>>5878887>>5878895>>5878925<span class="mu-i">The fire takes fighting, but the battle is half won by the rugged construction of the Cestipherion warehouse. A natural firebreak, away from any nearby building. An easy access to water. The thankful gratitude of civilians - and there are nothing but civilians here, remarkable, really, how quickly shamed men and women find a way to lose their gang colours in convenient pockets and sparks.
The Watchers are not so easily swayed, when they arrive in slow, studious force, and somehow, they</span> know <span class="mu-i"> who to talk to, and who to ignore.
You busy yourselves with the backbreaking work of rescue... Scant rewards for a hero, this, the sweat and the pain of tearing up wounds you got from the very people you pull form the fires tendrils.
Does it all seem worth it when one of the Watchers whisper a thankful word to the Masks? They know they'd have arrived to charred corpses if not for your effort.</span>
>+1 Reputation.>If your reputation was previously negative, it is now instead +1.>>5878797<span class="mu-i">Despite cunning insight and fine planning, Mistil has gained an honour guard of the sadly unshakable kind - arrived like the heat shimmer before the firestorm, a Lantern Agent has materialized to walk the scene, querying, questing. Searching. It took them no time at all - in fact, all they did was slide off of the roof and nod towards Embers-Before-The-Fuel and when he moved to intercept she smiled and nodded her head and flashed him a complicated series of hand-signs.
By ancient decree, to keep the Watch, the Lanterns must be lit and so, of course, one leads the other, in all matters of public interest. But a Lantern needs someone to man the Watch, and so, she simply follows Embers lead, nodding, suggesting, at times offering advice. Together, they man the scene until more Watchers arrive.
But she watches you, Riv.
Like she watches everything.
Notes your stance, your mein, the way you move through the
world.Is the sun a little warmer on your skin? Or is it just the heat of the flame?
It said the Lanterns wield blades of heat to stab shadows in the heart.
Fuel their lanterns with oil of midnight. Fight each night to kill shade so daybreak arrives. Shines a light on hidden things. Smells truth like ash, sees lies like icicles growing on people's lips.
A Lantern once came to the Moth Circuit.
Climbed the ranks to Challenger, as sure as the dawn.
Cuffed the Ramisivo, The Night Gale, Champion for three months, there and then, in the title match, for crimes against the Light. To this day, not one person can tell you how he moved or what his style was.
Or so the story goes.
Riv watches her eyes trail after Fourth Dusk, knows she knows the clinking contents, and yet, knows that the proceeds are illicit and the acquisition of it by a curious Vulpes is better joy than in the pockets of a rat.
Some entanglements are best avoided.
This is one.</span>
