FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Characters:

Greggory Bast (Male, Sphinx cat (Noble), 22) Allomancer: Mistborn

Cain (Male, Pitbull (Skaa/Noble), 25) Allomancer: Mistborn

Fides (Male, Raccoon (Skaa), 30)

Sweet Alyssum “Aly, Sweetie” (Female, Skunk (Skaa/Noble), 24) Allomancer: Coinshot

Whitley (Nonbinary, Hyena (Skaa/Noble), 23) Allomancer: Tineye

Daina St Hubert (Female, Dalmatian (Skaa/Noble), 17)

Bors (Male, Wolf (Skaa/Noble), 20) Allomancer: Seeker

Gris Middendorff (Male, Grizzly Bear (Noble), 55) Allomancer: Mistborn

Notes:

Story Text:

Another leap.

Another embrace of cold, protective mist.

Another rush of wind, drop of stomach.

Greggory dropped, mistcloak tassels fluttering around him, hood tugging back against the bases of his furless ears. His form-fitting clothing clung to his slender figure as he fell, the now-empty leather sheathes at his hips bouncing in the cool night air.

Right after leaping out into the mist, the hairless feline Mistborn flared iron, and Pulled. Specifically, on the metal fittings and latches around the window he'd just jumped through, using it as a fulcrum to swing himself back towards the building as he dropped. He quickly threw three coins ahead of him, twisting so that he could aim and push them, accelerated with his momentum and the supernatural Push of steel. With a cacophonous crash in his tin-boosted ears, the coins smashed through the window that Greggory found himself swinging towards.

The glass shattered inwards, mist spilling in lazily; an instant later, Greggory himself swung through, tucking his limbs close to his body so he was a tight ball of slender feline, surrounded by fluttering mistcloak cloth.

With a soft grunt, he landed barefoot in the broken glass on the floor, two stories below the library where he'd just killed Lady Ariadne Lobos, along with several of her guards. With pewter and tin burning in his stomach, his flesh was sensitive enough that he could feel the jagged shape of glass beneath his bare paws, but durable enough that he was not cut or scraped, mist swirling around him through the opened window like a protective white cloak. As he landed, he crouched low, hunched down near the floor, body engulfed by the twisting tassels of cloth.

He exhaled, slow and calm.

Admittedly, he could probably have made the jump all the way down the ground floor. But, per his father's instructions, it would be best if Greggory could try to make a bit more of a commotion in his departure.

Standing, he grazed his fingers against his empty dagger sheathes, and winced. Maybe he should have taken one of those swords or spears with him... something to arm himself with aside from the one pouch of coins he had left, which he knew he'd need a few from to make the journey back to his family's Keep.

The cat strode forward on soft, deft paws, keeping one hand near his coin pouch. If he needed to shoot the small metal clips at anyone, he would, but he'd try for close range first.

The library had been on the sixth and seventh floors; when Greggory had leapt and lurched himself in a pendulum swing down into the building again, he'd landed on the fourth floor. With any luck, the guards would be busy securing the ground floor or the source of the commotion in the library, thus leaving these middle floors largely empty.

Presumably.

... Hopefully.

He'd landed in some large sitting room, several sofas and chairs arranged around a pair of coffee tables, glass vases set artistically in the corners and on the tables. In the dark, his tin-enhanced eyes easily picked out the shapes of each bit of furniture, and the glass glinting sharply under his hardened, bare feet. Across from the window he'd smashed through, a double door, lacquered a red-brown, stood solid and shut.

Swiftly, Greggory strode towards the doors, steps taking him between the two empty coffee tables, the unlit room deathly silent after the clatter and noise that had been the library. He grasped and turned the brass handles, shoving them forward and stepping into the long hallway.

And stopped, just outside the threshold, shoulders falling as he took in the sight of a good eight or nine armored guards, metal lines linking to their breastplates, helmets, and weapons, poised to threaten the Mistborn. Torches held aloft, illuminating the long, narrow hall, almost blinding to his tin-boosted night vision. He had to squint and lower his head so his hood blocked the light from the upraised torches, though did not step back from them.

Lay down your arms, Mistborn!'' one of the guards, a parrot, snapped, raising his sword to aim the point at Greggory.Or die by our blades!''

Greggory... heaved a sigh. ``Are you fucking serious?'' he asked softly, more to himself. Not a single one was an Allomancer, nor even a Hazekiller specially trained to combat Mistings and Mistborn. They didn't even seem all that confident in facing him, aside from the parrot.

Pewter flared, the Mistborn surged forward, claws first.

~~~*~~~

He fought his way through two whole floors, burning through his eight Allomantic metals to get the job done. As the nimble cat approached the second floor, descending the stairs on silent bare feet, Greggory slipped another vial of metals off his belt, drank, and replenished the stock of metal flakes in his stomach that gave him his powers. And, pointedly, he tried to ignore the high amount of blood drying on his hands, feet, clothing, and mistcloak.

Fighting with bare claws in such close confines was... messy work.

At that moment, however, things had quieted. Dripping blood, the scent of it almost overwhelming to his tin-enhanced sense of smell, Greggory descended the stairs to the second floor, pewter burning low and hot in his stomach, fueling his limbs and steadying his body.

He once again had a choice, he noted, as he paused on the second-floor main landing.

To the front of the Keep was the main hall, plus a number of seating rooms, kitchens, living areas and the like. As well as the main gate... where, more than likely, a contingent of guards would be posted at the front door, intending to block an escape. It's halls and rooms would be narrow and more compact, limiting his options but potentially letting him limit how many enemies he would face at a time.

Towards the back of the Keep was the massive ballroom, where House Lobos would host illustrious parties for their fellow nobility to attend. Such a big, open space would be useful for him if he confronted any guards or Allomancers. Plus, well... Cain hadn't explicitly given Greggory his thieving team's mission plan, but a slip of the tongue had pointed towards the ball room area being the way they intended to egress with their haul.

The cat hesitated. Glancing towards the front... Likely, his father's intent would be the front doors. Higher chance of running into guards, making a show of things, ensuring that House Lobos remembered his departure. But, the back...

His fingers curled, claws pressing sharply into his palms. Then, he turned and went towards the ballroom.

A second later, he heard commotion from that area, approaching swiftly on legs thrumming with the power of pewter. His ears perked, and his eyes widened in the dark, bloodied fingers reaching for one of his last two metal vials to restock his stores of Allomantic power as he neared the upper floors of the ball room.

It sounded like a fight was raging inside.

Leave these skaa RATS to me!'' a deep voice roared, seeming to vibrate through the floor as Greggory bounded towards the doors to the ball room. With tin, it was clear, though without it he'd have barely been able to make it out as a voice.Search the rest of the Keep- I want any other allies of theirs captured!''

The cat's pewter seemed to burn hotter in his stomach, eyes narrowing.

He burst through the doors, not stopping in his swift dash. Greggory was pretty sure, in the back of his mind, that in doing so he'd actually busted both of the double doors off their hinges, smashing to the floor on either side of him.

Barely noticing, he took three long, impossibly quick steps across the upper balcony. It was a space that, during a party, would have been rimmed with smaller tables, spread some distance so that Nobles attending the ball would have more private areas to sit, eat, converse with allies... and probably connive together, assembling plans much like those that had led the hairless feline Mistborn to attacking that night.

For that moment, it was just a stepping stone, lining the upper floor of the balcony in a massive U shape. Bounding up onto the hand railing, its metal construction clear to his cindering steel and iron, he took one step, and tilted forward.

He had to take in the sight of the massive, half-lit room in an instant.

The main floor of the ball room was half space for larger tables, pressed in close together with enough space for people to slip between those seated around them. Large pillars, supporting the roof and the balcony space above, extended here and there, eight down the length of the building and four wide. The fair side from the balcony's curve was a big, open space with raised compartments to either side, where bands and musicians could play, sing, and entertain. The open space, of course, was a dance floor. Gigantic stained glass windows dominated the far wall, beneath which were the doors that ball attendants would enter and exit through. It was through these windows that light, a few security limelights most likely, shined in, casting the half-dark room in varying shades of red, blue, yellow, purple, and white.

Inside the room was chaos.

Greggory leapt, and flared his steel, pushing off the railings as hard as he could.

He was flung over the heads of the band of dark-dressed thieves, cowering low with two overturned tables as cover, the wood smashed and riddled where coins and other metal projectiles must have torn away at it. Sailing over them, he propelled himself at their opponent... a thick-figured, burly bear of a man, quite literally.

Robed in a black and gray mistcloak, tassels twisting around him as he deflected coin projectiles and hurled his own at the Skaa thieves. A massive bloodstain signaled where he'd taken a hit against one shoulder, enough to wound but, for a man burning pewter, not enough to disable.

His head snapped, eyes widening under his hood. What the fu-

The ursine Mistborn was caught completely off guard. Even with tin sharpening his senses and pewter amplifying his body, pure shock could not be easily overcome.

Shock like a small, lanky little Mistborn launching himself at you claws first.

Greggory slammed into the man, whose sturdy figure kept him from being thrown. He stumbled back a few steps as the cat propped one foot against the man's hip, then tore at him with both hands, claws digging and tearing ferociously. A swing of blood as claw ripped skin, another as the other hand raked across the enemy Mistborn's face.

``Graah!'' The bear roared, recovering from his surprise and undeterred. With pewter, Greggory knew, those slashes of his claws would hardly be the devasting attack they were on non-Allomancers.

The cat gritted his teeth as one wrist and his belt were grabbed. The ursine Mistborn tilted, seemingly flaring his pewter as he swung, and hurled Greggory.

For the second time that night, Greggory was thrown, breath rushing out of him as he was tossed through the air. This time, he was a bit more ready, flaring his own pewter and tin so he could nimbly twist himself mid-air, arms and legs pinwheeling to rotate himself. Instead of crashing into the tables, he landed on them nimbly, legs extending beneath him to hit first, then bending sharply, falling into a sliding crouch on the uncovered table. His claws, both foot and hand, raked through the wood a good foot or two before he stopped, iron and steel burning, pushing and pulling on the metal fittings of the tables for balancing.

All the fighting had stopped, the Skaa thieves nearby stunned by the sudden appearance of a second, seemingly friendly, Mistborn. The bear collected himself, hood tugged up and hiding his eyes, though his muzzle was thick and bared in a snarling distaste as he wiped the blood from his face.

Grrr...'' the man rumbled, flicking the blood from his fingers onto the dance floor where he stood.How many fucking intruders have to invade this damned Keep?'' he questioned deeply, roaring into the large ballroom.

The Lobos are popular, what can I say?'' Greggory mused back, shifting into a squat on the table and, despite the pounding of his heart and the thrumming of his nerves, offering a toothy, almost playful smile. Crouched as he was, his upper body was wreathed in mistcloak tassels, hidden from view.Sadly, I WOULD point out that if you work for Lady Ariadne, she's very much dead upstairs in her library,'' he added in a gamble, hoping that... well, the man didn't SEEM a family member. If he was a hired Mistborn for security, his patron's death may make the fight a moot point to him...?

No luck.

The bear hacked and spat to the floor, teeth and claws bared as he glared at the lithe feline. Fat fucking chance, little bastard,'' he growled, prowling to one side, keeping both the Skaa gang and the new Mistborn in his sights.You've pissed me off, so now this is a point of pride... Besides, I'm sure the bitch wolf's kin will pay handsomely for the head of the idiot little kitten who murdered their Lady.''

Greggory, still smiling, winced under his hood's shadow. Well, so much for that.

Instead, acting quickly, he raised a paw, which he'd slipped into his coin pouch while the bear spoke. Shoving hard, he launched a flurry of coins at the other Mistborn, more a distraction that anything else. At the same instance as the bear casually Pushed back to deflect the projectiles, Greggory twisted and leapt, bounding in three quick table-strides towards the Skaa gang. Coins screamed underneath and behind him, the bear launching an attack as swiftly as he blocked.

Bouncing high, Greggory Pushed off some metal fittings in the tables nearby, launching himself in an arch over the makeshift shields. The Skaa thieves, thankfully, did not take him as an opponent, and surged apart as he landed among them behind cover.

Mmf,'' the cat grunted, ducking down. The instant he'd landed, another smattering of coins, some his own, sprayed at the overturned tables from the bear's flaring Steelpush. The wood held, mostly, but a few spots tore, coins zipping by.Fuck...''

``Well, thanks for coming to die with us,'' one of the thieves grumbled.

Greggory looked up. Having landed in the middle of the group, with his back up against the table `wall', he had to peer in 180 degrees to take in each of them, flaring his bronze a bit to get a sense for what he was working with.

A portly gray and brown raccoon man, dueling cane in hand and a pair of soundsticks strapped to his waist. A skunk woman who, based on the two bags that Greggory could see many small blue ethereal lines leading to, contained a wealth of coins for steel Pushing; a Coinshot. A lanky, sharp-haired hyena from whom the steady, burning pulse of tin resonated, a clear Tineye. A scrawny young dalmatian girl who couldn't be older than 16 or 17, a shoulder tool bag clutched to her chest. A thick-figured young wolf man with a hood on, whose bronze pulsed heavily, flared intently to watch out for other's Allomancy as the team's Seeker.

And... Cain. Of course, the muscular, scarred pitbull crouched in hiding beside Greggory, offering a thankful, if troubled, smile.

``Glad you could join us,'' Cain nodded lightly, sincerity in his warm, brown eyes.

Greggory's cheeks warmed. The larger male was so close, practically nestled up against him... Heat radiating off his chest against the feline's slender arm, skin prickling, tin making it feel red-hot, the smell of him filling Greggory's lungs at his slight inhale, and-

N- No, no, there were important things to deal with.

``Get out here you band of little shits!'' A flurry of coins snapped against the wood, Greggory reflexively burning his own steel, feeling similar action from the skunk and pitbull on either side of him, trying to subtly disrupt the attack from the burly bear.

The cat exhaled, nodding and focusing himself.

Facing off against a big, powerful-looking Mistborn enemy. He couldn't approach, not without getting shredded by enemy coins or overwhelmed by their numbers.

Though, at the same time... a large man like that, the ursine Mistborn didn't seem one for mobility, not like Greggory was. He'd hunker down, fight at range, maybe deal in grappling and pins... A little like Ariadne, above, but more favoring his oversized weight advantage, that massive gut and chest surely adding to his sturdiness in a steel or iron fight.

Another round of coins smashed against the table; yeah, that sounded like they had HEFT.

So much so, that Greggory almost had to assume that not many of the anchors in that room would support the bear Steelpushing or Ironpulling himself around. Not like they would for the scrawny feline, or even the slightly bulkier Cain.

An enemy who liked to throw his weight around, but couldn't move easily.

A Coinshot. A Tineye. A Seeker. Two non-Allomancers, one seemingly a makeshift Hazekiller, the other... a lockpick?

And two Mistborn.

Two Mistborn, Greggory noted mentally, shifting to look at the metal lines connecting back to the bear's own metal equipment. One of whom still had a little sliver of Atium...

``We can win,'' the cat decided, looking to Cain, and then at his five allies.

The wolf, who'd sardonically mused at his arrival, opened his mouth to retort. But, seemingly seeing Greggory's resolute and confident expression, he stopped. Then, nodded back. ``Alright then... What do we do, friend?'' the Seeker asked.

Greggory gulped. A plan was forming...

``... Does he know you're...?'' he asked softly, almost just mouthing the words to Cain. He could feel the pulses of the bear's own tin as he prowled to the side, trying to get an angle at the Skaa thieves and their new Mistborn ally. He didn't want the enemy to hear.

Cain shook his head, mouthed back Thug' while pointing to himself, thenSmoker' while nodding to the dalmatian girl practically cowering next to him. Most thieving groups would have a Smoker on the team, someone who could burn copper, shielding their allies from bronze's detection. The assumption the fearful lockpick was one such Allomancer was a sound one, even if it was wrong.

Greggory nodded back, the plan solidifying. Taking shape.

He exhaled, flaring his copper, bronze, steel, iron, pewter, tin... The surging power made him feel more solid, like his body was bursting with the power of some immense force beyond the limits of his senses. Something coiling and eager and protective, brimming with might... For some reason, the mental image of the mists curling around his body as he burned metals came to mind. Their wisps dancing across his smooth skin, pressing inside and filling him with strength.

Sturdied, Greggory turned to the band of Skaa thieves. With a slight shift on his feet, he cleared a space of the solid wood table, and brought his index finger to it, claw poised and hardened by his burning pewter. Swiftly, he began scratching a diagram into it.

One by one, the thieves ascertained their parts. To Greggory's surprise, they even began to seem excited. Only a little of that was brass and zinc, touching their emotions encouragingly; not seeking trust, but confidence and strength of will.

It was time, once again that night, to defeat a highly trained Mistborn.