A Midnight Mystery

[I think I am here. he/him]

It's a quiet night in Alleycity.

For the last few months, all it's been are quiet nights. The days of heroes fighting spiked demons and ancient abominations are over, and the heroes won. New guilds have sprung up where the old ones fell, and the Big 3: the Ghostbloods, DA, and TUBA, remain ever-present in the public consciousness, working in the background, never drawing too much attention to themselves. And why should they? Times are good. The economy is booming. And for once in its tumultuous history, Alleycity seems to be at peace.

Good for you.

You were always someone who stood out from the rest, either through your Investiture, your tools or your personality. In a world of NPCs (), you itch for adventure, wish that you hadn't been born too early to fight evil. 

Maybe it was the drinks that attracted you. Maybe it was the thought that you'd meet a special someone. Or maybe you just had nothing else to do on this quiet night. No matter the reason, come midnight and you find yourself in one of Alleycity's many entertainment venues, surrounded by bustling nightlife chatter, the clinking of bottles and the deep bass rumblings of the jukebox in the corner. Maybe you're seated at the bar trying to con a mark, or perhaps you're watching the live-entertainment from an out-of-the-way table. That's when it happens.

"Oh - hey!"

"What's he doing?"

"Get off the stage!"

A thin man with wide eyes clambers onto the stage and lurches for the head musician's microphone. There's a high-pitched squeal from the speakers as he snatches it from the singer and tweaks the setting. The music abruptly stops. People start yelling at them. The man ignores them and grasps the microphone with trembling hands.

"I - I need to warn you," he says, his voice amplified by the mic. "You have no idea what's coming. Please! I need to say this before they -"

The bouncers begin climbing onto the stage, but their work is cut out for them when something small flies out of the shadows and into the man's neck, dropping him. A figure clad in black can be seen in the corner, holding some sort of ranged weapon, and they run to try and escape the building. Screams begin to erupt, and some people begin to rush out of the building. To them, their bubble of safety is popping.

For you, however... maybe this a chance to be like the heroes you once heard about. To utilize your skills, to have an adventure, and - if you fancy yourself good enough - to solve this midnight mystery. Once and for all.

Now... what do you do next?

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Hello!

If you didn't read the top or if you want more information, this is basically a side-plot set in the Alleyverse, where a mysterious someone has just been assassinated and you have to deduce/fight/strategize your way to those responsible before [REDACTED] occurs. You can bring any character you'd like into this plot, there's room for fighters, scholars, and any other type of character you have.

In effect I'll be the "GM"(ish) of this plot, not having a character but controlling the bad guy/s and environment to react to whatever your characters do. I'll 'guide the plot' in the sense that I'll reveal information depending on what happens to help you solve the mystery, but whatever you do/wherever you want to go with that info is up to you. This plot is open and adapts to whatever strategy or method you choose, whether it's (for example) giving chase to the assassin, interviewing the guests, examining the body etc. And who knows, maybe along the journey your character might even have one of those pesky "character arcs" everyone seems to have these days

The Alleyverse doesn't seem as active as it was, so this is basically an attempt at bringing some more activity in a (hopefully) fun way. To be honest, even if this doesn't take off I wouldn't mind. I just figured I'd give it a go.  Onwards!

 

Edited July 25, 2021 by I think I am here.
;)

[The Unknown Order he/him]

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I'll join this, why not. Just let me reread my character.

 

[Silva]

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*sees it’s Itiah*

*briefly debates being responsible*

Ah storms. I’m joining and we’ll see how this goes. Feeling a bit rusty. 

*digs through old character sheets*

Here we go (for reference)...

Spoiler

Name: Aderet Celeste Blanche Addington

Age: 21

Investiture: Cadmium Misting

Skills: Talking, embroidery, fashion, a blood-curdling scream

Weaknesses: Physical activity. She is afraid of many things.

Appearance: Platinum blonde hair reaching past her waist, bright blue eyes, a slim figure, and manicured nails. Aderet will almost never be found out of a dress, typically floor length, with her safehand covered (also concealing some spare vials of cadmium).

Home Planet: Scadrial

Family: A younger brother (Timothy, age 18) and father. Her mother died when she was eight and a Vorin governess took care of her for nine years.

History: Aderet is the heiress to her family’s business. They’ve been running it for centuries, some even date it back to the Final Empire. A recent break off from the DA caused them some loss in investors, so now her father is working to marry her off in order to form an alliance that will save their company while still being sided with TUBA. She’s spent her life learning how to navigate social situations and being a proper young lady, never spent much time refining her Allomancy.

Theme Song: Lavender’s Blue

Guild: None

 

Come to dinner with me. I’m not like the others. You’ll have a nice time. I like you for you; the fact that you're the heiress to an incredily prosperous company has absolutely nothing to do with it.

Aderet scowled. They all said that. And then, at ten minutes in on the dot, smiled at her with false naivete and promptly asked her how much of the company she was set to inherit. Like that had any relevance to their romantic prospects.

She’d really tried this time, but this one had particular guts. Kept asking about her wealth even when she brushed away the question with a girlish smile and her patented ditzy laugh. He thought persistence would get him his answers.

It wouldn't and it hadn’t. It had just made her fed up. She’d gotten up from the table just as the waiter came by with their orders. She’d felt his hard gaze on her back as she’d walked out of the place. As though he were recalculating his initial impression of Aderet Celeste Blanche Addington and not liking what he found.

Not up for heading home quite yet, she’d wandered the dark streets, trying to calm herself. In hindsight, it had been a terrible idea. She should have known better. Some local hooligans spotted the lone aristocrat and, to get away from them, she’d ducked into this sleazy venue to hide among the crowd. She’d settled into a table in the far corner, still relatively near the door, and begun to cry about her lousy evening.

A few hours later, when her embroidered handkerchief can hardly hold another tear, a man jumps on stage to give some warning she hardly hears only to get murdered in front of her eyes and Aderet’s night has been damaged beyond repair. She knows it. She also knows that in moments she’ll be overrun by the other patrons of the establishment in their efforts to escape.

So she does what every good aristocrat is trained to do in such situations. 

Aderet hides. 

She ducks under her table, wincing as her dress brushes against the sticky floor, and places herself out of the way and out of sight, content to let the others stampede. There, she takes a few moments to let herself process what in Ruin’s name just happened.

Edited July 25, 2021 by Silva

[I think I am here. he/him]

16 hours ago, Silva said:

She ducks under her table, wincing as her dress brushes against the sticky floor, and places herself out of the way and out of sight, content to let the others stampede. There, she takes a few moments to let herself process what in Ruin’s name just happened.

From outside the table, various sounds can be heard. The most obvious of these are the heavy footfalls of escaping guests, but when they bottleneck and crowd up against the small entry door, the scuffles of yelling and patron-elbowing-patron sound their way across the bar. There’s a commotion and another scream when a new set of steps clap against the timber floor, crossing the bar in seemingly seconds, the crash of glass and bottles trailing them. The footsteps grow louder as they near the table Aderet hides under before a figure suddenly slips beneath the tablecloth, panting.

From outside, voices begun to be heard.

“Gone!”

“Where’d he go?”

The figure - dressed in a dark hood and coat - continues catching their breath. When they’re done, they look around and suddenly jump when they see Aderet hiding next to them, as if just noticing her. Fumbling in their pockets, they take out a ten-boxing coin and hesitantly offer it to her.

“I was never here?” A male voice asks, muffled under the mask. In their other hand, they hold a strange metal tool. Outside, the yells of bouncers looking for the assassin grow louder.

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I appreciate it  A bit rusty myself.

 

[Silva]

4 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“I was never here?” A male voice asks, muffled under the mask. In their other hand, they hold a strange metal tool. Outside, the yells of bouncers looking for the assassin grow louder.

She’s already run several not so pleasant ways this encounter might end through her head by the time he notices her and implies that her silence might be bought.

Pride, though, edges the slightest bit above fear for a moment and Aderet regards the coin coolly, blue eyes flicking just briefly to the odd object in his other hand. 

At the same time, her left hand shifts through the contents of her safepouch and grasps a small vial of cadmium flakes. She hardly ever consumes any, yet never feels safe leaving home without. Her internal reserves currently stand empty, dashing a handful of wild fantasies of using Allomancy to slow time until the bouncers find them. She doubts she could swallow any without him having ample opportunity to stop her. Ordinary means will have to suffice unless things change drastically.

Aderet retrieves a vial anyways, transferring it to her free, right hand, while she pins her gaze on him.

“But you are here,” she says with the slightest tremor to her voice. Almost imperceptible. “And I don’t aid murderers for pocket change.” She intentionally leaves in the implication, despite having no desire to do so for any price. Aderet understands how precarious the present situation is, pragmatism now prevailing over her pride, and aims to keep open avenues of self-preservation.

“Furthermore, before you waste precious time considering it--no, killing me to ensure silence won’t do you much good, either. It’ll only make it harder for you in the long run. Much harder,” she says quietly, but firmly. “So, I suggest you cooperate and maybe you’ll get out of here intact.”

[Durrin]

 

“And thank you,” thought Cole as he steel-pushed his latest victim's coin pouch into his hand. Thievery was becoming way too easy now day’s. With the economy good and the DA, TUBA, and Ghostblood going more into the background everyone has seemed to be falling into this lulling sense of false peace, but Cole knew better. You don’t get rid of the rot just by painting the apple red.

Corruption is everywhere.

Cole ducked his head as a bouncer passed by. They won’t stop him since he promised 1/3 of what he earned to the venue's owner, but Cole didn’t trust him one bit. Eventually the big guy would break his promise and Cole would be betrayed. Besides, the big guy probably has about 4 other thieves doing the same thing in here. Cole wasn’t that important.

Just before Cole goes to swipe another purse his victim stands up to yell at a certain disturbance on the stage. Cole looks up in time to see a man get shot in the neck on stage. “Ah Rust,” whispers Cole, “There goes my lulling sense of false peace.” Just then the room erupts in chaos as people bolt for the door, but chaos is a thief’s friend. So Cole started going through the crowd in hopes of stealing items that he knows people will have left behind in their hurries.

Through his searching for forgotten item’s Cole sees the tiniest bit of the heel of a ladies shoe poking out from beneath a table cloth. “How strange,” he says, “Shoes are worthless anyways, always making noise and blocking your feet from feeling. I’d best leave it.” With that Cole sat down to drink something a guest left behind.

 

[I think I am here. he/him]

19 hours ago, Silva said:

“Furthermore, before you waste precious time considering it--no, killing me to ensure silence won’t do you much good, either. It’ll only make it harder for you in the long run. Much harder,” she says quietly, but firmly. “So, I suggest you cooperate and maybe you’ll get out of here intact.”

The assassin meets Aderet’s eyes with brown ones of his own, quietly taking in her words. Chaos still sounds off outside, but beneath the table it feels strangely silent. Again and again, the assassin’s gaze keeps switching from Aderet to the vial of cadmium in her hand, his posture tense. To his side, the metallic tool he holds begins to vibrate, Aons inscribed in its surface glowing. For a moment, the space beneath the table in bathed in subtle golden light.

Then, his gaze flicks to the cadmium vial and then back to her. He curses, the golden glow fading.

“Allomancers,” he spits. In his other hand, he clenches the ten-boxing coin in a fist and stuffs it back into his pocket. He tilts his his head as he hears the booming steps of bouncers nearby, and regards Aderet again with a cold stare.

“What do you want, woman?” he asks. “Quickly.”

12 hours ago, Durrin said:

Through his searching for forgotten item’s Cole sees the tiniest bit of the heel of a ladies shoe poking out from beneath a table cloth. “How strange,” he says, “Shoes are worthless anyways, always making noise and blocking your feet from feeling. I’d best leave it.” With that Cole sat down to drink something a guest left behind.

There are many items the patrons leave behind in a rush; wallets, watches, or wads of cash left in abandoned coats. There’s even a red leather purse overturned on the floor. Nothing’s too fancy — this place is good, but it sure isn’t the type of high-establishment you’d find further down the city. A bouncer patrols the discarded tables, grabbing fallen chairs and righting them.

“You!” he says to Cole, pointing with his index finger. The gesture morphs as the bouncer thumbs over his shoulder at the exit, where a crowd of people still try to shuffle frantically outside.

“Bar closed, pickpocket. No stealin’ drinks you didn’t pay for.”

Behind the bouncer, the body of the dead man still lies on the stage, blood pooling from beneath him. No one — not even the bouncers — seem to pay much attention to the corpse. Anyone who isn’t trying to leave is looking for the one responsible.

[Silva]

3 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“What do you want, woman?” he asks. “Quickly.”

Having not anticipated him to actually believe her, despite not lacing her bluff with anything but the truth, Aderet hesitates just a moment to consider before responding, keeping their gazes locked all the while.

“That.” She gestures to the object. The device appears to her as being in possession of violent capabilities, judging by the way the glow had built and then subsided, and having it out of his hands could only be for the better. “As well as an assurance that you won’t later come after me.” 

Her eyes briefly slide towards the far end of the tablecloth, as though the corpse may somehow be seen through the translucent fabric, then back to him. ”And an explanation of what wrong that...that man did to you to deserve that." The last part slips out almost unintentionally. 

The sounds of footsteps seem to be nearing, though she knows that still comes with no guarantee of rescue. She adjusts her grip on the vial. 

And waits.

[Durrin]

5 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

Behind the bouncer, the body of the dead man still lies on the stage, blood pooling from beneath him. No one — not even the bouncers — seem to pay much attention to the corpse. Anyone who isn’t trying to leave is looking for the one responsible.

Cole sighed. “You caught me,” he said while setting down the drink. He’d taken long enough of a break anyway and needed to collect the last of the item’s before that bouncer got any ideas. 

“It’s strange,” said Cole while picking up a red leather purse, “There are always people saying that something bad is coming and somehow this was different.” By now Cole had made his way over to the body on the stage. 

“The way this guy was killed,” he said crouching down to get a closer look at the body, “It kind of validates what the guy was saying. Makes a man wonder if the rumors floating around are true, eh?”

[I think I am here. he/him]

20 hours ago, Silva said:

Her eyes briefly slide towards the far end of the tablecloth, as though the corpse may somehow be seen through the translucent fabric, then back to him. ”And an explanation of what wrong that...that man did to you to deserve that." The last part slips out almost unintentionally. 

The assassin looks up when he hears the footprints as well, then glances in the same direction Aderet’s looking. He rips off his bandanna and stuffs that in his pocket as well, revealing freckled cheeks and a nose that’s been broken before. When he speaks, his voice is clear, but distant all the same.

“Just another metalborn out of his depth. Thought he could poke the whitespine and get away with it.”

His eyes snap back Aderet, trying to read her.

“Kinda like you.”

He offers up the metallic tool, then snatches it back before she can get close. A glimpse of a logo of some sort is embossed on its surface, but he rips it away too quickly for a better look.

“And you’re delusional if you think I’m handing this over, even to you. You’ve got enough power in that vial of yours. So, instead…”

As he talks, the assassin flips up his hood and shrugs off his dark coat on the timber flooring. The shirt underneath is dark green and made of some coarse material, and light brown hair hangs over his eyes. He looks slightly older than Aderet. Footsteps sound off again and he moves closer, lowers his voice threateningly.

“Here’s how it’s going to happen. We’re going to get out from under this table. If anyone asks, you’re going to tell them I’m your brother or cousin or something. You’re a smart lady, figure it out. When we get outside, you walk a hundred paces down the street and forget any of this. How does that sound?”

He takes out the metal tool again and points it at the ground in front of them, watching it vibrate but not yet glow. The footsteps are practically right outside the table.

“Or maybe you’d like me to see how destructive this thing can really be.”

His eyes are harsh, but he doesn’t meet Aderet’s gaze.

“How many people you think I could take out? Ten? Fifteen? Not like any of this is going to matter anyway. You really want that?”

18 hours ago, Durrin said:

“The way this guy was killed,” he said crouching down to get a closer look at the body, “It kind of validates what the guy was saying. Makes a man wonder if the rumors floating around are true, eh?”

“Rumours?” The bouncer said, moving between the tables.

“There’s enough rumours goin’ around in this city for a few to be true. Wouldn’t surprise me. Also wouldn’t surprise me if this was a standard spiked-psycho or Ghostblood job. Usually, they’re more subtle than this, though.” The bouncer shrugged, moving further down the tables but still keeping an eye on Cole. A few others also turned to look at him now that he’d stepped onstage.

Discarded brass instruments laid motionless on the stage. At the front, still clutching the microphone, was the body. On a closer look, the corpse seemed to not match the rough setting around it. A golden watch lay on the man’s pale wrist, and he wore one of those fine-quality coats you’d only find sold in Shadesmar, the ones with more pockets than most men ever found a use for.

A smooth, reflective puddle of blood pooled from the man’s neck, where something sharp protruded. Very faintly it pulsed light, sending a thin gold sheen along the surface of the blood.

Edited July 28, 2021 by I think I am here.

[Silva]

6 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“How many people you think I could take out? Ten? Fifteen? Not like any of this is going to matter anyway. You really want that?”

He cuts right through her facade of a plan and she feels exposed in the face of his harsh tone. Self-preservation first, she decides. No one blames a damsel in distress for cooperating, especially not after she’s tried for an alternative. 

“That sounds agreeable enough,” she says. Her voice remains even, no matter how sullen her insides. The last question doesn’t receive a response. Answering rhetorical questions serves no purpose, Aderet believes, only makes one seem slower to understand. 

A touch of her handkerchief leaves her fingers wet and the four letter monogram embroidered on it, “ACBA”, faces away from her for but a second as she dabs the damp fabric at her already-red eyes to give the impression of more recent, fresh tears in preparation. She silently thanks her governess for insisting that every lady must excel in the art of intentional crying among other things, then, without giving him a moment to react, clambers over to the side nearest the stage. 

As she lifts her hand to move aside the tablecloth, the words she spoke minutes before, filled with stubborn pride, echo back to her, unbidden. 

I don’t aid murderers for pocket change.

If she won’t do so for pocket change, why in Harmony’s name would she do so for a vague explanation, worth even less? Is she truly such an archetypical damsel distress?

She tucks her vial back away into its pouch for protection and recalls another drilled lesson from her governess. Turned as she is, a loose lock of blonde hair conceals her suppressed smile from sight. 

Aderet lifts up the tablecloth, eyes widening innocently. “Sir?” she calls weakly in the direction of the nearest bouncer. “My b-brother and I—” A sob cuts off the end of the sentence and new tears begin to stream down her face while she crawls the rest of the way out, a disheveled mess, and gestures at the table she emerged from. As though finally taking in the scene, her eyes sweep past the bouncer and lock on the corpse on the stage. On the blood. She freezes

And while she hates to give evidence, especially false evidence, to those who would argue that a woman’s disposition makes her more prone to such things at such sights, she judges the situation as being one of necessity and, embodying the archetypical damsel in distress, faints.

Edited July 28, 2021 by Silva

[Durrin]

“You’re probably right,” said Cole. As he looked closer towards the body he saw that the man wore a golden watch. “No use leaving that for the worm’s.” thought Cole as he slipped it off.

Cole was about to start going through the many pockets in the strange fine-quality coat this man was wearing when something caught the corner of his eye. “Rusts” he whispered. It was the projectile that had killed the man. Cole originally assumed that it was a poison dart or something similar in making but there was something different about this. It was glowing. Faintly and with the tiniest bit of light but glowing nonetheless.

Now Cole didn’t know very much about projectiles and such but he did know that he had never seen one glowing. So doing what pickpockets do best he reached down to take it. Sure he might have been messing up a crime scene but no officials were going to come by and everyone else who might care were looking for the person who did it. Besides, something about the glowing just made him want to look at it closer. Something with the…

Cole’s thoughts were cut off as he heard a voice behind him, “Sir?” Cole turned around to see a woman who seemingly came out of nowhere and was now talking to the bouncer, “My b-brother and I—” Then with tears cutting off her sentence Cole see’s her get up see the corpse and then faint. 

“Ah Rusts,” said Cole, “Can this day get any worse?”
 

[I think I am here. he/him]

19 hours ago, Silva said:

And while she hates to give evidence, especially false evidence, to those who would argue that a woman’s disposition makes her more prone to such things at such sights, she judges the situation as being one of necessity and, embodying the archetypical damsel in distress, faints.

The bouncer talking to Cole continues patrolling the tables, his sleeves rolled up to reveal pewter braces on his arms. He crosses a table and freezes when he sees Aderet crawling out from beneath another one. Instantly he’s kneeling by her side, taking in her crumpled dress, her frail voice, the way her tears muddle up her makeup slightly. He listens to her words with wide, grey eyes, his face contorting in anger.

The last thing Aderet feels as she faints is the bouncer catching her and gently laying her down, then yelling for a healer.

14 hours ago, Durrin said:

Ah Rusts,” said Cole, “Can this day get any worse?”

From Cole’s vantage point on the stage, he’s able to see everything that happens next with surprising detail.

The bouncer he was just talking to stands up from the fainted noblewoman, and with one hand — his previous regard for neatness gone — he grabs the table she was under by the rim and flips it over, his muscles beginning to expand. Glasses of half-completed drinks bounce, then shatter on the floor, and the the tablecloth flutters to the ground beside the overturned table.

There’s someone else beneath the table, someone in a shirt and dark pants right next to the same dark coat and hood the assassin wore. With a start he gets up, points something at the bouncer’s leg. There’s a glint of metal before the bouncer collapses on the floor with a crunch, screaming and clutching his knee.

The assassin points the metallic tool he holds upwards and the lightbulb above him shatters, darkening the venue slightly and sending shards of glass across the floor. The screams of the civilians start again. The bouncer claws at the floor. Blood pools from beneath his leg.

The assassin turns on the crowd, pointing the tool at them but not yet firing.

 “Get out of the way!” He yells, gesturing with his other hand for the crowd to part. People begin to rush and move, terrified.

Edited July 29, 2021 by I think I am here.

[Silva]

23 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

 “Get out of the way!” He yells, gesturing with his other hand for the crowd to part. People begin to rush and move, terrified.

The one perk a faint induced by an attempt at a plausible imitation has over its natural counterpart, despite being infinitely more humiliating, is that it’s lighter. Aderet’s brief lapse of consciousness comes swiftly to an end with the noise of the pandemonium. She doesn’t move when she comes to, only assumes everything has gone horribly wrong.

Typical.

She should have known he’d fail to see that there was still clearly a way to avoid violence, even if it came paired with higher risk for him--exactly why she'd tried for it.

Aderet cracks an eye open just slightly to get a sense of the situation. It’s dark and, judging that all attention is off of her due to the commotion, she reluctantly leaves her heels behind to lessen the noise of her footsteps and scampers farther away from the action, towards the stage. The thought of being near a corpse hardly appeals, particularly after what happened less than a minute prior, but she knows it’s the last place she’d be expected.

Besides, unless she’s mistaken--highly probable given the way she avoids them--, venues like this tend to have a landline phone tucked somewhere in the back and it’s about time someone called the authorities. 

[Durrin]

On 7/29/2021 at 6:53 AM, I think I am here. said:

“Get out of the way!” He yells, gesturing with his other hand for the crowd to part. People begin to rush and move, terrified.

Cole’s question was answered in a matter of seconds. As he watched a table get flipped and a man holding a strange device run out the door, Cole knew that things just got worse. 

First, Cole knew that the big guy would be extremely angry. Nothing makes him angrier than the loss of customers, and with the assassin earlier and now this man taking down one of the bouncers, the amount of people coming to this venue would drop almost half.

Second, Cole knew that if that man wasn’t caught then the big guy’s anger would be taken out on the little people. Specifically Cole.

With this knowledge Cole knew that he really only had 2 options. To catch the man or to run. Now Cole knows his strengths and if a bouncer, who happened to be a Pewter Feruchemist, could be brought to his knees, literally, then Cole didn’t have a chance. So Cole could only run. Now this also has its downfalls. By running Cole could be seen as an accomplice, causing him to not only be hunted down but also making it hard for him to get into any other jobs like this.

Cole was truly between a rock and a hard place.

But then a third option came to his mind as Cole rushed out the door. If Cole could just follow the man then he could tip the big guy off and all will be well. So Cole turned into a small alleyway so that know one would see him as he steel-pushed onto a nearby roof. Hoping with all hope that he didn’t lose the man.
 

[Quivil she/her]

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Imma make an edgedancer for this...

(Vis is the Releaser, not an Edgedancer.)

Vis watches from her perch, considering. Did this look important or fun enough to spend stormlight on?

Edited September 30, 2021 by Tani

[little wheel he/him]

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perhaps this is what I've been looking for.