23rd metal . CTS spam

[godsays]

[ It's after Cassel's announcement that Zane can be found in the CTS.

The scene is medieval - or, ancient, anyway. Armor, swords, horses. A battle. As the door out of the CTS closes behind him, they surround him, weapons braced. He blinks back anguished emotion, and tosses back a vial of metals, and touches steel, pewter.

He launches into the air, and the fight begins.

There are hundreds of them, and only one of him: and yet. He slaughters them. He uses the metal they carry to Push and Pull himself; he is always faster, always stronger, and he is the utter picture of grace.

He kills them all.

And when they are dead, the bright green hill of a battlefield strewn with corpses, he goes into the forest. Braces himself against one tree and flings metal at another, a thud-thud of swords, knives, shields whipping and burying themselves into the bark. He Pushes, and Pushes, until finally the tree splinters and collapses, crashing slowly and mightily into the ground.

He keeps destroying the trees, over and over, until someone interrupts - or another army shows up. ]

Comments

[shakenandlimp]

[Bush gapes, but manages to get his mouth shut and answer.]

I came to use the CTS. Didn't realize someone was inside. Zane, my Lord, you jump like a rabbit.

[godsays]

I could have hurt you, I wasn't -

[ He turns away, inhaling sharply, and exhaling slowly. ]

It was a steel-jump. I Pushed off of the daggers embedded in the trunk.

[ It's not much of an explanation, he's aware. ]

[shakenandlimp]

[Bush's earnest, craggy face has that certain expression of mild alarm that it often has when something has completely bewildered him on the barge-- lifts, lights, the population of folk not entirely human-- it all causes this faint confusion as he strains through what he doesn't understand.]

I am sorry, lad. I shouldn't have come in if I knew you were... busy.

[He looks at the felled tree.]

But no harm done. I'll wait my turn, if I can just get that tree away from the door.

[godsays]

...It's all right.

[ He must have taken more than his share of time anyway. Maybe he needed something like this. Maybe someone had to come in and make him stop.

Probably best that it wasn't Charles.

He stops burning pewter, the metal that enhances the body's strength and speed and endurance, and all at once, exhaustion falls over his form. He sits down, suddenly, hard, and lets his head fall into his hands. ]

I'll go. I need a moment, though.

[shakenandlimp]

You shall take two moments, now, you look done in. [Bush stumps over to him, sitting awkwardly down on the treetrunk nearby.] You've worked yourself too hard. It's water you need, and a stiff mug of grog.

[godsays]

I needed to work myself hard. I didn't want to hold it in.

[ And the physical exhaustion helps, as it turns out.

A slow nod. ] It's easy to forget how thirsty you are, when you're using powers like mine.

[shakenandlimp]

That is why I'm here myself. [Bush offers him an arm.] But it will be here in half an hour, let me walk you to the pub. Should be delighted to get you a drink; you can tell me about it if you like.

[godsays]

[ He hesitates, withdrawing into himself just a fraction. ]

I'm not sure I should be around people.

[ This is absurd, to think he's dangerous; he's exhausted. And yet: with his feelings churning around like this, that's when he last murdered someone. ]

[shakenandlimp]

Ah-hah. [Bush nods, understanding coming. Not entirely, there are still felled trees and the destruction around him that haven't taken root in his mind, but the small human problems of wanting to be alone on a too-crowded ship he does recognize.]

But you should have a tot of rum still; I don't like your colour, and it would do you good.

[godsays]

Just a few minutes, then.

[ He takes Bush's hand and lets the man pull him to his feet. He burns pewter, briefly, and pulls the tree a couple feet away from the door, the effort feeling like it might strain his muscles right off his skeleton. ]

[shakenandlimp]

What I would have given for ten able seamen like you-! It's like you ain't human. But you're looking peaked again, easy there.

[godsays]

Mistborn aren't quite human.

[ He steps out now, away from the CTS, suddenly conscious of the blood on his hands and clothes. ]

...we fuel our powers with metals. Swallowing metals. Each one lets us do something different.

[shakenandlimp]

Strong as metal-- that's how you could haul that tree about. That is pretty clever.

[Bush seems cheerfully unaware of the blood, at least,having seen so much in his day.]

It's not a witch's secret which is which? Ahaha, now there is a sentence to repeat. I mean can you tell me what one made you so strong, there?

[godsays]

It was pewter. 91 parts lead, 9 parts tin.

The jump was steel.

[shakenandlimp]

We should have to keep you out of the magazine or you'd be at our store of shot. [He is joking, shouldering along as if to keep the conversation light by pure force until they can reach the pub and he can be sure that he's sending Zane away with something comforting.]

What metal is to fly? I remember how you said you did love to fly.

[godsays]

Steel.

If you push - physically push - on something that's larger or heavier than you, you only move yourself. Steel does that, only you don't have to be touching something to push on it, and you can push hard. Only with the amount of weight you have, though.

So I push on something that can't move, and it makes me fly.

[ It's working. Zane is loosening up, a little. Focusing on something else. ]

[shakenandlimp]

[It visibly takes Bush a moment to work out the physics, until he lands suddenly on a similar situation he understands perfectly and everything falls into place.] As if you are kedging off, of course, but pushing and not pulling. That is pretty extraordinary. Can you control yourself in the air, like a flying fish, or is it just a leap?

[His good intentions aside, he is entranced with the notion of it.]

[godsays]

You can push off of other things, to steady or control it - but it's just a leap.

Iron pulls, the same way steel pushes.

[shakenandlimp]

You'd be the most splendid topman, you mark me. But here we are to the pub, and I will let you to your own devices once I know you have a hot toddy in you. That is rum, and hot water and lemon, it will brace you up.

[godsays]

I've never had it.

[ He reaches out, touches Bush's arm. ]

There's something else you should know. All Allomantic powers work by Pushes and Pulls. It's not just physical. One of our metal pairings influences emotions. I've done it to you. It's called Soothing.

[shakenandlimp]

Eh? Soothing? What did you soothe?

[He is a little suspicious, but not very. Mostly, as ever, puzzled.]

[godsays]

When you were death tolling. I Soothed - anxiety, horror.

[shakenandlimp]

...I think I remember feeling a bit better, when I fell asleep. That was rude of me, I'm sorry about it.

That was kind of you. You needn't have.

[He won't admit he's been having a rough go of it, but he has, and that kindness was grateful.]

[godsays]

I let you sleep. It wasn't rude.

You aren't upset?

[shakenandlimp]

No-- not a bit. You thought I would be?