myironeyes | FAQ with Skewers Sadface McGee [video, open]

[Marsh is centered in the camera's view, the wall behind him plain, rough-hewn grey stone. The light flickers a little, as though not produced by an electronic source, glinting dully against his spikes. His voice is quiet and raspy, but the words are clearly enunciated.]

I am Marsh. I am a warden aboard this vessel.

If you have heard stories of Inquisitors from the others from my world - they are true. But they are not true of me anymore.

If you have not, simply know that I do not wish to hurt anyone.

[His mouth twists faintly, and he reaches up to tap one fingernail against the blunt surface of the left spike.]

Yes, they're real. Yes, they hurt. No, there's nothing to be done about it.

[Since that seems to be what everyone wants to know first. The message ends.]

[Spam, Kelsier's room, backdated to wibbly time after the power swap event]

[Marsh sits in a chair beside Kelsier's bed, burning tin and bronze at a steady clip, compounding wakefulness as he does so, hunched over a plain grey shirt, diligently mending the seams.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He snorts, but it's more amusement than objection. After a few beats of silence -]

...we didn't have stars either.

[He's trolling just a little. It's true, but he's tilted his spikes to catch a view of Ned's reaction.]

...Was it just exceptionally foggy on your planet?

Mists, every night. And ashfalls.

That sounds miserable. Part of the thing I like most about waking up to bake pies is the waking to the morning.

Not the mist.

They were sort of pretty, actually.

[He doesn't love the mists the way Kelsier does, but he got over any suspicions about them when he was small. Most people didn't dare go out in them, so it was a safe time to travel, or as safe as anything.]

But they dissipated quickly enough in the morning.

It's probably a better idea if I stick to my own planet.

Yours sounds. Intimidating.

It's better than it was. Thanks to - the man I told you about.

People tell me they can see the stars now, but.

[He shrugs, the motion muffled by the line of his cloak. He can't see them. But that's alright.]

...The stars are out now.

You can't see the stars?

I don't see based on light, anymore. And they're too far away for the way I do see.

[He's more wistful than actually sad about this. It's not like he can miss it.]

....That's terrible.

It's alright. It's...good that they're there.

[Mare would have liked it, everyone being able to see what she could see.]

They're always there. Even during the daytime.

What do they look like?

[He wonders if they're different from the ones Mare could see. So much else is different.]

From this far away? Bright little fireflies.