Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 22, 2019 0:11:23 GMT -5
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? Noah didn't call Myrnin out for the colossal breath he took, though it was funny how seriously Myrnin was taking this. It didn't seem fair to just let Myrnin win, so he would do the best he could to refrain from giggling at how adorably serious Myrnin looked in his serious pose. The issue was that serious just wasn't a look that suited anyone so young, no matter who they were. Obviously, Myrnin was doing his best not to blink, and Noah had to admit it was a valiant effort. He hadn't blinked himself yet, but he knew he probably would soon. Or not. His hidden skills included not blinking for what seemed like ridiculous amounts of time just to freak people out. Nowadays he didn't even need that to freak people out, but he didn't want to dwell on that particular thought. Noah made up his mind. If Myrnin held out for another fifteen seconds, Noah would purposefully move to let him win. He wouldn't be obvious about it, but he would still do it.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 22, 2019 0:18:14 GMT -5
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. Nico let out a breath of relief as the platform descended once again and he clambered on to it with a running start. "I'm on!" He called, taking a deep breath as it ascended once more, leaving the two on the same level once again. He cast a grim smile at Kelsier, walking past him because Kelsier had taken the most recent risk. There had been no guarantee that the button would be safe. Nico frowned once he got far enough along. "There are doors," he mused, looking at them. They were similar to the ones that had let the two out of the cramped room that had caused the entire issue between them in the first place. Nico couldn't help but wonder if there wouldn't be as much tension between the two of them had they not blinked into that tiny space. He certainly wouldn't have been quite as on edge. "They match the colors we have pinned to us," he observed, hanging back a few steps. If this door was just going to lead them to another room like this, the truth was that Nico would have rather stayed where he was.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 22, 2019 0:28:33 GMT -5
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. Noah wasn't great at lying. Secrets he could do. Any kind of secret, even the ones that he had kept from himself. Those still remained locked up in him somewhere, and they would likely never see the light of day. Lies, on the other hand, were things that Noah would rather not touch. So anything he said to Rue, or anything he said to most other people, really, was the truth, even if it wasn't necessarily all of it. The difference here, though, was that he had told Rue all of the truth. All of it, as he saw it, at least. And it seemed to have done what he hoped it would. He hadn't expected the sobs, of course, but he knew they were different from the tears she had begun shedding just seconds before. He knew they were different from the fear that had been in her voice as she had told her story... her secret. Without thinking twice about it, Noah maneuvered his arms so that they wrapped lightly around Rue's shoulders, his hand still tightly clasped to hers, because he had a feeling they both might be torn apart by the flood around them if he dared let go. He didn't wish to be pulled under by his secret or Rue's. It was all they could do to stay afloat. So he held her, not caring about whether her tears stained his faded Aglionby sweater or whether the room had decided to let them out. And he began humming. It was soft and barely audible, but the notes were there, quiet and raspy and not entirely on pitch. It was something his mother used to hum to him when he was upset, and it was what he had offered to his sister in the two years he had tried to comfort her when she was grieving him... the two years she hadn't even seen him there. He wasn't even sure the song was in English, but it had calmed him for as long as he could remember. He hoped it would help to anchor Rue as well.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 22, 2019 13:08:35 GMT -5
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. Nico let out a breath of relief as the platform descended once again and he clambered on to it with a running start. "I'm on!" He called, taking a deep breath as it ascended once more, leaving the two on the same level once again. He cast a grim smile at Kelsier, walking past him because Kelsier had taken the most recent risk. There had been no guarantee that the button would be safe. Nico frowned once he got far enough along. "There are doors," he mused, looking at them. They were similar to the ones that had let the two out of the cramped room that had caused the entire issue between them in the first place. Nico couldn't help but wonder if there wouldn't be as much tension between the two of them had they not blinked into that tiny space. He certainly wouldn't have been quite as on edge. "They match the colors we have pinned to us," he observed, hanging back a few steps. If this door was just going to lead them to another room like this, the truth was that Nico would have rather stayed where he was. Kelsier returned the smile, although his was a lighter shade. Perhaps he was just more used to how the expression felt on his features. He knew Nico had every intention of taking whatever the next risk was, despite how foolish it was, when they didn’t know what would happen when he died and again and they knew the Mistborn would be fine. He also knew how mad the demigod would be when Kelsier didn’t give him the opportunity. He also knew that he’d rather have an angry Prince of the Underworld than a dead one. There was no need to wait for it present itself. The doors weren’t far, and they sat right next to each other, innocent and silent and only slightly menacing. “Well, that’s helpful, at least.” He pointed out, and walked confidently forward until he stood right in front of first Nico’s door, which stayed resolutely closed, then his own, which opened immediately to reveal.... Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, he amended. As black as a night on his world, where few had the ability to pierce the mist and see the bright stars. So black there might have been something an inch from his nose, and he wouldn’t know it. He glanced back at Nico, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. “I can’t see anything. Be pretty risky to just go through, eh?” He grinned and saluted. “See you on the other side, Nico.” Land then he turned and leapt in, his cloak billowing majestically out behind him in the instant before he vanished back to his own world.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 22, 2019 14:03:04 GMT -5
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. Noah wasn't great at lying. Secrets he could do. Any kind of secret, even the ones that he had kept from himself. Those still remained locked up in him somewhere, and they would likely never see the light of day. Lies, on the other hand, were things that Noah would rather not touch. So anything he said to Rue, or anything he said to most other people, really, was the truth, even if it wasn't necessarily all of it. The difference here, though, was that he had told Rue all of the truth. All of it, as he saw it, at least. And it seemed to have done what he hoped it would. He hadn't expected the sobs, of course, but he knew they were different from the tears she had begun shedding just seconds before. He knew they were different from the fear that had been in her voice as she had told her story... her secret. Without thinking twice about it, Noah maneuvered his arms so that they wrapped lightly around Rue's shoulders, his hand still tightly clasped to hers, because he had a feeling they both might be torn apart by the flood around them if he dared let go. He didn't wish to be pulled under by his secret or Rue's. It was all they could do to stay afloat. So he held her, not caring about whether her tears stained his faded Aglionby sweater or whether the room had decided to let them out. And he began humming. It was soft and barely audible, but the notes were there, quiet and raspy and not entirely on pitch. It was something his mother used to hum to him when he was upset, and it was what he had offered to his sister in the two years he had tried to comfort her when she was grieving him... the two years she hadn't even seen him there. He wasn't even sure the song was in English, but it had calmed him for as long as he could remember. He hoped it would help to anchor Rue as well. Rue felt exhaustion spread through her bones as the sobs wracked her body, the tears blending until they were closer to a stream then rain. The music calmed her in a way nothing else could, reach in and seeming to pull her core into a soft embrace, reminiscent of the one Thresh used to give her when she was littler. Soft, but steady, and reliably real. Slowly the sobs faded to silent shakes, and her eyes closed, her breath evening out with only occasional hitches to hint at what she’d been through. She felt tired, in the sort of way you feel after you’ve been running on pure adrenaline and then suddenly, it’s gone. She didn’t try to stop her weight from shifting off her feet and into Noah’s arms, and then she sighed and fell asleep for the first time in days.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 22, 2019 18:44:27 GMT -5
A curse escaped Nico's lips as Kelsier went through his door without even waiting to see if it would be dangerous. Then again, Nico was fairly certain he deserved that for taking the risks he had taken without waiting. Still wasn't right to make Kelsier take two in a row, but he supposed he had no confirmation that this was safe, especially since Kelsier had seemed to just vanish. Without waiting to see if the man would reappear, he went in through his own door, facing the blackness and then appearing in his own world.
"We'll never make it." Nico's voice was hollow as he blinked back in, uncertainty flashing across his dark eyes. He had never been optimistic, but this was a new level of pessimism, even for him. He sucked in a deep breath once he noticed the House, sinking to the floor with the comfort that he was alone and at least right now there was nothing impossible that needed fighting. He let his head rest against the wall, keeping an eye out for any other blinkers. He messed with the temperature of the room for a few moments, making it colder and then warmer, if only to relish the fact that he had, in fact, gotten his powers back. Also perhaps to combat the growing numbness inside of him. How could they fight a war they had no chance of winning? They were too late. And even if they were to make it back to the states in time, the Romans still had it out for the Greeks and that was something that couldn't be fixed right away even if there wasn't a war brewing with the Earth herself. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. If he was being perfectly honest, he could have used a room right about then. It would provide a welcome distraction from what was going on in his world.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 9:22:34 GMT -5
Kelsier blinked in, not wearing his gray mistcloak for once. Instead he wore what looked like average street clothes, maybe without the usually amount of holes, but fairly nondescript nonetheless. He stopped mid-step and reached up to shield his eyes from the sudden light assaulting them, backing up a couple steps instinctively as though he’d found himself on the edge of a cliff. As his eyes adjusted he blinked and realized what had happened, and the painfully familiar face that was right I’m front of him sent memories surging through his brain. Ah yes. The boy he’d murdered in cold blood. That was just what he needed to be reminded of, in the middle of a heist he had second thoughts about anyway. “Nico.” He said by way of greeting, quirking a boyish grin and offering a half bow to cover up how unsettled he was. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been about a week since our little adventure for me.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 10:47:44 GMT -5
"About an hour and a half," Nico quipped, though there was no way of telling if he was serious or not. He had lost the sceptre since his last blink in, but his clothes were the same. Not that he ever wore anything but his aviator jacket and the black jeans that hadn't started out ripped, but honestly if ripped jeans were 'in' he wasn't going to bother going out and buying a new pair in the middle of a quest. "Nice to see you, Kelsier," he added, hand resting comfortably - and surprisingly unthreateningly - on the hilt of his sword. "I trust you got your powers back upon blinking into your world?" There was something dark in his eyes. Something that belied the relief of having his own powers again, and perhaps a hint of something darker within them than Kelsier had seen in the last room. Nico was certain he'd seen barely the minimum of Kelsier's powers... and the man had certainly just seen the tip of the iceberg when it came to Nico's. He had stopped messing with the temperature once he'd realized he wasn't alone, but that didn't mean he had stopped exuding some of the chill that usually followed him. It was a nervous habit, for sure.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 12:30:48 GMT -5
“Good as new, as I see yours are as well.” Kelsier replied. He’d noticed the chill, and he’d noticed it before too, in the short stretch of time he’d known Nico at full strength. Even then, he suspected he knew about as much about the Nico’s abilities as the boy did about his own: next to nothing. Which prompted the question he knew was on both their minds; if it came to another fight in fairer circumstances, who would win? Looking at him, Kelsier could doubted it had been that short of a time between blinks, but he didn’t call the demigod out on it. He looked....both calmer and even less calm, like the stress he was under was so much it had looped all the way back around again and feeling anything was a challenge, now. “Not that the last room we were in together was filled to the brim with entertainment.” He continued, waving a hand as though to dismiss unpleasant memories. “But the living room is going to get old pretty fast, and it’ll take more than one adventure to put me off exploring this place. Care to join me?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 13:27:51 GMT -5
Nico nodded, reigning in some of the cold he was exuding. He hadn't realized how much of it he had let loose. Perhaps it was just a side effect of sinking back into his powers. He was still oddly a little bit out of touch with them. He could feel Kelsier watching him, as though trying to read him, but he took pride in the fact that, for the most part, he was unreadable. He hoped that was still the case - from Kelsier's expression, it probably was. "Oh, I thought it was quite entertaining," Nico replied, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing to make you feel alive like being killed by a stranger." There was a little bit of hostility in the words, but the smirk that accompanied it belied a bit of humor in the situation as well. He apparently didn't hold it against Kelsier. "And nothing to make you a bit humbler than relying on that same stranger's aid," he allowed, his voice softening just a little bit. There was something in his expression that he had been careful to keep out of it since he had met Kelsier. The vestiges of gratitude, perhaps. "I've been here for four years," Nico replied, crossing his arms. "Nothing's dissuaded me from exploring yet." He raised his eyebrows in what appeared to be a look of defiance. "Delighted to," he added in response to the question before striding towards the hallway.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 13:44:22 GMT -5
Kelsier winced a little at the sharp reminder, but somehow, he couldn’t feel the expected heat of anger behind the words. It was true that he couldn’t exactly read Nico by his expression, but he thought he’d be able to tell if there was fury threatening to spill from inside of him, or the kind of ice around his heart that only came from anger that had burned itself cold. In fact, he realized with some surprise, the humor in the boy’s tone wasn’t fake. He actually could find something about the irony of their last room. He edited his previous thought that Nico didn’t have much of a sense of humor. He had one, albeit on the subtle side, if anyone was willing to watch for it. “Fair enough.” He replied, to both statements. “But, since we’re no longer complete strangers, let’s see if we can skip the part about one of us murdering the other in the next one, alright?” Four years. Kelsier had turned and headed for the hallway, and he found he missed the sense of power he got from his mistcloak. This was his first time without it, although he he ended up blinking in for half the time Nico had, he supposed it was bound to happen again and he should probably try to get used to it. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Nico was following, then stepped into the hall, the usual awe of the endless doors a little marred now by experience. Not all of them were fun. “Anyone ever try marking the ones we’ve been in?” He asked without turning, touching the very first door. It seemed so obvious he figured someone must have tried it, but you never knew with large, chaotic groups that never seemed to try and collaborate in the slightest.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 15:10:21 GMT -5
Nico nodded, making a sound of vague agreement. He would’ve liked the distraction that came with beating someone he could handle in a fight, but that wasn’t something he was going to suggest now. Honestly, though, he just needed a fight he could win. He knew he couldn’t win the one that awaited him when he blinked back into his world. He looked through the hallway at the hundreds of doors. There was always that little thrill of excitement he had first felt as a ten year old. He was impressed that feeling hasn’t changed, despite every horror he had experienced here. “We tried, once,” he replied with a rueful smile. “Didn’t stay. We’ve also tried going through the same doors by counting them, but there’s always a different room behind what seems to be the same door,” he admitted. He let his hand brush along the wall, relishing the mystery of the place. The House had honestly become more of a home to him than his world was, at times. He owed it a lot, even as he hated it for certain things it had done. “Care to choose a door?” He asked, gesturing to the hallway. In his several years at the House, Nico had chosen his fair share of doors. A lot of them had concealed terrible things. A lot of them had been surprisingly nice. And as annoyed as he got with a lot of the rooms he entered, he had to admit that they were almost always a welcome distraction. “Considering we weren’t given a choice last time?” He didn’t trust himself to choose a door. His luck had been rotten enough lately that he didn’t really want anything else that could be blamed on him.
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Post by <Raintalon> on Jun 23, 2019 16:17:49 GMT -5
Any other day it would have been one run around the block, nothing too hard. Now he paced his steps like his life depended on it mainly because it really did. Joey rushed across the field alongside his more experienced companion despite seeing his previous show of physical prowess. While lacking in that area he snickered behind his mask, thinking Matt's wits were one of the only aspects that kept him alive here. "Seriously? It can't be that bad!" He kept his bright eyes forward growing to trust in what the other boy had to say. Keeping that in mind he kept up treading across the ground lightly as he could. Confidence in the delinquents ability would prove to be fatal within a few more steps nearing the seemingly eternal chase. Worries of the monster faded away in his mind and more so to the wall they crossed over at the beginning of their adventure. It proved to be an issue in the past, for his heart started to beat faster than he could ever remember. "SH*T!" Matt saw the wall as Joey did, and pulled up, skidding on his heel just in time to not slam right into it. ”Damn...” he hissed between his teeth, jogging anxiously in place as he looked up the thing. Could he get to the top of the thing?? He knew Joey could...but it was an awfully tall wall, and Matt had never won any contests having to do with upper body strength. ”C’mon...think, think, think...” He tapped his chin, mind racing, and then it hit him - the best plan they had, if a reckless, dangerous one. ”I got it,” he told Joey, in a rush as the monster charged closer and closer. “Don’t have time to explain, but go ahead and jump over, I’ll follow.
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Post by <Raintalon> on Jun 23, 2019 16:38:59 GMT -5
Hange may not have known what electric lights or Oreos were, but meteorology they could handle. And in their professional opinion, the approaching storm looked like trouble, especially considering how poorly equipped the strange house behind them was to weather it. They raised a hand to their forehead, shading their eyes against the glare as the wind began to whip their hair into increasingly unkempt states. “Hmm...well, that was sudden,” they remarked, mind racing with possibilities. It was now their responsibility as a soldier to keep these people safe - only once that was accomplished would they allow themself have a little fun studying the phenomenon. Having made up their mind, they turned to little Myrnin, a smile still on their face so they wouldn’t worry the boy. “Alright, why don’t we head inside? You can help me look for a basement to wait out this storm in.”
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 23, 2019 16:43:20 GMT -5
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? Noah didn't call Myrnin out for the colossal breath he took, though it was funny how seriously Myrnin was taking this. It didn't seem fair to just let Myrnin win, so he would do the best he could to refrain from giggling at how adorably serious Myrnin looked in his serious pose. The issue was that serious just wasn't a look that suited anyone so young, no matter who they were. Obviously, Myrnin was doing his best not to blink, and Noah had to admit it was a valiant effort. He hadn't blinked himself yet, but he knew he probably would soon. Or not. His hidden skills included not blinking for what seemed like ridiculous amounts of time just to freak people out. Nowadays he didn't even need that to freak people out, but he didn't want to dwell on that particular thought. Noah made up his mind. If Myrnin held out for another fifteen seconds, Noah would purposefully move to let him win. He wouldn't be obvious about it, but he would still do it. But Myrnin did not last another fifteen seconds. It wasn't really his fault. His eyes just weren't used to staying open that long. So, soon enough, one of them watered and a tear ran down the side of his face. Myrnin sagged a bit, disappointed, and wiped at his skin. He seemed a bit annoyed that his own body had betrayed him. He blinked several times, trying to work feeling back into his gaze. His eyes felt really dry. He shook his head several times and then admitted, "You win. But it was close!" Noah had shown no signs of moving, but that didn't mean much. Myrnin wanted to believe that he had been close to winning, so that was what he believed. But he grinned and seemed happy enough with second place.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 17:12:03 GMT -5
Nico nodded, making a sound of vague agreement. He would’ve liked the distraction that came with beating someone he could handle in a fight, but that wasn’t something he was going to suggest now. Honestly, though, he just needed a fight he could win. He knew he couldn’t win the one that awaited him when he blinked back into his world. He looked through the hallway at the hundreds of doors. There was always that little thrill of excitement he had first felt as a ten year old. He was impressed that feeling hasn’t changed, despite every horror he had experienced here. “We tried, once,” he replied with a rueful smile. “Didn’t stay. We’ve also tried going through the same doors by counting them, but there’s always a different room behind what seems to be the same door,” he admitted. He let his hand brush along the wall, relishing the mystery of the place. The House had honestly become more of a home to him than his world was, at times. He owed it a lot, even as he hated it for certain things it had done. “Care to choose a door?” He asked, gesturing to the hallway. In his several years at the House, Nico had chosen his fair share of doors. A lot of them had concealed terrible things. A lot of them had been surprisingly nice. And as annoyed as he got with a lot of the rooms he entered, he had to admit that they were almost always a welcome distraction. “Considering we weren’t given a choice last time?” He didn’t trust himself to choose a door. His luck had been rotten enough lately that he didn’t really want anything else that could be blamed on him. The small sound that signaled Nico’s almost reluctant agreement not to try and kill him brought a small smile to Kelsier’s face, though he didn’t turn enough for the boy to see it. Truth be told, he wasn’t as confident he would win a fair fight anymore, although if he was going to bet on anyone it would still be himself. Not that it seemed to matter at the moment, thankfully. “Figures.” He continued as Nico answered his question, and he let his fingers slide off the old wood. “I guess it’s safe to say most of the obvious options, like destroying the doors or walls, setting the House on fire, all those have been done before.” He didn’t mind, honestly. Even after what had happened last time, the House has yet to make him truly hate it. It was a challenge that had nothing at all to do with the Lord Ruler. Where else could he possibly hope to find that? “I don’t believe in luck.” The Mistborn quipped back, finally looking back at Nico. He’d been walking while he thought, and they were fairly deep into the hall now, enough that he could no longer see anything but doors in either direction. “But that means I don’t believe in bad luck, either, so why not. How about....” He closed his eyes, spun around, and grabbed the first doorknob his finger brushed. “...this one.” He finished, then opened the door and stepped through it without waiting to see if Nico was following.
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 23, 2019 18:49:40 GMT -5
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. "It's okay," Sam reassured. Well, no, it wasn't okay, but he accepted Nico's apology and understood that the House wasn't treating him fairly. Sam didn't blame him for getting a bit snappy for that. But it took a bit to say. "I get snappish sometimes too," Sam admitted. "And the House is being a pain. So it's okay if you're a little angry. Now that I know the situation I wont take it to heart so much." His head dipped and it wasn't because he didn't want to meet Nico's eyes. It was just so he wouldn't have to worry about whatever expression Sam might be wearing now. He only looked up when Nico said he wanted to check on top of the bridge. To that, Sam nodded his head. "Okay. I'll just ... check down here some more." He was pretty sure that Nico just wanted some time alone in his own head. He watched Nico and wondered what, if anything, he could have done to avoid that. He wished he could have. But either way, he hoped that Nico met his goals of figuring out a way out and got a breather. Sam also meant it when he said he'd check down below the bridge some more. He looked up and wondered if he could jump to the graffiti. Then again, it looked like it should be read or maybe show something. If Sam thought about it too much, it might be some sort of petroglyph?
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 23, 2019 19:05:13 GMT -5
<Raintalon>In contrast, Myrnin looked up at the storm and seemed almost excited at the prospect of such a large storm. Excited, but not stupid. He looked over at Hange and didn't believe their smile. He blinked at them, then up at the windy expanse of clouds above him. "Alright," he said. He didn't look scared, but he did hope that there would be an excuse to see the storm in action. He wasn't aware of the house and how rickety it might be against the weather. So instead he turned to Hange and trotted along, willing to follow them to where it might be safer.
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Post by <Raintalon> on Jun 23, 2019 19:41:39 GMT -5
The sight of the obstacle would only prove his worries to be true catching the others exclamation to back up his concern. Getting past a wall like that was easy peasy with his experience and all that jazz yet here they were. "Whatever, it's your funeral, man." He spat back, the situation drilling away at what little patience he had left. "If you make it out alive, ever think about joining track?" Reluctantly he made haste jogging towards the towering wall taking in one last breath. A certain fuzziness in his sight urged him to get on with the act already. The encouragement did get him to make his way up the wall, his hands grappling the rusting the fence. “Hell to the no, dude,” answered Matt, grinning despite the pounding beneath his ribs. “The only time I like running is if it’s away from zombies in a video game, thank you very much!” But then Joey cleared the wall, hopefully right out of the room and to safety, and Matt was alone with his thoughts and his incredibly reckless plan. ”Hey, ugly!” he shouted, waving his arms at the approaching creature in an attempt to make it even madder. “Yeah, you! Overgrown bag of pixels! The creature let out a deafening bellow of rage and charged the young man, sending up clouds of dust in its wake and crushing everything in its path as it went. ”Almost there...almost there...” muttered Matt, bouncing on his heels in anticipation. Then, as the noise became almost impossible to think through, he turned to the wall. ”JOEY, IF YOU’RE STILL THERE...GET CLEAR!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, and then leapt to the side, grabbing the fence and using it to propel himself out of the way as the monster, unable to change direction as quickly, slammed straight into the spot Matt had been occupying a moment before. The wall came down in a crumbling heap, hitting the ground with massive force as it and the monster fell together in a mushroom cloud of dust and debris. Not giving the monster any time to reorient itself, Matt darted forward, terrified out of his wits as he sprinted straight through the mess, screeching something that sounded suspiciously like “[FRICK] TRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK” as he went. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the room came to an end. Matt found himself lying on the living room floor in a small heap of dust and fence pieces, flat on his back, gasping for air against the familiar material of the old carpet. ”Oh, thank god...” he breathed, between gasps.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 20:37:17 GMT -5
Nico nodded, making a sound of vague agreement. He would’ve liked the distraction that came with beating someone he could handle in a fight, but that wasn’t something he was going to suggest now. Honestly, though, he just needed a fight he could win. He knew he couldn’t win the one that awaited him when he blinked back into his world. He looked through the hallway at the hundreds of doors. There was always that little thrill of excitement he had first felt as a ten year old. He was impressed that feeling hasn’t changed, despite every horror he had experienced here. “We tried, once,” he replied with a rueful smile. “Didn’t stay. We’ve also tried going through the same doors by counting them, but there’s always a different room behind what seems to be the same door,” he admitted. He let his hand brush along the wall, relishing the mystery of the place. The House had honestly become more of a home to him than his world was, at times. He owed it a lot, even as he hated it for certain things it had done. “Care to choose a door?” He asked, gesturing to the hallway. In his several years at the House, Nico had chosen his fair share of doors. A lot of them had concealed terrible things. A lot of them had been surprisingly nice. And as annoyed as he got with a lot of the rooms he entered, he had to admit that they were almost always a welcome distraction. “Considering we weren’t given a choice last time?” He didn’t trust himself to choose a door. His luck had been rotten enough lately that he didn’t really want anything else that could be blamed on him. The small sound that signaled Nico’s almost reluctant agreement not to try and kill him brought a small smile to Kelsier’s face, though he didn’t turn enough for the boy to see it. Truth be told, he wasn’t as confident he would win a fair fight anymore, although if he was going to bet on anyone it would still be himself. Not that it seemed to matter at the moment, thankfully. “Figures.” He continued as Nico answered his question, and he let his fingers slide off the old wood. “I guess it’s safe to say most of the obvious options, like destroying the doors or walls, setting the House on fire, all those have been done before.” He didn’t mind, honestly. Even after what had happened last time, the House has yet to make him truly hate it. It was a challenge that had nothing at all to do with the Lord Ruler. Where else could he possibly hope to find that? “I don’t believe in luck.” The Mistborn quipped back, finally looking back at Nico. He’d been walking while he thought, and they were fairly deep into the hall now, enough that he could no longer see anything but doors in either direction. “But that means I don’t believe in bad luck, either, so why not. How about....” He closed his eyes, spun around, and grabbed the first doorknob his finger brushed. “...this one.” He finished, then opened the door and stepped through it without waiting to see if Nico was following. Nico almost cursed again as Kelsier opened a door and entered without even a moment's hesitation. That kind of cockiness was what got them into the House's bad books. Nonetheless, part of him was rather amused by Kelsier's showing off - there was a lot there to be respected, even if Nico would never willingly admit it. He also had been rather shocked that Kelsier considered setting the House on fire as an 'obvious option.' As though that wouldn't kill whoever was there, or at the very least cause the House to anger incredibly quickly. It was odd, still, thinking of the House as a sentient being, but there was really no other way to think of it. Nico shook his head and followed reluctantly. The room wasn't what he expected, though he supposed he had learned well before then to never expect anything. The House was too unpredictable to be able to form any sort of expectation at all. However, this room was dark and drab and the lights that hung down from the ceiling made Nico uncomfortable. Nonetheless, as he wasn't going to admit to being at least a little bit frightened in front of Kelsier - Nico approached the table in the center of the room and lazily took a seat in one of the chairs. He hadn't noticed the piece of paper in front of him - well, he had, but it didn't say anything, so he didn't really care.
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Post by <Raintalon> on Jun 23, 2019 20:59:00 GMT -5
<Raintalon> In contrast, Myrnin looked up at the storm and seemed almost excited at the prospect of such a large storm. Excited, but not stupid. He looked over at Hange and didn't believe their smile. He blinked at them, then up at the windy expanse of clouds above him. "Alright," he said. He didn't look scared, but he did hope that there would be an excuse to see the storm in action. He wasn't aware of the house and how rickety it might be against the weather. So instead he turned to Hange and trotted along, willing to follow them to where it might be safer. Hange watched the young boy as they strode towards the house, noting that he didn’t seem the least bit frightened. If anything, the curiosity in his eyes shone brighter than ever in the face of this new, impending event. ”Storms are fascinating, aren’t they?” they said to him, as they neared the house. “Such a powerful event, capable of destroying entire cities, and yet, completely natural.” They poked their head around the corner of the house, spotting Sandalphon and Elliot immediately. “Pardon the intrusion, both of you, but we have a situation. In the form of a rather significant impending weather event. I would advise everyone to start searching for something that could serve as a basement, as this house is clearly not built to survive any significant storms.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 21:14:11 GMT -5
The small sound that signaled Nico’s almost reluctant agreement not to try and kill him brought a small smile to Kelsier’s face, though he didn’t turn enough for the boy to see it. Truth be told, he wasn’t as confident he would win a fair fight anymore, although if he was going to bet on anyone it would still be himself. Not that it seemed to matter at the moment, thankfully. “Figures.” He continued as Nico answered his question, and he let his fingers slide off the old wood. “I guess it’s safe to say most of the obvious options, like destroying the doors or walls, setting the House on fire, all those have been done before.” He didn’t mind, honestly. Even after what had happened last time, the House has yet to make him truly hate it. It was a challenge that had nothing at all to do with the Lord Ruler. Where else could he possibly hope to find that? “I don’t believe in luck.” The Mistborn quipped back, finally looking back at Nico. He’d been walking while he thought, and they were fairly deep into the hall now, enough that he could no longer see anything but doors in either direction. “But that means I don’t believe in bad luck, either, so why not. How about....” He closed his eyes, spun around, and grabbed the first doorknob his finger brushed. “...this one.” He finished, then opened the door and stepped through it without waiting to see if Nico was following. Nico almost cursed again as Kelsier opened a door and entered without even a moment's hesitation. That kind of cockiness was what got them into the House's bad books. Nonetheless, part of him was rather amused by Kelsier's showing off - there was a lot there to be respected, even if Nico would never willingly admit it. He also had been rather shocked that Kelsier considered setting the House on fire as an 'obvious option.' As though that wouldn't kill whoever was there, or at the very least cause the House to anger incredibly quickly. It was odd, still, thinking of the House as a sentient being, but there was really no other way to think of it. Nico shook his head and followed reluctantly. The room wasn't what he expected, though he supposed he had learned well before then to never expect anything. The House was too unpredictable to be able to form any sort of expectation at all. However, this room was dark and drab and the lights that hung down from the ceiling made Nico uncomfortable. Nonetheless, as he wasn't going to admit to being at least a little bit frightened in front of Kelsier - Nico approached the table in the center of the room and lazily took a seat in one of the chairs. He hadn't noticed the piece of paper in front of him - well, he had, but it didn't say anything, so he didn't really care. Kelsier, for his part, hadn’t had enough experience with the House to consider what it thought of his antics. Showing off was second nature for him, so much that he even found himself doing it when he was completely alone. And then there was the fact that Nico seemed to bring his mischievous streak to its full potential. It was....gloomy seemed to be the proper adjective. The lights from the ceiling made it so he could see the table and the two chairs, so obviously intended for them specifically it was unsettling. Actually, the whole room gave off a deeply foreboding mood, as though it was somehow in the air for them to breathe. Nico was pretending it didn’t bother him, and Kelsier followed suit, his easy smile not so much as flickering as he casually ok the seat across from the boy and let his gaze fall to the blank paper. “I think it’s teasing us.” He decided out loud, and his voice echoed oddly in the hard space. “We say we won’t be put off from going in the rooms, and it gives us, what, a dungeon? You can tell it’s supposed to be scary.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 21:29:16 GMT -5
Nico frowned at the piece of paper, picking it up to find words written on the other side. "Huh," he mumbled, reading over what seemed to be a list of questions. "I think it's supposed to be an interview or something," he shrugged. They weren't questions that he would be comfortable answering, but somehow he knew that they weren't meant for him. "Sorry, but I won't be answering anything today," he announced to both Kelsier and the House, crossing his arms in what seemed to be indignation. Anything he wasn't telling Kelsier he wasn't telling him for a reason, and a stupid room wasn't going to change that. "You can, if you want. The questions seem to start off pretty harmless, but there's some stuff on here..." he frowned, scanning over the sheet again. There were things he could learn about Kelsier just from reading the questions meant for him, and that meant there was probably a good deal that Kelsier could glean about him just based on whatever questions were on Kelsier's sheet. "I mean..." he attempted to keep his tone light. "Some of this is obviously to get a rise out of you, but... some of it just seems harmless. I mean..." he frowned again. "Have you ever been married?"
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 21:48:07 GMT -5
Kelsier watched Nico pick up his paper and followed suit, discovering as he did that there were questions on the other side of his, as well. He frowned. These sorts of questions were ones he didn’t exactly avoid, but knew better than to push someone to answer. They were, well....specific. Intrusive. Any number of other things that meant they shouldn’t be asked. He froze as Nico asked his question. His mouth went dry and he tried hard to curb his expression, but regret or guilt or pain or maybe something else entirely flashed through them in an instant, and he looked away, knowing Nico would see it if he didn’t. Knowing he probably already had. “Damn you, House.” He muttered, speaking directly to the walls trapping him. Then, carefully, he addressed somewhere that was almost Nico, but safer. “Once. Don’t ask any more innocent questions.” He had a feeling they had to, though, if they wanted out. His hazel eyes scanned his list for the least personal one. Well, this one seemed almost fair. “Who do you miss most?” He asked out loud, almost not really meaning for Nico to have to answer. More just reading the list aloud so the demigod would know what it said,
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 23, 2019 21:59:50 GMT -5
Nico froze as he recognized the look that flashed through Kelsier's eyes. The look that he tried so hard to hide, but that nobody ever could, even when they wanted to. It was a look Nico recognized - one of loss and pain and the knowledge that you'd never see a loved one again. If the question that seemed the most innocent had elicited such a reaction... there was no way he was asking the rest of these. He didn't want his privacy invaded, and he felt he owed Kelsier the same respect. He hadn't really expected Kelsier to answer, but the answer was out there and the room had showed its hand. And then he heard one of the questions that was meant for him. His face, already pale, drained of color as he processed it. The House knew better than to go poking at that specific hole, but the question had been asked. There was no avoiding it. He wondered what would happen if he lied. It wasn't a very personal question, he knew, but if they were going to keep asking each other questions then he had to know what the punishment would be for avoiding them. "My mother," Nico lied with an even tone, and then something painful shot through him and his back arched as a quick cry of pain exited his lips. There was his answer, he realized, as his hands - now shaking - gripped the end of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. "Sorry," he muttered, gritting his teeth. "I guess I wanted to test the boundaries." He gave a humorless laugh before meeting Kelsier's gaze. "Bianca di Angelo." He knew the name would mean nothing to the man in front of him, but he was sure his gaze was hollow as he said it. He always felt hollow when he thought of her. "And I've got a feeling we can't get out of asking and answering these."
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2019 22:21:47 GMT -5
Kelsier leaned forward, the whites of his eyes flashing as Nico cried out in sudden pain. He pulled back again as soon as he saw that it had been short-lived and Nico was....not okay, but not dying either. He couldn’t tell what had happened but it looked painful, and given how the demigod’s hands were quivering it wasn’t as brief as it pretended to be. Bianca di Angelo. The name by itself meant nothing, but with the haunted look in Nico’s dark eyes, Kelsier didn’t think he’d ever forget it. He also knew, without really knowing how he knew, that Bianca was dead. Maybe it was the expression, or the way he said her name that made him think of her only in the past-tense. Either way, he gave a simple, respectful nod to acknowledge the answer and everything that went with it. “It’s our own fault, I suppose.” He murmured, gazing at the paper in Nico’s hands. “Really should have stuck with the good old fashioned boredom.”
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Jun 23, 2019 22:37:01 GMT -5
<Raintalon> HᥲꙆƒꙆɩɠᖾt AuranskyMyrnin hadn't thought of that, but he had to agree with Hange. Storms were really impressive. But he got a bit distracted as soon as they entered the house again and walked far enough to find Sandalphon and Elliot. Myrnin watched them curiously, but stayed silent as he let Hange speak. They probably knew better about what they were doing. They'd probably been through more storms. "If it doesn't have a basement what do we do?" Myrnin piped up, looking from Hange, to Elliot, to Sandalphon. He would have had more input if he had more of an idea what a basement was. Instead, he was relying more on what Hange was saying and guesswork. "What would we do then?"
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