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The Lord Ruler's perfect capital city, Luthadel, is doing the impossible: rebelling. Skaa half-breeds are being taught the power of Allomancy, something that the Lord Ruler's obligators said only existed in the nobility. The enslaved skaa, with their murderous benefactor, now fight back against a living god's oppression.

So, the Inquisition was formed. The nobles begin to fear assassination from all sides. The times of nobility Mistborn killing each other are over. The Steel Inquisitors look for aristocrat traitors and insurgent skaa, and the skaa try with all their strength to merely survive. The Lord Ruler's perfect Final Empire is slowly devolving into chaos.

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Mistborn Series Brandon Sanderson
Allomantic Table, Symbols, and Cartography by Isaac Stewart
Luthadel Images: mking2008
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Over You

Musical Arisella Blanchart Alistair Casuana

1 reply to this topic

#1 Arisella Blanchart


  • Social Butterfly

482
House Hasting
  • Age19

  • Relationship StatusCourting Cedric Hallieau

  • OriginAustrex

Posted 08 April 2017 - 12:01 AM

The candlelight glittered in the ballroom like a haze of golden stars, but Arisella Blanchart barely noticed the dreamlike beauty. It was hard enough to pay attention to the man seated directly across from her, despite his being her actual date to the Perrault ball. No, there was simply no room in her thoughts - or her heart, for that matter - tonight. Not since she had seen him across the ballroom. Had their eyes met? She wasn't sure; she'd looked away in such a hurry that it was impossible to know for sure. But whether they had or not didn't really matter. She had glimpsed the man who still carried her heart in his coat pocket, and it made the emptiness within her ache all over again.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, wasn't it? And absence, and all that stuff? So why did it feel like she'd stabbed him in the back only yesterday? It wasn't fair; surely he would never so much as look at her again, and she certainly didn't deserve the chance to approach him and apologize. So, somehow, she was just going to have to put the past behind her. Accept the fact that she would never be whole again and, well, get over it. This was Luthadel, wasn't it? Plenty of people thrived here without so much as a sliver of a heart left.

Except the very thought of that stabbed through the emptiness like a hot knife. She couldn't do that... could she? Wasn't she already?

Either way, what she needed right now was to get her head on straight and remind herself what was real. Alistair was gone and he wasn't coming back, no matter how badly she wished for him to look at her again. Excusing herself from Cedric's table, she wove her way aimlessly through the crowd, hoping to lose herself in the unfamiliar faces while she talked - or in this case, sang some sense into herself.

"Over, I'm so over you
The way that you look
In a 3-piece suit
Over, I'm so over you
The way that you held me
Like nobody else would
Maybe if I tell myself enough
Maybe if I do
I'll get over you
Maybe if I tell myself enough
Maybe if I do
I'll get all over
You
You oh
Over you
You..."

Posted Image


#2 Alistair Casuana


  • Captain in Austrex's 3rd Infantry Batallion

119
Best Cousin
  • Age22

  • Relationship StatusSingle

  • OriginAustrex

  • Allomantic StatusKnown

Posted 08 April 2017 - 05:25 AM

She still his breath away.

He hadn't been looking for her. He'd just been surveying the crowd, trying to do something, anything, to avoid looking at Caden and his Fathvell girl. Then their eyes had met, only a moment, so fleeting that he'd have been able to trick himself that it hadn't been her if his heart hadn't forgotten how to beat until she looked away.

She was here, and now that he knew that he couldn't help stealing glances, his eyes sliding to her table time and time again. He kept dragging his gaze away, trying to scoff at his own idiocy. How many years was he going to pine for? She was literally sitting at a table with her date and here he was, stealing lovelorn glances. Still, not matter how he berated himself, he could not stop himself from looking for her. Surely there was nothing wrong with a look?

But when he looked yet again and she was gone, disappeared into the crowd, he felt something inside crack just a bit. Suddenly sitting down was intolerable. The entire ball was intolerable. He wanted to leave. Now.

He stood up, starting to thread his way through the crowd. As he did, the jaunty Southern tune that had been playing slid to something far more somber, and the things he'd whispered to himself suddenly became song.

"Over, I'm so over you
The way that you laugh at everything that I do
Over, I'm so over you
The way that you said that you'd always be true
And maybe if I tell myself enough
Maybe if I do I'll get over you"






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