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A pile of books shifts in the corner, and a tired-looking face appears.

"Hum? I miss something?"

Mistrunner clears her throat and reaches for her crown, promptly remembering that she does not in fact own one. "A bit, honestly. Maggie and I were just discussing a few flavors of bookie, if you were wondering."
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Amrynn looked up from "The Hero of Ages" (he was frustratingly close to the end, but couldn't find time/was too lazy to pick it up). "On the topic of bookies, a Jasnah-flavored one might do the trick." He suggested, "It makes you uncaring, if a bit cold, to others' opinions of you for about a half hour. Side effects include an obsessive and stern personality." He picked up one for himself, nibbling on it slowly. "We should really make a list of flavors for a bunch of Cosmere characters."

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What is a bookie?

Maggie gasps. "You don't know what a bookie is??"

She whips out her new iPhone and begins scrolling through the role play furiously. "Found it!"

"Want some bookies? They're like cookies, but shaped like books. And they taste like characters. See, that one's a Kaladin. It tastes somewhat like feelings of inadequacy mixed with pure awesomeness!"

She sinks back into her chair, feeling awkward. "Er, if you want some, they're on that table."

  

"Does that help, Summer?"

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    "They seem the be the only cookies around here that aren't filled to the brim with spikes, spheres, or metalminds." Amrynn remarked.
    Fi sat on his shoulder. "Well, would you really complain that much if you got some free stormlight or, oh I don't know, ALLOMANTIC POWERS with your delicious treat?"
    "Stormlight, maybe not, but I'd rather not be susceptible to control by a destructive shard of the universe." He said. "But maybe that's just me."

Edited by Amrynn
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A knock came at the door. A dark-haired man lugged a bulky package across the floor, his cloak trailing chocolate shavings. He cleared his throat. "Delivery of assorted 'bookies'," he said. With some uncertainty, he added, "For the spreniest spren who ever sprenned at the Halls of Awkward?" 

 

The awkwardness fell again. 

 

"I guess this is the right place. Just be sensible with these. One guy I know almost choked to death on the Sadeas one."

 

More chocolate shavings fluttered in the air as the box thudded to the ground and the figure disappeared with a faint twang. The alluring lettering on the side of the package proclaimed:

 

Try our new Lift flavor! The awesomeness is so pure you'll belch rainbows!

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Maggie jumps up right before the mysterious deliverer disappears. "The sprenniest spren to ever spren? That's me!"

She hurries to the crate so quickly that her straw hat almost comes off.

"Let's see," she mutters, taking individual bags out of the box and sniffing each one, "Lift, They do smell awesome! Elend, Ooh nerdy with a flair of leadership? Amaram . . ." Maggie grimaces, "Can someone throw these out? They smell like they've gone moldy."

After looking through the entire box, she picks up the whole thing and dumps them all onto the table. (It is a very large table.)

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    Amrynn approaches the table eagerly. "Wow! That's a large shipment of bookies!" He observed the large stack, deciphering what flavors they might be. "Scholarly, but with very strong self doubt just beneath the surface. That must be Sazed."
    Fi flitted over to the table, hovering just above the massive pile of treats. "Subtle, easy to miss, but very complex when you look closer. Hmm, probably Renarin." She muttered, "Uh-oh, this one's covered in poison. Looks like we've gotten a couple of Kabsal..."
    Amrynn tentatively tok a bit of one, ponering the taste. "It's really difficult to decipher at first, but is quite nice once you get through it. That one's definitely Spook."

Edited by Amrynn
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Sadly, the allure of delicious bookies did not have any affect on Slowswift.

He disappeared back under the pile of books.

Mistrunner sends her condolences to Slowswift who is uninterested in book-related food. Speaking of such... "MY CHOUTA!" She jumped up and ran into the kitchen, where the faint smell of burning soulcast meat hung in the air.

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"THE BOOKIES!" Mistrunner screams into the void, eyes full of sorrow and loss. A few seconds later, she shrugs and sits back. "I can go make some more, if you want. Who's up for some Alcatraz bookies? They always break, though..." she mutters as the leaps off her chair and heads into the kitchen.

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