006 - Sour Apple

[deadly_ned]

What do you do when you're living in a wide-awake nightmare and every single breath you take you wish with all the desperation you have that you could undo something you once did but didn't mean to because you didn't understand the consequences?

I know things are better now that I'm on the Barge but I don't know how long it's going to be until I can wake up without feeling panicked that it's all been nothing but a dream or that the Admiral will look at me and think I don't deserve to be here any longer.

And I don't know how precarious my position really is. We're all just...teetering, waiting for gravity to catch up with us until we take the final plunge and I know this is morbid but that's who I am. Morbid...Ned, who's surrounded by death and can't get away from it.

Maybe I just need sleeping pills.

[Ned is Affected by the flood and is more of a basket case than usual. He's been an unwilling guest of the American government since he was nine and revealed his secret gift and for the last twenty years has been a neurotic shut-in with limited access to non-military personnel. And he doesn't bake pies.]

Comments

[godsays]

Don't forget to breathe.

[deadly_ned]

Sorry. Too much too fast?

[godsays]

I mean that it helps.

Most people breathe from the top of the lungs. Shallow. The human body is made to breathe better from the bottom of the lungs. It gives you more air, a clearer and calmer mind.

[ A pause. ]

Breathing right helps me. Is what I'm saying.

[deadly_ned]

How do you choose which part of your lung to breathe from? Is that a conscious decision?

[godsays]

Breathe from deep inside you. From your belly.

[deadly_ned]

I have acid reflux. The breath I take from my belly might spill up in less pleasant ways up to my mouth.

[godsays]

I don't know what that is. But it's not the same as forcing something up out of your stomach.

What do you mean by 'surrounded by death'?

[deadly_ned]

I hope not.

When I say surrounded by death really I mean surrounded by dead bodies. It's a...part of my job.

And it's not pleasant or peaceful and I think 80% of my anxiety comes from work-related stress.

[godsays]

It doesn't sound very peaceful. [ He says this honestly. ]

And you can't leave. For what reason?

[deadly_ned]

A lot of men with large guns have a strong say in it.

[godsays]

I'm sorry.

[ He wishes he was present; a little Allomantic Soothing of emotions can go a long way, and Zane isn't good with saying the right things. He could take the edge off of this man's fear, if he was in proximity. ]

I know what it's like to be forced into something you don't want to do.

[deadly_ned]

You do?


Could you tell me about it? It might make it all seem less...lonely, in comparison.

[godsays]

I would rather - in person.

[ Talking to someone who isn't there still makes him somewhat uncomfortable. ]

[deadly_ned]

Why in person? What's wrong with a little distance?

[godsays]

I'm just... not familiar. With this kind of communication. We don't have anything like it in my world.

[deadly_ned]

Oh. Right, that's not...very accommodating of me, is it?


Should I meet you somewhere?

[godsays]

You don't have to be accommodating. [ Just pointing it out, in case Ned really doesn't want to be in his presence. ]

Wherever you want. [ Since Ned is the nervous one, after all. Zane means: wherever you feel safer. ]

[deadly_ned]

Can you come to the kitchen?

I just...like being there. In the kitchen. It smells nicer and something as simple as a smell can turn your day around.

spam?

[godsays]

Yes. I can.

I'll go there now.

spam!

[deadly_ned]

I'll, um.


I'll look for you.

[And the Piemaker will, although he'll be significantly more distressed than usual, propped up against a counter with his hands stuffed nervously under his arms]

[godsays]

[ He steps into the kitchen. Moves smoothly, gracefully.

He's burning several different metals, in his stomach. Tin, to enhance the senses. (Any loud noises will stun him, most likely.) Steel, which lets him track the presence of all the sources of metal in the room. (Except for aluminum.) And brass and zinc.

It's brass that he leans on first, reaching out and subtly Soothing tension in Ned. The power operates blind; he cannot tell what emotions Ned is experiencing. He can only choose which to affect. And this is subtle, as he doesn't want anyone to realize what he can do with his other Allomantic abilities. ]

Ned, isn't it? I'm Zane. [ He doesn't remember if he said that. ]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker glances up, and hops off the counter so as not to be rude. But he doesn't immediately shake the other man's hand, too wound up and anxious to try anything so personal.]

Zane. We, uhm.

We spoke over the network. Right, I'm...Ned.

....which you already knew.

[godsays]

[ Continues with the Soothing. He doesn't reach out for a handshake. He's not the type to touch other people either. ]

You wanted to know what it was like to be forced to do something against your will.

[deadly_ned]

I know what it's like to be forced to do something against your will.

I just wanted another perspective.

[godsays]

What it was like for me, then.

[ His mouth thins. He considers how to begin. Leans back against a counter. ]

In my world, certain children are born with the potential to abilities. Allomancy. A way of using metals for power. The abilities don't manifest naturally. When children reach a certain age - puberty, generally - they are beaten almost to the point of death, so that they Snap and the abilities manifest.

Every noble child is beaten. Very few of them are Mistings. Even fewer are Mistborn, more powerful than several Mistings combined.

I was... nine. Ten.

[ He burns zinc, now, and cautiously Riots, enhances confidence, understanding. Empathy. Trying to make Ned feel connected to him - or, at the very least, if there is a feeling of connection, making it slightly more acute. ]