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The Horneater origin story, as told by Rock and paraphrased by me, goes something like this: "Always persecuted by the [rest of the] humans, the Horneaters' ancestors asked various spren for help. These spren offered to grant them their homes as their own, but warned that the [rest of the] humans also persecuted their kind (Kaladin scoffs at the idea of Horneaters being chopped down by woodsmen). The 'spren' of the mountain refuses to help them until they have proven they can cultivate a home for themselves on their barren slopes. When they do so, [she] it grants them the home (which they had already made for themselves) that allowed them to live in relative peace alongside the [rest of the] humans." I believe this is the story of a group of listeners that succeed in breaking from the cycle of desolations by convincing Cultivation to give them a human-like and -compatible form, thereby allowing interbreeding. I'll break this down into notions: 1) The persecution by [other] humans definitely aligns with the desolations. 2) All their pleas to the Spren are answered in terms of transformation: The suggestion that, by living in the forest, they would be targeted by woodsmen, or by living in the sea they would be targeted by fisherman, indicates that in those cases they would become wood or fish. Sounds like Listener forms to me. 3) When they went to the mountains they were not offered such an obvious transformation, and were basically asked to Cultivate the peaks into somewhere habitable in exchange for being sheltered from the persecution mentioned in part 1). On the face of it this seems like the weakest offer, seeming to be 'if you make a home for yourself, thereby making this place easily habitable by humans (and therefore accessible to the ones persecuting you), I'll let you live there'. However, we know there is a Shardpool in the middle of the Horneater peaks, and the suggestion has been that it is Cultivation's, what with all the surprisingly habitable ecosystem. Perhaps, in fleeing to the peaks and Cultivating it into a home, a group of Listeners convinced Cultivation to grant them a human-like (and -compatible) form. It was this that made them safe from the humans, with whom they could now breed to dilute their hereditary vulnerability to Odium whilst maintaining their culture (hence the singing, and treating spren as gods). What do you guys think?

Soaring into the dark alley on self-granted lines of blue light, the small man lands before the void. His bones crunch from the impact, but immediately knit together. He approaches the Void at Feruchemical speed, his dark blue robe rippling in the fluorescent glow of the mist- like stormlight rising from his skin. "I have done what you asked..." He rasps to the Void in a heavy Scottish accent. "And..." MY GREAT CONTRIBUTION TO THE SCIENCE OF HEMALURGY-- Drumroll- I have gained ethical licensing for our "baking experiment"!!! *Fanfare* Hemalurgy.docx *Trumpets* He awaits the approval of the Void.

It really does depend on the cat. I've met cats who disdain humans. I've had a cat who could sense when I was experiencing menstrual cramps and would turn herself into a purring kittycat heating pad to make me feel better. (She was not a lap cat any other time.) I have even met a cat who hated all humans with a fiery burning passion, save her one chosen human, who would hiss at and attempt to bite anyone who got too near who wasn't the Chosen One. ...until the day I wandered in with a bamboo flute and started playing and she decided that my offering was worthy enough for her to rub up against my ankles and purr. (You should have seen the Chosen One's wife. She had to pick her jaw up off the floor.) The point is, cats are very much individual personalities and it's disingenuous to try to throw them all in a box together.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....... Who wouldn't want cookies like that? Seriously?

I now exist! You have read this worthless line of text, it is now in your brain, and you have no way of removing it!

Don't eat the cookies? why not? Cookies are wonderful and sweet and tasty! Why not have cookies? Cookies are great! If someone offers you cookies, you definitely need to take them. I took the cookies, and look at me! I'm doing great! @Secrets, we need some more cookies over here.

How would I make a sale? Find a new "customer" and have them come down the dark alley o' baking?

Another soul under @Secrets belt, I have partaken of the forbidden cookie. Although I am no longer... "properly" human... I shall devote myself to the culinary arts. BTW- how many spikes did Telsin have? I think Suit had three.

I am sorry my friend.

I sincerely apologize for my misnaming of the ugly lizard crab thing. Also...

Cookies or Brussels Sprouts...

Soundly defeated through the power of brussels sprouts...

Favorite character- Wayne or Hoid Cookies- What cookies? I know no cookies!

Thanks!

Thank you everyone! I would have to say... ooh.. uh... I think that I would have to say that Words of Radiance is my favorite! That's a hard question (So far...)

I have read a lot of this forum, (no contrast to how much I read the books) and am now getting an account. I think that I will probably focus a lot on stuff like Mistborn cosmere hints, though I love the whole thing! PS: (I have not read Warbreaker, so I will have to see what I can pick up.) PPS: How do I get titles?

"So the next time you feel stressed, think of the sloth. They don't do crem and they haven't gone extinct. You can afford to take a nap." —True Facts Videos

Hithon wasn’t a fool. He knew that the steps up that platform would be steps sorely regretted in his future. It wasn’t a question of if, only a question of how. Shaking his head, he forced the darkness back, and tried to consider once more. He was an invisible man. Unless a man sought him in particular, he could stand still in a room and never be noticed. In a crowded marketplace? His pursuers would do best to wring their hands and give up. There was no power at work here, no Old Magic or...Radiant magic. He was simply a man who knew how to be unremarkable. It was a skill that had kept him alive. An invisible man had no business wanting to be a Knight Radiant. A soldier, a hero. To consider it was madness. The darkness laughed at him. He was no hero. The darkness mocked him, thrashing around him. Reveling in the perpetual dark. Hithon gritted his teeth. He would not fall today. He did his best to shut it out, day by day. That oppressive, leering darkness. Even though he had had to fight them every waking moment of his life, it never got easier. Even after two years. It was a torture that he supposed no man could ever truly get used to. It was madness. And yet. He found himself pressed between the crowd, feeling his way to the platform. It was not difficult to find his way. Highprince Kholin was on a raised dais, and while he did not shout, his voice carried. Orienting himself in the right direction, he found the end of the line of hopefuls. He felt the presence of many spren nearby. Awespren, anticipationspren, some gloryspren. He couldn’t see them, but their presence was clear. With every step he took, the darkness would thrash more, it’s frantic battering causing him to stumble more than once. And. the closer he got to the dais, the weaker the attacks became. This was why he strode up the dais now, why he allowed the eyes of the crowd to rest on him. Atop the platform, he felt the imposing presence of the Highprince, and stood at his best approximation in front of him. He looked straight ahead, and he knew the moment the Highprince noticed his eyes. His eyes that were a milky white, devoid of that spark of life. To his credit, the Highprince did not comment on it, and Hithon respected the man for that. Kholin touched his shoulder, merely asking: “Speak the words.” Hithon did not hesitate. “My Life before Death.” This was simple. Practiced. Any doubt he held he banished to say the next line. “My Strength before Weakness.” And finally. “My Journey before destination.” The rumbling of the Highprince’s voice. “Breath deep, and know your heart be true.” Hithon breathed. And he smiled. The cloak that the Highprince wrapped around him was nothing. The cheers of the watching crowd were worthless. The fact that he was now a Knight meant nothing to him. There was only one reason he had chosen to walk the fool’s journey. One reason why he had come to the Highprince and his men. When he had been working alone, the monsters would stalk him. When the Highprince had come, the darkness had drawn back. As the storm came to life inside him now, the shadows screamed and dissolved into the light.

So they're the ones who are going to pay for Trump's wall!

Oh mighty ... BAKER! I wish to join your ahhmmm.... guild! baking guild!

Here I would like to compile a list of cosmere references, implications, just anything you want for any of the Mistborn, Era 2 books. Theories and speculations are welcome! Please, this is a continuing list! Try to find as many obscure or not references and post them here, this should be very useful for future purposes!

My pet peeve: a person registering five accounts and upvoting their own content. Why? "I was just messing around" they say. Yeah, you're banned, bro...

The launch codes had arrived. Niobe hadn’t expected Mi9 to comply, but they had done as asked. Their loss. Nine assault rifles, all loaded, at least two stuffed in each coat pocket. The long-range bomber was set up facing the office as planned. Niobe picked up the pictures of N and Mi9’s high school girlfriends. Cute. They chuckled to themself and walked out the door, leaving it unlocked behind them. They doubted they’d be returning. The first port of call was getting those two out of the damnation closet they’d locked themselves in. Fortunately, Niobe had some ideas about that. They walked into the front entrance of MI9. “Agent Niobe, how good to see you.” The receptionist said, grinning. A nice looking lad. Niobe had probably interacted with them at some point in the past. “Here to see N.” “N? I believe she’s busy dealing with her sister right now.” “Even better. Where is she?” “In her office.” “Thank you, I know the way from here.” Niobe got into the elevator. “Get your sister for me. And her friend.” “Sorry, what, Agent Niobe?” N replied. Seems like she was going to resist. Niobe pulled a pistol out of their jacket. “Get your sister from that storming closet and bring her here.” “I don’t have the key.” “You what?” “I don’t have the key.” “For storm’s sake!” Niobe cried out. They pulled the trigger. “I guess I’ll be getting them myself.” Gunshots. The lock came off and the door opened almost immediately, with both the Sheep and Mi9 tumbling out and sprawling on the ground in a tangle. Sheep looked up and immediately looked down again when she saw the gun pointed right in her face. “A-agent Niobe. Thank you for getting us out of there. You don’t happen to have any water on you, do you?” “Water?!” Mi9 perked up. “I’m afraid not.” Niobe replied. They took the pictures out from their pocket and threw them onto the ground where Sheep and Mi9 were sitting looking dazed, recuperating from their unusually long stay in the closet. Mi9 noticed them first. “You weren’t kidding, eh?” “Not at all.” “So you really are challenging us?” “Yes. I am here to kill you both.” “Mind giving us a breather before you do that?” Sheep asked. Niobe sighed. “So be it.” They turned and walked over to the window, looking out over the Thames and at the buildings beyond. It was so beautiful and yet so… awful. A click sound behind them. They turned to find both Sheep and Mi9 with guns pointed at them. “I have many explosive devices throughout the building as well as bombers ready to blow this place to kingdom come. You do not want to shoot me.” “We’ll be the ones to decide that,” the two said in unison. Niobe died. The window smashed behind them. They fell forward. Neither pistol had been fired. Sheep ran over to the window. A figure stood down on the other side of the river, too small to make out the details, but big enough to see that they were holding a rifle. They waved. A notification noise. YOU’RE WELCOME FOR THAT ONE - ARIN & DESMOND In capitals. On the screen. The building blew up. Sheep and Mi9 were thrown backwards, falling to the ground as it collapsed around them. The wall fell in beside them and sparks flew across the room as the computer bank folded over itself, snapping the electronics within and breaking the circuits. It took less than a second for Sheep to be back on her feet, pistol in hand. She pointed it down at Mi9. “This wasn’t me, Sheep.” “I know. It would be stupid of me not to take advantage of this, however. You found me out.” “I what?” “You found me out. I am Aries Mi9.” “You are?!” Sheep sighed. “I thought you knew….” “Well I claimed you were, but how could I be sure?!” Sheep sighed even harder. “Never mind.” She fired a shot to Mi9’s side. “I don’t want to kill you, Mi9. You are a friend, even if on an opposing side. But if you try to stop me, you will die.” She turned to go away. “Sheep… answer me one last thing. Who is Gemini?” Sheep turned back and chuckled. “Gemini? Only time can truly tell that.” And with that she was gone. -------------------------------------------------------------- This is the endgame. With me or against me, time is running out. Your sides are meaningless. Find the Double Agents or die trying, agents. --------------------------------------------------------------- Seonid was lynched! They were a Spy "Hacker" Vote tally: Seonid (3): Amanuensis, Arinian, Magestar Drake Marshall (1): Daniyah Cycle 7 has started! You have 21 hours! Player List:

Hi all you wonderful peoples. New here.. 20+ year fan of WoT, Finally pulled kicking and screaming away from the teat of Wheel of Time into the Cosmere by Brandon Sanderson's Mental Snake Charming. I am looking for a List (or looking to make a list if one doesn't exist) of the Various Power Factions on Roshar. i.e. The Sons of Honor, the Envisigers, the Ghostbloods, the Diagrammers, Possibly the Amians (both types together or seperate?), the Various WorldHoppers that don't fall into Rosharan Specific groups (17th sharders, Silverlight Archivists, etc...) Just so we have one place to track their activities, members, and possible motives. If there is one, please point it out (I tried searching, and found various comments on many different threads, but not a thread specifically about them with the info in one place), If there isn't one what should I be aware of or wary of before trying to make this topic thread?

My Friends, I believe I have a good response to the hypothetical dilemma posted above, and not surprisingly, it is a combination of the wisdom of various Sharders who have been kind enough to post. I love to theorize about the future, but if a person truly believes they are correct, I think a new standard is required. Fortunately, Sanderson's worlds are so vast and intricate, that there are a million theories to discuss with what is given as fact, and what could be in the future, so I tip a hat to the opinions of @Pagerunner and @Quiver. However, @Landis963 and @Belzedar most closely reflect my own views on the matter, and I believe would preserve the experience we all look for in the moments of "Awesomeness". Therefore, to follow the Zeroth Law of Sanderson, and to ere on the side of Awesomeness, I would postulate the following response: 1: Following @randuirs advise, I would have taken a picture with the main reveal including today's Deseret News paper for date verification. This is much easier than encrypting and keying- old ways are good ways!). Proof of timing and scope is needed for hypothetical credibility and to keep people from thinking or saying "What a dope! Says he has a great prediction with bad spoilers, but won't tell anyone!". 2. I would create several ancillary questions to be posted in public forums that would verify the kernels of the prediction using known breadcrumbs and published information. I would NOT however do so in an order or time that would lead to an obvious reveal of the prediction. This is needed to verify prediction, as well as a chance to put friends on the right footing to make the same discovery, without dashing to pieces the match of wits with the author, who always holds the upperhand. 3. Ask two very simple and direct questions of Brandon, in a private setting. If they get RAFOd, I will say no more to other people. If they get RAFOd with a big smile (he loves to do that when people guess what he has hinted at but doesn't want the future plots revealed), I too would smile and say no more to other people. If it does NOT get RAFOd or if is discussed at all, I would then immediately post on a more public forum the question and answer, and post the photo with the date with it. The boards would then explode with discussion on a hundred new topics related to it. Once again, I appreciate all the views, and have argued internally in very nearly the same lines as each of the posters, but people read books for different experiences, and a major plot reveal can and does spoil the moment of discovery that Brandon loves to include. Just like he wishes he could have had the experience of reading the Way of Kings like his fans did, I would prefer to save that experience for others who might be tempted to read more than they should years before the books come out. (I am one of those people). Thanks for your various and honest input. It is appreciated- even for hypothetical situations.

Ever wonder what Bruce is like when he's not squeaky (which is to say, whenever he's not beside himself at the idea of a trip to Petsmart)?

She couldn't stay there. It was white, all white, so white white white. White wasn't a good color, because it wasn't a color at all. It was the absence of color, the absence of beauty. It was the color of nothing. The color of snow. Funtimes teleported out of Blueberry's bathroom, giving minimal thought to where she went. When she opened her eyes, she was outside. Blueberry's house was behind her; the crumbling remains of the neighborhood Blueberry had claimed were in front of her. Overgrown yards, untrimmed trees with piles of rotting leaves underneath. Broken windows and doors gaping open. Reminded her of—no, no, she couldn't think about that now. They were gaping open like power sockets. That's what they looked like. Power sockets always looked like they had their mouths and eyes wide open, like they'd stepped on a joy buzzer. She giggled. She felt better already. Funtimes moved along the cracked asphalt, pausing to bat a few weeds like a cat batting yarn. This was fun. This was nice. Much nicer than what she'd been thinking about. Like what she'd been thinking about last night when— —no, no no no no. No thinking about that. No thinking. No think. She cast about desperately for a distraction and—Noodly One be blessed—saw one over the horizon. Something colorful. Something sparkly. Something shiny.

I'm suddenly imagining Shallan inhaling an entire highstorm and then transforming it into a rain of pew pew lasers. And to steal a line from Rodney McKay 'That's what happens when you back a brilliant scholar into a corner!'. Hey, if Tavi can do it in Codex Alera... Dammit, now I want that to happen even though I know it won't.

Hope you get it, Del. On my good news front: I exceeded my monthly word count goal by just over 915 words!

I really want a partner. Someone who will go for long walks with me and always be there and love me unconditionally. A dog, is what I mean. I really want a dog.

You know how sometimes scientists answer "magic" to a question that's complicated or something not well understood?

Speaking of, we're getting a kitten.

Just a few really basic things. In the prologue, you start in third-person omniscient viewpoint, then move to third-person limited, then back to omniscient for little bits. Then, in Chapter 1, it's in first person. The tense also changes from past to present for bits of Chapter 1. As a rule, these variations shouldn't happen. Pick a tense, pick a viewpoint, and stay consistent. And if you're open to more practical advice... The prologue introduces Ian, but doesn't tell us much about him. We know what he looks like, but there isn't a strong sense of personality. You tell us what he's not -- a nerd or a jock -- but not what he is. 'Loner' isn't very descriptive. Try to establish the main character using actions and emotions. Let him show his true colours by doing, saying, and feeling things. If you're looking for some examples, most of the Marvel movies do this really well. Make sure the hero has some clear, distinctive qualities, and make them obvious. "Just an average kid" is the most boring kid in the world. Heroes stand out, even before they're heroes. The Doctor scene is interesting, because it introduces both Ian's abilities and the villain. The big problem here is the pacing. You don't need that whole paragraph to show that he's not in his own bed. He wakes from a deep sleep. There's an EKG monitor. He realizes he's in a hospital room. Got it. He calls out because he's confused. A nurse sees that he's awake, then goes to get the doctor. Everything before the doctor's arrival is trivial. Don't draw it out. The other problem with this scene is Ian's behavior. He doesn't seem confused or curious. He really should be asking "what happened?" "How did I get here?" "Where are my parents?" It seems boring and uninspired, but it's the way people react. It's a reaction readers will understand. And we need to understand the main character's actions. Otherwise, we disengage. You say "I squirm against the uncomfortable restraints, trying to give the doctor a hint to let me go." But why doesn't he just ask the doctor to remove the restraints? And you've probably heard this one before, but... show, don't tell. I'm talking about the syringe. Don't say "a scary-looking syringe;" describe the syringe, and let the scariness speak for itself. Tell us it was cut glass instead of plastic, and the needle was about as thick as an HB pencil, and the liquid inside the glass was bubbling like 7-Up on steroids. Bubbling so loud you can hear it. Ian demands to know what's in there, but the Doctor just tells him to relax. Ian can't relax. He struggles against the restraints. The Doctor advances. A drop of liquid falls off the tip of the needle and sizzles on the floor. Ian begs and pleads, but the doctor just keeps coming. There's something wrong with his eyes! Okay. I'll stop now.

They probably would claw out of it anyway. Also, throwing cats is not something you should do.

I don't have a problem with Windrunners having to swear an oath promising to fight to the death if necessary, but I do have trouble imagining how it would come up organically. The last few oaths Kaladin swore came to him at a time when they were particularly relevant to his situation. Like, he swore to "protect those who couldn't protect themselves" because that's literally what he was trying to accomplish. He swore to protect even those he hates so long as its the right thing to do after he came to that conclusion and did just that. I feel like it would be kinda messed up for the final initiation for joining the Windrunners to be something along the lines of: having to be put into a situation where you literally feel like you need to fight to the death or sacrifice yourself. Seems to me like that would be a violation of the first oath, but that's just my own speculation.

For movies, I think there'd be spren for different tones and genres. Actionspren. Suspense-spren (evolved from anticipationspren). Epicspren (evolved from gloryspren). Witspren, for Joss Whedon dialogue. Artsyspren, for Oscarbait. Marketingspren, for product placement. Plus modern-world spren for both real life and fiction. Cutespren. Awkwardspren. Hipsterspren. Nerdspren. Memespren. Tweetspren. Probably Pokemonspren.

Thank you, I'm glad that you do. @Edgedancer Here we have Voridgaze considering if getting up is really worth it. I didn't really know what a long cloak is supposed to be, so it's actually more of a flowing dress? Also, everyone (including me) likes to complain about how hard hands are, but no one ever talks about how difficult the feet are.

As a disclaimer, I barely if ever played Life, so don't expect accuracy I shall go for entertainment instead. To pass on the torch, @Quiver what happens when Lyla plays Guess Who? Ray was worried by this game. Nighthound was planning something and the fact that he already had a wedding dress prepared for when she landed on the field was disturbing. At least it wasn’t too revealing. It was Nighthound’s turn to spin. He ended up drawing a card. “What in the name of-“ An alligator burst out of the playing field and ripped Nighthound apart between its jaws before he had a chance to react. He didn’t go down immediately but the gallant animal continued to tear him apart. Ray snatched the card out of the air while making sure to stay away from the carnage. ‘An alligator takes over the plot. Also if you’re Nighthound you die.’ When Ray could finally lift her eyes from the card again she could see the alligator standing victoriously. Was it flashing its teeth at her in a cocky smile? Ray just took her chances and mounted the alligator and rode it away into the sunset.

When you're in tears after a completely crap day and people keep trying to talk to you...

Kaladin at the end of WoR:

----------------------------------------------- Gemini-Aries’s Secret Base, MI9 HQ ----------------------------------------------- “You’ve failed me, Mr. Oleny,” said Aries, somberly. Her voice had a digital tinge to it and Doc could tell that it was coming not from a person actually standing there, but from a speaker somewhere in the room. It sounded almost like she was whispering. “Where are you?” Oleny asked. The voice was disconcerting. He couldn’t place it in the room, and with no light to see by, he couldn’t find the speaker either. “That is no worry of yours.” A loud banging noise suddenly sounded out. The speaker crackled, the sound obviously far too loud for it. “Aries?” “Do not… worry about that. What is important is that you have been caught.” “I can… I can explain!” “No. No you can’t.” “Aries, please. I’m good at this job, you know I am.” “While that is true, you have compromised your position. You really expect me to leave you in the field when MI9 know who you are?” “No, no, but, you could reassign me! Put me somewhere else!” “With Joe?” “Yes!” “Joe is dead.” “What?” “Joe is dead, Oleny. Sorry. Thank you for your service.” The room was dark. ----------------------- A Joe in the Bush been lynched! They were a Double Agent "Coffee" Vote tally: A Joe in the Bush (2): Amanuensis, Arinian Drake Marshall (2): Assassin in Burgundy, Daniyah The Young Bard (1): Seonid Cycle 6 has now started! You have 24 hours! Have fun! Player List: --------------------------------------------------- Unfortunately, Mi9 seems to have... fallen asleep. It's very uncomfortable. Regardless, they have informed me that no missives were submitted. Agents, step your game up. How do you intend to catch the Double Agents without taking advantage of a vital line of information?!

Sunmaker. (Sunspear is the capital of Dorne, which I'm 96% sure is not in the cosmere.) And in WoK, we get this quote from Sunmaker: It's interesting because it's so completely opposite Dalinar's current beliefs. I'd guess Oathbringer is a book that Sunmaker wrote. Part autobiography, part Art of War. And in Dalinar's flashbacks, we'll learn that it was very important to him in his youth, when he was a ruthless bloodthirsty warlord. It was his guide to life, and Gavilar's inspiration. The grand arc of Dalinar's life is symbolized by his shift in reading material -- from Oathbringer to Way of Kings.

what if they constantly bickered (partly because of clashing ideologies) and neither would admit their feelings for each other but they still liked doing things with each other. Then the rest of the original vessels began referring to them as married jokingly and somehow the southern scadrians heard about that (maybe from Hoid), turning that into religion. Have I mentioned that my life will be complete only when I read dragonsteel?

Idk if this should be under stormlight because I associate this specifically with spren, but the cognitive realm is everywhere so I posted it here. Anyway the theory itself: I've been thinking for a while about if we had spren in modern society, and what kind of new spren might pop up as a result. Then I listened to Steven Hawkings a brief history of time again, and considered the whole debate over black holes. This debate and deep thought on their existence would obviously have some sort of effect on the cognitive realm. So would, while they were not actually proven to be real, there be black hole spren as a result of all the thought and discussion of them? In that case, what if they weren't real? Then wouldn't said spren be representing the IDEA of something that isn't even real? This brought me into a whole new idea of questioning. In this hypothetical modern earth with spren, there are lots of people who love various forms of fictional entertainment- video games, movies, comics, perhaps even maybe social media could be counted. Could all of these create spren given how much people spend on them and think about them? So here I postulate some more about these movie and video game spren. These spren maybe would be attracted by a really good movie. But what is a good movie but conjecture and actors? And what is a comic but super heroes (those are the comics I read any way) that are completely not real! So if you attracted maybe a Batmanspren because you are obsessed with Batman. But Batman isn't real. Neither is any super hero. Although, on roshar there are superpowered individuals. So I guess what I'm really asking, is people thinking something is real enough to create a spren out of it? That or people constantly thinking about and objectifying it. But now while I'm thinking about it, I want to think more about this hypothetical present day world with spren. There are lots of instances where the public has been convinced that there was a massive conspiracy- such as the whole McCarthy affair. Would that, in this hypothetical world, create communistspren? Even where few or no communists existed? Beyond the whole fake idea spren thing, this world could also have new spren based on new public symbols. What about the crazy obsession over the dress a year or two back? Would that dress with its stupid stripes have created a spren over how much discussion there was? I imagine there would also be such things as patriotspren, peacespren, extremistspren, racespren- just based on modern isssues. Second to last idea I promise. If all these spren, especially the spren based on an idea that is actually false, create a truth? We know that the cognitive realm can affect the physical realm, so, I ask, could, if every person believed that Santa was real, could a spren powerful enough to MAKE a Santa become real? I know I'm going out on a limb here but tell me what you think. Finally, in this hypothetical world, Brandon sanderson would exist. Therefore we would be obsessing about how books. Therefore, by creating this thread, in this hypothetical world would I be attracting a SANDERSONSPREN. That's a Brandon sanderson paradox if I've ever thought of one. I apologize for the discontinuity of this post most of these idea suddenly poured out as I was writing it, so I have no idea how this would all work.

Thank heavens God made endorphins, because gak that rock was heavy.

Joe felt weird. It was a strange feeling, like what you get from eating something strange, then thinking something strange, then smelling something strange, but not noticing it until a few hours later and all at once. Something was different. He tried to remember, and traced the feeling back to the night he died. Then came back. What was different? The ash was the same, Rat was the same, the village was still insane... was it himself? He patted himself all over, to make sure he was corporeal. He was. He turned to Rat. Rat had not left his shoulder since the day he died, perhaps to protect him. It was easier to talk to him now. "What is wrong with me?" Squeak. Squeak, squeak-squeak. "Have I changed? Should I change my name to Fred or something?" Squeak. "Are you sure? How can I be not useless? Was it because I had that vendor?" Squeak squeak. "No? I feel empty, like something has left. Can you explain that?" Squeak. "So many people are dead. I died too! Wait a moment... does that mean I won't die again?" Squeak squeak squeak. "Dang. But there is still hope?" Squeak. "That's good. I guess I'll go and do something." I'm going to continue supporting a frisking of inactives. Drought, my vote's on you.

For some reason, when I write sentences, I tend to combine words. For instance, when writing (not typing) "the ear" I would write "thear". I think it's just that I think faster than I write. Additionally, when I'm translating sentences from another language (latin), I will translate a word in my head but write it down untranslated. I'll read "quis" think "who" and write "quis". I'm a smart

I wholeheartedly approve of this. Get one with a smushy face, if you can. I can definitely sympathize. What you do here is ultimately up to you, since you know your parents and the situation better than I do, but if you want my two cents: If your parents are the sort to freak out over two guys dating each other, and then find out that you are dating not only another guy, but a guy they told you specifically not to see, then things are going to be much worse for you than they would have been if you and this guy were just friends. If you're still dependent on your parents, then the risks almost certainly outweigh the benefits. Rebellion is always a risk, but it should be a calculated one.

Hello, hi friends. Pretty sure the theory you're talking about is mine, Renarin's Visions and Truthwatching. There's a lot going on in that theory but the crux of it is that Renarin's visions aren't a normal expression of Truthwatching, and that there's something possibly sinister going on with them. That said, I do believe that Renarin is probably actually a Truthwatcher. He has a spren, he healed his eyes with Stormlight, he hears screams when holding dead Shardblades. I just also thing there's more going on than just normal surgebinding when it comes to his visions. As for the rest of this thread, it's funny, I immediately pegged both Ym and Stump for Truthwatcher, and thought it was confirmed by the text alone. I'm now trying to figure out why I did that, considering I don't remember Ym using anything other than Progression. I think. It was probably the appearance of his spren, who looked like refracted light rather than the vines and crystals we got from Wyndle. Now, the fact that neither Stump nor Ym displayed or mentioned any kind of compulsive vision behavior during highstorms or any kind of hypergraphia just kind of feeds into my "there's more going on with Renarin than just Truthwatching" theory. I feel like Stump's orphans, at least, would have seen and mentioned something if she were succumbing to visions like Renarin was.