can hide. I don't even know if anyone's noticed I'm gone yet, and the stupid telephone isn't working, and I've searched but there are no obvious doors back to my dimension. I'm stuck, Dipper. I shot at the thing and the bullets did nothing, and I'm fresh out of weapons. I don't want my mom to get hurt, and I don't want my brother sucked into this, but if I can't rely on them finding me, then I have nothing. I've got no way to keep going," he admitted, voice cracking. He hadn't meant to say all of that out loud, and the emotion had risen as he'd continued talking, but he had said what he needed to. "If I don't believe they're going to find me, I've got no way to keep fighting," he repeated, shaking his head. He shifted, obviously wishing to change the topic. "You uh... you said earlier you have to keep hiding? What do you mean? You don't... you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but..." he shrugged, trying to grasp onto anything that could be a shift in the conversation.
|
|
|
Post by broken on Jun 21, 2019 13:36:40 GMT -5
(Oh nice. Well I might jump in in a bit. I'm just going to read through some stuff)
|
|
|
Post by HᥲꙆƒꙆɩɠᖾt on Jun 21, 2019 20:36:25 GMT -5
The neon ornaments lining the walls flickered a bit more, a few of them going out again and re-covering most of the room in darkness. "Is that more to your liking?" Sandalphon asked, trying to compromise. "I don't know about you, but I can't see in the dark, and I'd prefer it be light enough in here to avoid a repeat of my earlier performance." He was referring to falling into the pool. The floor was full of junk one could easily trip on if they couldn't see, and the Primarch was unsure if he could stomach another moment like that in one day. The action of meeting back up with the others wasn't something the archangel was in a particular rush to do, since he had been enjoying the pleasant, quiet atmosphere this room provided. Regardless, he retrieved Lucifer's coffee cup and slid off his bar stool, leaving the house provided one behind. "If you wish. We can decide on our next course of action afterwards." He replied as he gave Elliot a curt nod, before turning away to head back through the door he'd entered through. The 'mancave' fell black once again as it's energy source left and fully ceased channeling his magic into the room now that he was out, figuring Elliot would be fine in the dark if he enjoyed it so much. Quietly stepping out into the hall, Sandalphon's gaze fell on one of the other doorways about halfway down, seeing it was still lit by the house's own power. Since he had to pass by it on the way out anyway, he figured he'd take a quick look inside. He didn't bother lighting up the hall as he made his way towards it, the distance between the two rooms short enough to where he could maneuver just fine without. It was a moderatly sized living room... Or at least that was what the large couch pushed against one corner suggested this room was anyway... The rest of it's contents however, made this one unlike any the archangel had seen before. Most of the light was coming from more screens, about four of them to be exact. Two were on the walls, like the one from the bar, although these were half as big. The other two were sat side by side on a desk in the corner opposite of the couch. Various bits of unfamiliar technology were dotted around, some connected to the screens and looking ready for use. What... was all this? Sandalphon had originally only planned on simply peeking in and passing the room by, but his curiosity ended up getting the better of him, drawing the primal inside. The first item to grab his focus was a grey object sitting near the two smaller screens. Picking it up, a closer look revealed it was eyewear, although what purpose it served was unknown as its view was blocked on one side. --- Meanwhile outside, in the far distance the once clear, starry night sky had started to turn black. Storm clouds rumbling with the sound of thunder filled the horizon, lightning dancing through them in a spectacle of lights. The wind in the area grew stronger by the second, until it was tearing at the earth beneath the clouds with enough force to rip any plant life unfortunately caught within to shreds. The show might have been considered beautiful to any onlookers, had it not set it's sights on the house of glass a few miles away. (Might as well have them mess around a bit more before the room ends pfft. This is the best pic I could find of a 'gaming room' so I just rolled with it.)
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 21, 2019 23:13:37 GMT -5
Rue startled as his skin touched her, her muscles stiffening instinctively, ready to pull away and run. The pressure felt like words she’d never for a moment expected to hear. Why wasn’t he backing away from her like the monster she was? What kind of twelve-year-old girl could kill someone, and when her mind forced her to relive it in the form of nightmares when she slept and memories when she couldn’t, she came again and again to the sick conclusion that she would do it all over again? She finally forced her dark eyes up to look in his. They widened as she registered it: not horror, or anger, or disgust. The only way she could think to describe it was grief. Grief at the loss of a life. Grief that she’d been the one to take it. Grief - if that was possible - at what he somehow knew she’d been forced to endure in the years afterward. Something that felt like warm rain fell on her cheek and she reached up to brush it away, and suddenly she realized she was crying. When had she last cried? It felt like years ago, a different person who was both stronger than her and far more vulnerable, who could still be shocked by cruelty enough to be able to create tears and let them fall. “I would do it again.” She blurted out, searching his eyes wildly for even a flicker of the disgust she couldn’t imagine he didn’t now feel at the sight of her. “It’s sick, and wrong, and every time I think about it I know that I would do it. Why don’t you hate me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold onto his, but she tightened her grip and clutched his hand as though she was drowning and he was the last thing tying her to the surface. “How can you not hate someone like me?” It was odd, Noah thought, seeing Rue cry. Although he hadn't known her for very long, she seemed the type who wasn't a fan of crying. He understood that, but he also knew he wanted to be there for her now, when she couldn't hold back tears. Or perhaps when they came more easily than she was used to. He wasn't entirely sure on that account. He kept his hand where it was, applying light pressure on Rue's to let her know that he wasn't going to leave. Not right now, not while she needed someone. He wondered how she'd kept the secret to herself for so long. It must have been a horrible burden to bear. Then Rue started speaking again, and it took everything in Noah not to immediately pull her into a hug, because he knew, somehow, that words were more important than anything else right now. She needed to hear his answer, although he knew it would be difficult to find the right words. He had never been good at that, but he figured he owed it to Rue to try. "Of course you would," he whispered, meeting her dark gaze without a trace of disgust or fear or anything similar. "You didn't have a choice, Rue. I don't know about your world, but where I'm from, if you kill someone in self defense you don't have to receive any punishment. And I know... I know that's only legally, but I can't think of a single person that I know that would say you did anything wrong. I don't... I don't think you did anything wrong." He frowned, not knowing if what he was saying would get through at all. He hoped it did. "Look, Rue... I was killed out of desperation. But it was different. Nobody's life was on the line if I didn't die. I wasn't attacking Whelk or threatening his family. There's a difference between what happened to me and what you did, I promise. And you did nothing wrong." His voice was quiet as he explained. Rue searched, and searched and searched for the shock and horror he had to feel now that he knew her secret. Not that someone finally knew what she was. Her heart beat faster as she finally realized he wasn’t faking it. There was no trace of anything hidden behind his kind eyes as he met hers, unflinching from her touch. If he’d thought she would cringe at the thought of touching a dead thing, she’d been just as sure he’d be equally repulsed by a thing that had stolen the life from someone else. Tears blurred her vision and escaped when she blinked, but she was no longer thinking about them. She listened as he explained in his soft, gentle way what she’d done, without the fear and pain and blame she’d tangled it in. He laid it out in front of her, and then he told her how she was different from the man she’d killed, and she believed him. Because he wouldn’t lie to her. Maybe because she didn’t think he could lie to her if he tried. Or maybe because she could tell that he wasn’t just trying to console her and pretend it was all okay, that her head wasn’t a storm and her tears weren’t falling like rain now. He meant it. For the first time in three years, Rue didn’t cry, she sobbed. Her whole body trembled with the emotions that contradicted each other every second, ones she hadn’t even known she had denied the right to be. Her hand held his so tightly she might have cut off blood circulation from a living person, but she couldn’t let go when he was the both the only person who knew and the only person who could tell her it was okay. She was okay.
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 21, 2019 23:24:51 GMT -5
Against his better judgment, perhaps, Kelsier did as Nico said and stayed where he was, his eyes on the spot the surfaces changed. He wasn’t surprised to see the platform abruptly start to move, and he smiled over at Nico before trying to step on, only to have it move away at the last minute. “Very funny.” He muttered, his first thought that the boy had done it one purpose. His second thought was what sense of humor had he detected that made him think that, exactly? Oh well. The platform returned, and this time it let him climb all the way on and stand up. He glanced back at Nico, and an idea occurred to him. “I can use a coin to Push the button down for you.” He called. “I think. Or I can save my strength and see if there’s another button at the top. Your call.” Nico hadn't entirely meant it as a joke - partially just a way of seeing if it would stay down or if he needed to keep standing on the button, but he had to admit that Kelsier's reaction had been at least a little bit funny. So maybe he had timed it so it wasn't entirely to check if the platform would rise up. The idea that Kelsier presented was a tempting one, sure, but who knew how much more of this room there was, or if Kelsier would need his powers again for something else. When he'd had his powers, Nico had been able to sense at least one more platform above their heads, but as best he could remember that had been two levels below. He was entirely disoriented now. "See if there's another at the top," he decided, not knowing if they'd be able to communicate between levels, but hoping they would be. It was odd, to him. He'd barely lost the use of his powers for the better part of an hour, yet already mortality was beginning to feel normal. It was like there was something empty in him now, but something that had been there for a long time. He wondered if this... comfortableness... of not having his powers would mean it would be more difficult to get them back. He pushed the thought away. Kelsier nodded, understanding the logic behind the decision even if he hated not being able to rely on the strength of his Allomancy. Nico’s comfort at the idea was completely foreign to him; Mistborn was his identity as much as it was a thing he possessed. Maybe more, sometimes. He turned away as Nico went down and he joined the next level, his eyes immediately scanning for danger, then another button once he was decently sure he wasn’t about to be ambushed. The glow caught his attention from a short distance away and he ran over to it, then stepped down, not giving himself time to worry this one wasn’t safe. He turned. Sure enough, the platform sank obediently back down and out of sight, where he hoped Nico was still waiting.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jun 22, 2019 0:06:24 GMT -5
Nico frowned, considering that Sam might be right, but the truth was that he saw no easy way out here. He wished he could just shrug and say that Sam was probably right, but there was the issue of there being no obvious next hint. At least they had known to find each other when they could just hear voices, but now there was nothing. At least when Nico was being strung along by a prophecy there was usually a hint as to what was supposed to happen next, even if it was cryptic and unhelpful. "We could try every brick on this bridge and see if it's a trapdoor, or we could go on top and try the same thing. Maybe we have to wade into the water and then we'll reappear in the living room, which I would really rather not try unless we're out of options. Or maybe the House just thinks we enjoy acting like trolls from old faerie tales and plans to make us just disappear as soon as there's nobody around." Nico knew his sarcastic outburst wasn't quite fair, but the truth was he was quite annoyed and he really just wanted to get out of here and then maybe blink back to his world and figure some things out there. He was beginning to realize that maybe the House took too much energy from him if he was going to be at full capacity when he blinked home. "You do bring up some good ideas, though," he admitted reluctantly. He wasn't going to admit that he was as afraid of water as he was of heights... that felt like giving up too much of himself. Samuel could hear the sarcasm and wasn't sure whether to be hurt by it or if he'd had it coming. Either way, he glanced away. At the ground, at the water, most places other than Nico. "Sorry," he muttered, but quietly. He still wasn't sure if he was hurt or apologetic. But he did sigh, almost tempted to roll his eyes, and said, "Lets just look around. Just with our eyes, no going in the water. And if that doesn't work ... well, then we can try whatever you want to do." It was his best shot for staying in the shadows and he just ... he just wanted to be selfish this one time. He turned away and headed in the opposite direction of the water. There was a thin incline up to where the bridge connected back up to the road and someone had - though Sam hadn't actually seen anyone here - graffitied on the underside of the bridge as soon as it had come into spray can range. Sam looked up, frowned, then looked back down again. Then he turned and looked back the way they had come, pointing upward. "That's always something. Unless there's another blinker around with a spray can." Then he walked back, glancing at everything as he went. The floor, the braces, the ceiling. Then he reached the water and looked into that too. "You're in luck. I don't see anything in there." There might be something on the other side, but Sam wasn't keen on swimming either. He turned back and headed for the patch of graffiti. "I can't read it though," he admitted. "Which might be nice. Usually this stuff is rude. But it's all ... funky symbols and things." He hoped this was enough to keep Nico from running off out of frustration or something. Sam tried not to feel guilty. He kept pushing the feeling away every time it came up. Nico shook his head. He knew his outburst had been unfair, but he was rather out of practice with apologizing, and wasn't the biggest fan of doing it anyway. Nonetheless he shook his had and glanced at Sam, the words dancing on the tip of his tongue. He watched as Sam poked around a bit before he finally forced it out. "Sorry," he managed, catching Sam's gaze. "I appreciate you trying to get us out, I really do. I'm just sick of the House giving us tedious tasks that are almost impossible to fulfill, and that's not your fault. I just wish we had been given more clues. And less heights and less water," he added, gazing at the river warily. Even if he hadn't recently had some traumatizing experiences concerning rivers - the Lethe and the Phlegethon alone were probably enough to ensure he never enjoyed being near a river again - but the truth was Poseidon still had it out for him, and he wasn't particularly keen on risking getting near any body of water. It didn't matter what his more recent actions had been, the god of the sea hadn't forgiven him for betraying Percy when he'd been too deep in to think about anyone's life but his own. Not that he blamed the sea god. He still hated himself for it too. He was grateful for the distraction of the graffiti. However, he wasn't any more successful than Sam. "Dyslexia is hard enough by itself," he grumbled, "I don't get why this has to be illegible even to someone who can read easily." He turned to look at Sam, forcing himself to take one deep breath in, then out. "I'll go look at the top of the bridge to see if there's anything out there that could give us a better clue." He needed a breath of air alone, honestly. He knew his frustration was probably wearing at Sam, and he didn't want that.
|
|