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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 2, 2019 17:39:05 GMT -5
Kelsier blinked in, spinning his glass dagger in his hands. “-operation.” He was saying in a light, off-hand tone, then broke off as he saw where he was. “Oh. Never mind. I didn’t have anything I was trying to get done or anything, House.” He shrugged and tucked the knife in his cloak, then walked over and took a book from the shelf. He still kept expecting something to be in it, every single time, but there never was and this time was no exception. He sighed and put it back, then turned to the empty room, arms folded over his chest. “I don’t even remember the last time I was alone here. Bring in someone else, will you? Misery loves company, you know.” Not that he looked particularly miserable, smiling as he was, but he didn’t really want to be there. He had things to do, people to steal from, hope to inspire. He was busy, and there wasn’t even anyone here to talk to.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 2, 2019 18:06:10 GMT -5
”-travars.” A man - though he was young enough that some may still ascribe the term ‘boy’ in reference to him - blinked in, blood staining the tips of his fingers that he pressed to the living room wall. He whirled around at the sudden change of locations. The change he was used to, but this wasn’t somewhere he recognized. His extravagant red coat made quite a statement as it spun around him, settling just a moment later. His eyes - one bright blue, the other pitch black, including the whites - narrowed and his jaw clenched. He pushed a lock of ginger hair out of his face, trying to read the room he was in. Trying to get something - anything - from the other man there. His gut screamed at him that this was a trap, so he pressed his bloodied fingers to the wall again, drawing some sort of sigil. “As travars.” Nothing. “As travars!” he insisted, but nothing. He cursed once. He had to get home. With a glance at the man in the room with him his scowl deepened. “I’m going to kill them,” he muttered to himself. Astrid and Athos Dane. He’d been trying to travel to White London, and he never failed. So logically, he was in White London. Ergo, this was a trap and they were responsible. He reached for the coins around his neck, prepared to try the spell one more time.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 2, 2019 18:18:21 GMT -5
Kelsier turned, a smile on his face as someone else blinked in. “Finally. I-“ He stopped, there was blood on the boy’s hands. Not that there was never blood on his own hands, or the hands of his friends, but... He stepped forward. “Excuse me. My name is Kelsier. Are you new here?” Apparently he was, as he seemed to be...drawing on the walls. Kelsier had to entertain the possibility that the other man was less than completely sane. Then again, different worlds meant he couldn’t jump to conclusions, and he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Until he continued, anyway. Kelsier’s expression shifted. “Kill who?” He inquired, still trying to keep from jumping to conclusions, from making a judgement too quickly, as he had with Nico. “Calm down. You’re in the Paradox House. No time will pass in your-“ He saw the hand move towards the coins and reacted before he could think, burning iron and Pulling the coins out of the strangers hands. Mistborn was the only thought in his head, and he forgot where he was and focused only on the man he didn’t know. Enemy.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 3, 2019 3:46:11 GMT -5
The truth was, Kell was only half paying attention to what Kelsier was saying to him. He was more determined to get out of this trap, and anyone that Astrid and Athos had put with him was bad news and was probably there as some sort of trickery or mockery, and Kell really was not in the mood. And then the coins were gone and Kelsier suddenly had all of Kell’s attention. His heart was racing as he shoved his hands desperately into the many pockets of his coat, cursing when he only came up with one single crushed pastry. No coins. He had given King George III his last Red London coin other than the one he carried around his neck, because he’d taken pity on the old man. He’d had other trinkets in his coat, but he’d emptied them out in Red London before he’d attempted to make the jump to White London, and now he was here. The other trinkets he could get elsewhere. He had a small hoard of Grey and White London coins in his secret place in Red London, but if he couldn’t get back there. “Give those back,” he muttered, trying to sound as commanding as possible. He drew his silver dagger, the letters ‘K.L’ gleaming from where they were engraved. It was a small detail, but one that marked the dagger firmly as Kell’s. “You don’t want to fight me.” It was a true enough statement. There was some magic that Kell would never perform – binding magic or blood magic, in particular, but he would do almost anything else to get his coins back. He needed them to get back to Red London, and he was a powerful magician. One of the two most powerful people in all four worlds. A fire flared to life in his free hand as his eyes flicked up to meet Kelsier’s. A challenge, almost, though there was a sort of desperation there. He knew no servant of Astrid and Athos would ever willingly give him back the coins, but he had to at least try before he committed to fighting. Besides… he was curious how the man had gotten the coins from him in the first place. If it weren’t for the normal color of the man’s eyes, Kell would have assumed he was Antari. Perhaps he was just good with metal. Rare, but not impossible to beat.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 3, 2019 23:51:36 GMT -5
Kelsier knew it wasn’t likely that this person was another Mistborn, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling he had that something was up with him. Add in his strange eye, and Kelsier was about ready to attack him where he stood. Maybe it was completely wrong, maybe he just needed to take a step back and rethink this before it was too late, but he didn’t have time to do that right now. Right now, he needed to deal with this situation. Fast. He’d gotten the other man’s attention now, at least. Kelsier’s resolve weakened as the look of shock passed over the other man’s face, but it strengthened again a moment later, because what if he really was Mistborn? Kelsier couldn’t risk a moment’s lapse in concentration, not now. “Not until we talk.” He answered evenly, feeling the coins in his hand. Not quite like the coins he was used to, but similar in some ways, and it could have been a different version. He didn’t want it to be true, he didn’t want to fight in the House, but…. But he would, if it came to it. He wouldn’t back down first, either. “Welcome to the Paradox House.” He said, almost sarcastically, as he drew his own glass dagger. “You’re right. I don’t. But I might not have a choice.” He itched to attack first, to catch the other man off guard, but he held himself back. Barely. “Tell me about yourself. Where do you live? How long have you been coming here?” If the House was blinking in people from Kelsier’s world, that was very bad news for him. What if it blinked in the Lord Ruler himself, for example. No, wait, that would be good. The Mistborn wasn’t sure whether dead things ever stayed dead if they were killed in the House, but he would definitely be willing to find out if the Lord Ruler ever set foot in this place. But he had to stay focused. He was trying not to make the same mistake twice, but it was hard to hold himself back from a fight, and the (maybe) other Mistborn was right there. He took a step forward, then stopped. “Just tell me who you are.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 4, 2019 0:21:43 GMT -5
Kell wasn’t about to back down, especially not when the man in front of him was holding on to his way home. Just like Astrid and Athos to make him talk, draw out whatever it was they wanted to do… it was probably Holland’s idea, at least partially. Kell’s entire body was tense, itching to attack to get the coins back, but he had to restrain himself. He didn’t want to give the Danes anything against him, and he really didn’t like killing people who didn’t even want to be involved. He had seen what the Danes could do to people… who knew what sort of spell this man was under. Yet whoever this was obviously had enough power that the Danes trusted him to do their dirty work… to contain Kell wherever this was, which meant he needed to get out as soon as possible. He’d tell Emira not to send him to White London anymore without precautions, he’d… well, he’d do his best to avoid a situation like this. He would be willing to deal with Holland only in either Red London or Grey London, never on the other man’s turf. He should have known better than to believe there could be a momentary peace between the worlds… he clenched his jaw, still staring down Kelsier. The Paradox House. What a twisted name to call this sort of trap. His gaze flicked towards the dagger, tensing even more. This was a fight he could win, he knew that. But he would rather it not come to that. “You know who I am,” he said, voice chilling. His gaze darted around. There was a door to escape to if he needed… and the Danes could be lying in wait there. If he got enough time he could probably get somewhere else in White London, but there was still the issue of his coins… he was well and truly trapped here as long as this man had his coins. “I’m sure they told you.” There was something unreadable behind his eyes. “Kell.” The detachment with which he said the word – his name – left the meaning of it ambiguous. Had he known the other man’s nickname was also Kell he wouldn’t have said it that way, like he was referring to him, but he hadn’t known, and the word was out there. An introduction, or an unintentional reference. What did the other man mean ‘here?’ White London? How long had he been Emira’s messenger? How long since he’d been given to the Arnesian royal family? Resentment stabbed at him, but he pushed it back. They were far better than his other options, weren’t they? “Look at me, you know what I am. You know what I can do. What, have you not met Holland yet?” There was a mask of anger in his voice, but layered under heavy sarcasm. Because of course this man would know Holland, he was the Danes’ lackey, just as the man in front of him was sure to be. And it made Kell’s blood boil, thinking of how they treated anyone they viewed as below them. The runes they used to keep them in check to make them do their bidding. Kell really didn’t want a fight, but he wasn’t going to give an inch. Not when he wasn’t sure what information the Danes were after.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 4, 2019 14:16:23 GMT -5
This man wasn’t listening, it seemed. Probably he was new and didn’t yet understand what has happening, but still, if he’d listened than Kelsier would have been in a very different situation. As it was, they were facing each other, each with drawn weapons. Kelsier didn’t really want to fight, but he would if it came to it, and he could see the other “Mistborn” would do the same. It was looking like it would come to a fight after all. He sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, slowly and clearly. “You need to listen to me. This isn’t what you think.” Probably. Unless Kelsier had suddenly gotten very unlucky, and this man was another Mistborn and had been blinking in for a while now. It was possible, and Kelsier didn’t like that at all. Was it likely? He wasn’t honestly sure. It also didn’t matter. He’d find out soon enough whether the man was Mistborn or something else, and for now, he had to act under the assumption that he was in danger of a surprise attack at any moment. His body was tense and ready, his mind moving like a train to keep up with the situation, and his hazel eyes were clear and calm. “I don’t know you.” He answered, his voice betraying none of the thoughts flying through his head. He was good at hiding it, even when he was genuinely afraid, and right now he was more wary than anything else. “Listen, I didn’t bring us here. I’m not your enemy unless you make the first move. If you stand down now, we can talk, and I can explain where you are. All right?” None of what the other man was saying was making any sense. It was like he expected Kelsier to understand what he was talking about, almost like he thought they knew each other, even though they’d never met before now. The scarred Mistborn frowned and opened his mouth, ready to speak his thoughts and clear the situation up before it got any worse.
Kel. Kelsier’s eyes widened, shocked as the other man said not his name, but his nickname. Only people close to him called him that, not random enemy Mistborn who weren’t even supposed to be here. And it was a Mistborn, Kelsier thought, because who else would know his name? Who else would taunt him by calling him that? A random blinker shouldn’t know him by name, and no one in the House called him Kel, no one but people in his own world even knew he was ever called that. Kelsier’s eyes flashed, and he flipped the coins in his hand. It was like he was taunting Kell right back, daring him to try and Pull his coins back. “Who are you? Who’s Holland?” He demanded, his voice deadly calm now, his face a mask of anger. “Don’t lie to me, or I’ll kill you where you stand. You know who I am. You know I won’t hesitate.” He raised his arms and the sleeves fell back, showing the long, thin scars covering both his arms. Then he smiled, though the muscles in his face were still tight. “Or, you can test me. I won’t lose, I warn you.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 4, 2019 14:42:48 GMT -5
Now Kell was just confused. This had to be a game that the Danes were playing, one where they would always be several steps ahead of Kell, but he didn’t know… he was not their Antari. He didn’t trust them, but he wasn’t Holland. Would they go so far as to try to enslave another Antari, one that didn’t even belong to their world? Kell wouldn’t have been surprised, but he certainly wasn’t prepared to deal with it. “Of course you didn’t bring us here,” he snapped, not moving from his stable position. Kelsier wasn’t behaving like someone enslaved, though… Kell wasn’t sure how to react or what to do about the situation. Holland could be cruel at times, often of his own volition, but there were times when the things he did were solely under the Danes’ request. Kell wasn’t certain exactly what compelled Holland to follow them when he very clearly didn’t want to, but he was certain it was some sort of magic. Magic that even he didn’t want to mess with. This man in front of him… it was different. And now he was expecting Kell to know who he was when he was some random person from White London. Things weren’t quite adding up, which had Kell convinced that this had to be some sort of mind game. Or else he wasn’t in White London, but that meant he was somewhere else entirely and he had no strategies to deal with that possibility. “You’re not an Antari,” he pointed out, as though it should have been obvious. Kell’s anger flared as Kelsier taunted him with the coins, but he kept himself in check. He hadn’t stayed alive for as long as he had without knowing when to reign himself in. Rhy could act on impulse, but not Kell. Kell had to play the long game, aware that every reaction had a consequence… that was why he had taken up smuggling. It was something that could only reflect poorly on his head, it gave him a sense of freedom because there was no risk of all out war if he messed it up. Or… there was, but he was careful. He knew what he was doing, the kind of people to sell to in Grey London. But this… the situation in front of Kell now would have repercussions that he couldn’t foretell. “I told you who I am.” He had, and now he was regretting it. The Danes knew who – and what – he was. The Red London Antari, House Maresh, Prince of Arnes, and Messenger for his world. Anything beyond that? Well, anything beyond that even Kell himself didn’t know. What was this man searching for? What sort of answer did he expect? Kell’s gaze flickered down to the knife he wielded, the letters engraved in them. K.L. If they were asking about who he was… he closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself. “Why don’t you give me my coins back and then we can talk,” he said coldly. He was afraid elemental magic would be viewed as an attack, and as much as he was confident in his ability to win, he didn’t want to risk anything this far away from home. Not when he didn’t know if there was a way out. And then Kelsier was displaying the scars on his arms and Kell sneered. They all had scars. It wasn’t unusual in the wasteland that was White London, and Kell himself bore long scars on his arms. Was he supposed to be impressed? Something in him slipped, and suddenly the expression the young man wore looked dangerous. “Why don’t you give those back and we stop playing this game, eh? Tell me what exactly is happening here?”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 5, 2019 10:56:33 GMT -5
Kelsier blinked. So he did know about the House, then. This was going from bad to worse, and the Mistborn wasn’t certain what the best move was. Had he been back in his own world, he would have attacked without hesitation, aiming to kill. In his own world, he was sure of who his enemies were, and (mostly) of his friends. But in the House, those lines were blurred, and he didn’t like to admit he was out of his depth here. It felt like before he was Mistborn. The world had been a lot different then, bigger and more dangerous. He had to admit he was made who he was by what he was, and though he would have given up his Allomancy for the Skaa, and to have Mare back for even a moment...he couldn’t pretend it wouldn’t be a price he hesitated to pay. He was Mistborn. It was hard to imagine being anything else, now. Mistborn or not. Kelsier shifted his weight, trying to come to a conclusion before it was too late. His instincts screamed at him to attack, to not make the same mistake twice and allow this man to hurt someone he knew he was allies with, but his head said to wait and see. He restrained himself. Barely. “No, I’m not. I don’t even know what that is.” Kelsier answered, and Pushed on the coins. Just enough to make them hover about a foot above his hand, flipping in the air like a fish out of water. “I’m called a Mistborn, as I believe you may already know. “You don’t want to fight me.” He added for good measure. His hazel eyes took in everything about the other man - his clothes, his weapon, the initials… The initials. “Wait a second.” The anger bled away from Kelsier’s face, to be replaced with puzzlement. K.L. That couldn’t mean… “What’s your last name?” He asked abruptly, his gaze flying up to search the other man’s eyes for any sign of deception. He found anger there, but it didn’t affect him this time, because suddenly the possibility of a simple misunderstanding seemed...possible. “Do you know me? Have you ever been here before?” He still wanted to attack. His instincts said kill first, questions never, but he knew better than that. Had Nico taught him nothing? Shame opened in his chest and he swallowed it back, focusing only on the man across the living room. “Please tell me. This may be nothing but an unfortunate mistake.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 5, 2019 12:47:39 GMT -5
“Mistborn?” Kell repeated, obviously unimpressed. It was a term that meant nothing to him… probably just a term that the Danes had made up in their court, some title for magicians that were good with multiple elements? Either way, he didn’t seem to think it was any sort of credible threat. But he was getting really tired of Kelsier having his coins… he needed those and Kelsier taunting him was doing nothing but making him more likely to strike. It would be so easy to take them back… and at this point a fight seemed unavoidable. His gaze flicked to the coins, testing out his magic for a moment, just to make sure that it worked here. Because travelling home certainly hadn’t, but… a sigh of relief escaped him as a small breeze stirred up, ruffling Kelsier’s hair and pushing the coins slightly in his direction. Nothing too noticeable, just a confirmation that he could still do magic here. And then something about the other man changed. Like whatever spell he had been placed under dissipated. Kell stood his ground. If it could dissipate it could certainly come back, and it wasn’t like Kelsier had completely relaxed out of his aggressive posture. “Maresh.” Another one word answer, but this one – if possible – even more detached than his first name had been. Because he wasn’t really part of the Maresh family, except when it came to Rhy. It seemed like the tension in the room was going down, but he still didn’t want to risk a fight by taking the coins back. Not if this other man had changed his mind about fighting. “And no.” A small shake of the head. “I don’t know you. I know you’re probably one of Astrid’s new lackeys, and she and Athos have something planned here.” He looked annoyed by all the questions, foot tapping impatiently. “What are you on about? Of course I’ve been to White London before, I’m an Antari!” How could this man not know what Antari were? If he were working for the Danes, then he would at least know of Holland… of course many White Londoners wouldn’t know about the Antari, just as many Red Londoners wouldn’t recognize him as one if asked. Not to mention Grey Londoners wouldn’t have a clue what he was talking about if he mentioned the word. “I hope you know I’m less inclined to discuss with you as long as you have my coins,” he said, something dangerous still hidden in the tight creases around his narrowed eyes. “I can take them back at any moment, but I would prefer to do this peacefully. The longer you have them the longer I’m inclined to take this as a broach of the peace between our worlds.” Not that he really thought the man in front of him would understand that thought, but he still thought Astrid may be listening in.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 7, 2019 10:53:59 GMT -5
It wasn’t quite adding up. Kelsier stayed where he was, still playing with the coins but less it taunt and more to give himself something to do now. It was like he had no idea what ‘Mistborn’ even meant. Which would make sense if he was from another world after all, but also if he had been in the House before and was simply toying with the other man, trying to get his guard down enough to strike. Kelsier narrowed his eyes, weighing his options. He could give the coins back and see what happened. It wasn’t like he didn’t think he could dodge them, after all, and he trusted his reflexes enough that a fight wasn’t something he was extremely worried about, even against another Mistborn - or whatever he was. “Mariah.” He said slowly, his eyes slipping down to the initials again. So they weren’t his, unless he’d switched houses. Was it really possible that they had the same name? Or at least, that his name was Kelsier’s nickname? That seemed so wildly unlikely, and yet it was the House. Stranger things had happened, countless times before. If it hadn’t been for past experience, Kelsier might have simply attacked and asked questions after the newcomer was subdued, but instead, he listened. None of what the other man was saying made any sense to him. It was so wildly improbable that another Mistborn would have made up such an imaginative story, in fact, that he was really beginning to believe this was the House toying with them after all. Should he give the coins back? He didn’t want to risk it, but he also didn’t want to fight a new blinker because he looked an awful lot like a nobleman, and he hated to think he’d learned nothing since coming here those fateful first few blinks, when he’d been ready to fight anything and anyone who looked at him wrong. He wasn’t like that in his own world, and he didn’t want to be like that here, either. “Fair enough.” He said finally, and Pushed the coins lightly back towards Kell - and he thought that was probably his name now - so that they fell in a neat pile at the other man’s feet. “I apologize, you startled me is all. My name is Kelsier. And yes, my friends call me Kel, which is why I thought you were taunting me. You’re not in your world anymore, and I have no idea what London is, or any color it might be.” He hoped he was right. If he wasn’t...he was ready to down a vial of metals in an instant and do what he needed to do. His posture was far from relaxed, but he offered a smile as though it were a peace offer. “Truce?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 9, 2019 4:05:16 GMT -5
Kell frowned. Which was just a deepening of his usual expression, so it wasn’t particularly noticeable. He saw the way Kelsier’s gaze flicked down to his dagger, calculating… something. He had been named after the dagger, yes. Whatever K.L. had stood for was long gone, replaced only by the name Kell. Whatever past had been erased… well, Kell wanted it, but not at the cost of what he had now. He wouldn’t trade Rhy’s presence in his life for anything, though he would never admit it out loud. Someone had to play the role of responsible brother, and because Rhy was Rhy, that role had fallen to Kell. It was one he would have kept even if the king and queen hadn’t insisted on it, hadn’t made it part of the conditions upon which his life rested. It was like all the color flooded back into his face upon getting the coins back. He took a deep breath, placing them once more around his neck, his fingers brushing over the Red London coin. He was listening to what Kelsier was saying, eyebrow quirking up in response to the odd coincidence of the name. “Apologies,” he replied, voice still uncertain and icy. “I don’t tend to taunt unless there’s a fight to be had.” That wasn’t to say he wasn’t on edge anymore, but at least he had a way home. He turned his back on Kelsier, slicing his palm once more with the dagger and painting the symbol on the wall again. “As Travars.” He was going home, now. He didn’t know who Kelsier was, and he didn’t know where he was, but he was beginning to seriously doubt that this was White London. This didn’t seem like something the Danes could set up easily. But his spell wasn’t getting him out. His eyes widened as realization hit him. He had ended up here, with no explanation, and now he couldn’t get out. He knew what he had been taught by Tieren, that Black London had been closed off. He remembered Holland’s warnings, before the Danes had… done something to the older Antari. He remembered being told not to mess with Black London. Eyes wide and suspicions up, he turned back to Kelsier with fear in his eyes instead of anger. The only thing that was capable of living in Black London was magic itself. And of course it wouldn’t know the name of the place it was from… why had Kell been brought here? Why… why him? Why had Kelsier said so quickly that he hadn’t brought Kell there? Like he was anticipating the accusation. Fear flickered across his face, now practically tangible. “Where are you from?” His voice was low and dangerous. If they had just both been brought here… well, that was one thing. But if the man in front of him wasn’t really a man… who knew what magic was capable of? If it were to steal his name (and it seemed to have done so already, or at least a weird permutation of it) could it not then steal his appearance? His powers? Could it not set itself free on the larger world while Kell remained stuck in the dying shell of Black London? But he wouldn’t attack until he knew for sure what he was up against. He just… had to be ready for the possibility that the thing in front of him wasn’t human. The possibility that it was far more malevolent than it seemed.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 11, 2019 11:40:05 GMT -5
Kelsier still felt jumpy and uncertain, ready for a fight and not sure why one hadn’t happened. It was hard, it seemed, to come down from that without actually fighting anything. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t quite relax his muscles, but at least his easy smile was genuine. He didn’t want to fight this man for no reason. If he killed, it was because they deserved it. He hated to think of the times that hadn’t been the case, and when he did, he vowed never to let it happen again. Guilt was a bitter thing to swallow, after all. He saw the relief on Kell’s face as the other man received the coins. He could tell it wasn’t faked; the other blinker really did need those coins for some reason. Maybe he could ask and they could get to know each other, maybe even become friends instead of enemies. Kelsier thought he would prefer that. He had more than enough enemies already. Then Kell sliced his hand open and Kelsier inhaled sharply, stepping forward, his hand moving even though he didn’t know what he expected to do. “Don’t!” If he said it harsher than he’d intended, it was because he was surprised, not aggressive. Still, he couldn’t take it back. He licked his lips and continued in a more measured tone. “You can’t use Allo - I mean, you can’t use that to leave. I don’t know what you can do in your own world, but here, you can only leave when you blink out again.” Maybe he should clarify, in case that sounded threatening at all. “Which you will. You’ll go back to the same moment you left behind, you just can’t do it on purpose. The Paradox House has its own rules, and since you’re here you’ll get to know them in time. There’s a lot of different theories about what this place is, but personally I think it’s merely a more powerful version of the magic in my own world, and probably in yours.” He broke off as Kell turned, and almost backed away when he saw the look in the man’s eyes. Fear. Of him? Of the fact that whatever he’d just attempted had failed? He likely thought Kelsier was responsible, as Kelsier had assumed the other blinkers around when he’d first appeared here had brought him. It was a good theory, when you didn’t have any other information at your disposal. Kell only had him. And he didn’t seem to be enough. “Hey.” He said, keeping his voice as low and unthreatening as he could and raising his hands to show he was unarmed. “Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m from a world called Scadrial. There’s magic there, too, magic called Allomancy. That’s what I used to take your coins. But I would have no more power to bring you here than to send you back. Only the House can do that.” How could he prove it? How could he possibly prove he wasn’t lying? “There are rooms behind that door.” He tried, and slowly inclined his head dowards the single door. “Rooms that lead to everything you could possibly imagine, and far more. I can show you if you don’t believe me. Walk behind me with your dagger at my heart if you must. I trust you won’t kill me.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 15, 2019 3:23:04 GMT -5
Kell was more on edge than he cared to admit. Being trapped here with a being made entirely of magic – and that was certainly what Kelsier was – could only be a bad thing. Where was Scadrial? Nowhere Kell had ever heard of, which didn’t bode well. He had studied maps of all three accessible Londons for his entire life. He knew almost everywhere, unless Scadrial was the name of the entire world Black London had been. It looked… nicer than Kell had expected. He had expected a husk of a place, but this seemed… well, not alive, but not dead either. Like something in between. This place felt like magic. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to believe Kelsier that he would return to Red London unscathed, but would he return as himself? How much havoc could magic wreak in the moment he was gone? This was an elaborate sort of trap. And Kelsier was really trying to avoid a fight, Kell could see that. It was just that he didn’t think Kelsier was anything approximating human. He had seen what even the cruel magic of White London could do, he didn’t even want to know what the unrestrained power of Black London could do. If White London’s magic – and truly Red London’s magic, if truly pressed – could control people, was it possible that Black London’s magic could take the form of people? Kell wasn’t used to being out of his depth. He was used to not knowing things, but he had always known enough to have a grasp of every situation he ended up in. He was always the most well informed in the room, and he acted accordingly. For the first time, he knew he didn’t have the upper hand here. A small flame lit up in his hand – a threat, almost, or just a warning. Like a rattlesnake’s rattling before its attack or the spray of a skunk. He was scared, and backed into a corner, and he was willing to fight back if Kelsier didn’t back off and tell him the truth of what was going on. What use could magic possibly have for him? Did Kell have some sort of ability to get out that the magic did not? Could their combined power do the trick? Or perhaps it was just the Red London trinket the magic thing needed to return. But that wasn’t working, and the man in front of Kell had relinquished the keys with relative ease after several moments of tension. How much of Kelsier’s story could Kell really believe before it landed him in an impossible situation? “Antari can travel between worlds. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because I’m the last free Antari?” His black eye gleamed, marking him forever as one of the few that could travel between worlds. Kell wondered what it would have been like when there were more than two Antari left. When it had been more than just him and Holland, now forever at each other’s throats due to factors Kell still didn’t really understand. “I know what world this is, and you can’t get me to stay here.” He didn’t know how he was going to leave if his coins weren’t working, but he knew he would have to find something. The flame in his hand burned brighter, casting shadows on his face. He didn’t know how effective flame would be against pure magic, but using anything more intense just seemed like a way to have bone or blood magic used on him, which was the absolute last thing he wanted. After a tense moment, he nodded. “Show me. Prove to me you aren’t what I think you are, that this place isn’t what I know it is.” His frown, if possible, only deepened. “You’ll be going first, though.” Stabbing the man seemed like a tempting option… though Kell knew he really did need to wait in case the nonsense Kelsier was spewing was actually possible. Worlds beyond where the Antari could go? It sounded unlikely, but anything was possible, wasn’t it? If he stabbed Kelsier and the man bled to death… well, then he knew he wasn’t magic and it would be too late. But if he stabbed and Kelsier was magic… then that would be Kell’s death sentence. Was Kelsier’s confidence in Kell not stabbing him merely bravado, or was it a veiled threat – that even if Kell did stab, he knew he would survive it? Kelsier was impossible to read, Kell was finding. Or maybe he was just bad at reading people in general. That was also a definite possibility.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 21, 2019 1:11:45 GMT -5
Kelsier watched. And waited. He knew now that Kell was simply new, a threat perhaps but not in the way he had been imagining. Kell was no Mistborn, and taking the coins had clearly been a mistake. Too late to take it back now, though. Had he been in his own world, explaining would have been easy enough. He could have talked about Allomancy, taken hours to explain the complex art of it, the rules of each metal and each alloy. He could talk for longer than anyone cared to listen, as experience told. Then again, in his world this never would have happened. Thanks House. “You don’t believe me, do you?” He asked gently, smiling ruefully at the other man. He didn’t want to fight a newbie. He really didn’t want to fight a newbie, but if it came to it he would defend himself however he had to. He owed his people that much, at least. He owed himself that much, too. What would Mare say? He blinked, the question coming to him seemingly out of nowhere at all, but he didn’t dismiss it. Once he’d wondered, he could hardly un-wonder, could he? Mare would say Kell was just scared. She would say it was Kelsier’s job, as the senior blinker, to diffuse the situation before it got any worse. He knew he had to get Kell to calm down, to stand down, and he knew to do that he would have to make the first step, but...did that mean turning his back to someone who might want him dead? Who almost certainly did? Who most likely believed he was part of some nefarious group of...whatever Kell was. Kelsier didn’t know. He wanted to find out, though, because the poor newbie hadn’t seemed shocked at Kelsier’s display of magic, which meant he probably had a few tricks of his own. Then the flames danced on the palm of the other man’s hand and Kelsier went very still. Not the kind of still that means you can’t move, or that you’re terrified, but the kind that meant he knew better than to do so much as twitch. The kind that described someone who had just found a bear cub, or someone who was about to fight someone else they didn’t know they could beat. Calculating wasn’t quite the right word, but it fit better than anxious. Kelsier wasn’t afraid, even now, watching the fire dance. He was cautious, though, because he knew now that he’d been right. Kell was a dangerous person to have made an enemy of. “Honestly, I have no idea what an Antari is.” He said slowly, carefully. Trying not to step on any of the broken glass of this situation. “This isn’t what you think. I’m not the one controlling this. Believe me, sometimes I wish I was so I could just go home.” He smiled again, somehow, in spite of everything. “Not that it’s all bad. Some of my best friends come here, after all. And you’re here. So it can’t be all bad.” His smile faded a bit as the flames strengthened, and he cleared his throat, then tilted his head to one side and let out his breath in a sigh. “Alright.” He agreed, and turned his back to Kell. An incredible show of trust, or he was convinced he could duck in time. Or maybe he just didn’t believe Kell would shoot him…. He stepped into the hall, walked a few steps down, then stepped aside to make room for the other man to pass him if he chose. If not, he could see the infinite identical doors just fine while still being safely behind Kelsier. “What can I do to prove myself to you?” He asked, raising his hands in surrender. “We can go in a room if you want. I have to warn you though, they can be dangerous, and extremely unpleasant. Some of my least favorite memories belong to them.” He didn’t think Kell would attack without provocation. He wasn’t sure, but the other man seemed decently honorable about that sort of thing, and though Kelsier was confident he could hold his own in a fight, he wasn’t really keen on putting it to the test. Especially in the House, where there were variables galore.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Nov 23, 2019 22:49:01 GMT -5
“No,” Kell replied quietly. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you.” He knew it would be so much easier if he could just believe Kelsier – if he were able to believe that maybe there was another world that Kelsier was from where what he was saying made sense. If he were able to believe that Kelsier was a person who wasn’t out to hrut Kell or his world. But that was a risk that Kell knew he couldn’t take. It would also be so much simpler if Kelsier had an easy way to prove what he was saying. Kell didn’t have any brilliant ideas, because what could a person do that magic couldn’t? How could a stranger prove himself when anything he could do could be easily replicated if he were just energy rather than anything originally physical? He watched carefully as Kelsier reacted to the flames. Kelsier seemed human, but there was still that little edge of doubt in Kell’s mind. He could never know for certain, and trusting too easily could mean the ruin of both himself and his world. What would Rhy think then? Kell didn’t care about the King and Queen, they could think what they wanted. But if he destroyed the world because he trusted too easily? Well… Rhy wouldn’t even be alive to think, would he? “Antari can travel in between worlds,” Kell explained, keeping the fire illuminated. “Everywhere except here.” If Kelsier were magic, he would know this already, so there was no harm in putting it out there, right? Admitting to it? His eye alone was enough to mark him as Antari. “Because here was closed off from the other worlds. No magic can leave here, and nobody can get here from other worlds because everything from here was destroyed. For good. So explain to me, exactly, why I’m here. How I’m here.” Was Kell stalling? It was possible. He knew he couldn’t fight pure magic, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try if it came down to it. A breeze picked up around him, causing his coat to float out behind him. He cut quite the striking figure, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to serve as a warning – he had fire, and he air to back it up. He didn’t need close proximity to fight. He had more control than he let on at first glance. And Kelsier had turned his back to Kell, which… well, it should have cleared some things up, but it really didn’t. The flames extinguished as Kell took a glance down the hallway. If Kelsier wasn’t magic itself, then magic surely existed here. The entire place felt like it, and the doors leading on and on into infinity… that was unlike anything Kell had ever seen. Either way this was a trap, but whether Kelsier was friend or foe… that remained to be seen. He took a cautious step down the hall, turning to make sure Kelsier hadn’t drawn a weapon. Kell had a quick reaction time, but there were some things he couldn’t see coming. He didn’t know what the man behind him was capable of. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Kell and he turned, a half-smile on his face for the first time. It was like someone had thrown a switch and a completely new Kell was in the room. Perhaps because, for the first time since blinking in, he had an idea. “No, no room right now, thanks.” He wasn’t going to get cornered too far off of his own turf. “Why don’t we go on back in that room and have a little duel?” There was something burning behind his eyes – curiosity, mischief, maybe – that was dangerous, but not deadly. Yet. “Nothing too serious, just a little test of abilities.” If there was one thing Kell was good at, it was making himself seem like the master of the situation, even when he wasn’t. Because usually, he was always the one with the upper hand. “We’ll set some ground rules, of course. No serious injury or death, nothing that would be illegal in my London – no bone manipulation or pseudo-possession or anything like that. Anything you’d like to add?” He was operating under the assumption that Kelsier was going to say yes. Because if Kelsier passed the test that Kell was laying out before him – without telling him what the test was, of course – then they could avoid a real fight. And if Kelsier failed? Then at least Kell would know for sure what he was up against.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on May 4, 2021 23:34:38 GMT -5
Kelsier dipped his head. It wasn’t an unexpected answer, all things considered. Of course he wasn’t believed...would he have believed him, either? Obviously not. He hadn’t believed anyone immediately when he’d blinked for the first time, either, though,..in fairness, his first blink had been with a child. He was hardly going to believe a random child on something like this, even if he did respect them. He didn’t know what Kell was thinking. And he didn’t appreciate the mystery - he’d much rather have known the other blinker’s thoughts, and what his plans were - but he was as up for the challenge as always, and he wasn’t going to back down, even if Mare was right and it was his job not to let this get too far. He listened quietly as Kell spoke, explaining his world without hesitation. If he thought Kelsier was an enemy, wouldn’t he have been more cautious? Or did he not care about this information? Well, it wasn’t like it hurt to listen, and Kel was never one to pass up free information when he could get it. The more you knew, the more you could accomplish, and the less likely you were to fall into traps. Even if Kell was actually lying. Well, so what if he was? Kelsier didn’t particularly care either way. He wasn’t impressed with Kell’s stance. He’d invented drama. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by it now. “You’re not here. Not in the way you mean,” the Mistborn replied patiently, shaking his head just a little. “You’re not in your world. How does any of this make sense if you are? Tell me, what are all your other ideas? Do you have any other options here?” He shifted his weight, standing tall, his mistcloak moving silently with the motion. Just because he wasn’t intimidated didn’t mean he was going to let it go without returning it with his own warning. He was right, of course, in a way. Magic or not, whatever you wanted to call it, it existed here, and it was powerful. Kel had been at its mercy more times than he cared to consider, and he’d seen others go through the same things, or worse. He looked up as Kell turned back his eyes catching on the smile. Aha...he recognized the expression well enough, having worn it many times before. So this man, too, had more than one version of himself tucked safely away until he had need of them. He, too, wore smiles like weapons. The older blinker didn’t think he’d ever met someone else who used them as efficiently as he himself did, and he doubted he ever would. He watched Kell, expression light and unconcerned. He was cautious, but he wasn’t going to show it. He looked as relaxed and ready for anything as ever, his expression set and his hands loose at his sides. He could draw a dagger fast enough to fend him off if need be, and he didn’t think he’d need to. He considered the offer, or challenge, as it was. A duel with a newcomer. He knew damn well there was something more that Kell had planned, he just didn’t know what it was, and really? He was more than happy to find out. “You wouldn’t be the first I’ve sparred with, in there,” he quipped, turning to go back, his own smile slipping easily over his features. “I’ve gone and started with the best, I can only be disappointed from here on out. But I’ll accept your offer. I don’t have any rules to add, except that perhaps we should have a word to say when we wish to stop. ‘Stop’ works well enough, unless you’d rather it be something more unique?” He was, in truth, excited for this. He’d sparred with Nico enough times, but he knew the boy’s strategy as well as he knew his own by now. This...this was going to be fun.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 14, 2021 0:08:26 GMT -5
Kell’s eyes narrowed just a little bit as he looked at Kelsier. Clearly, even if Kelsier wasn’t magic itself, he was pretty powerful. Which would be interesting, if he was telling the truth about being an ally rather than an enemy. Kell didn’t have friends, not really. He had Rhy, but Rhy was his brother. He had the people he visited and talked to in the various Londons, but they were… well, they were steppingstones to an eventual goal. Perhaps the closest he had to a friend was King George III, and the man was practically senile. Better than his son, though. Kell was under no illusion that Kelsier could be his friend. They had gotten off to a rocky start, and even if Kelsier wasn’t what Kell feared he was… well, then Kell hadn’t treated him very well. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Kelsier was just a victim of whatever had dragged them both here. That would be worse, in a way. That would mean there was something else here with them that they couldn’t see. Something that could be messing with them both. It was easier to just assume it was Kelsier. That way… well, the threat was right in front of him. That certainly made Kell’s job easier, even if stopping magic itself was an impossible task. If Kelsier were human – or Mistborn, whatever he had called himself – then this would just be a normal duel. It would be fun, assuming Kelsier had any skill (and given the fact he had agreed so quickly to the duel, Kell found he believed Kelsier probably did), and maybe even a bit of stress relief. Either way, he knew he was going to learn a lot about Kelsier through this duel. “The best, huh?” he asked, gaze flickering over to Kelsier as he followed back to the room he had first appeared in. “We’ll see.” It took him a moment to consider the rule, then he gave a small nod. Honestly, he had expected a flashier word than ‘stop,’ given what he’d seen of Kelsier so far, but he wasn’t going to complain. Stop was easy enough, and it meant he didn’t have to expend any extra energy thinking of a word or trying to conjure the right one in the middle of a duel. “Ready?” he asked once they were in the room, pushing his red hair out of his face to better reveal the black eye. Well… to see better, first and foremost, but the bit of drama the eye added was almost definitely intentional as well.
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