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Anniversary Game 7/Anonymous Game 9: From Embers, A Flame


Elbereth

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(My RP character will be Relas. She often gets distracted by ideas about how to hack magic systems.)

Odium is trying to killl all of the Shards and we need to stop him, right? Oooh! Could somebody have multiple Shards and be more powerful? That'd help with the Odium problem, and it might possibly decrease the influence of the Shard's intents which gives me an idea about how we could stop Cognitive Shadows becoming too focused on their Intents. Ah. Having multiple shards is impossible. Oh well. But what if... that'd be difficult... oh yes, back to Odium. How could we stop him? If he's about to take over, Preservation could help us stall for time while we investigate more people, but that's far in the future. Shards definitely shouldn't go to the Rosharan system, and if there are any over there now, you should excape. However, Braize is a good place for people who have information about who's on Odium's side that would make them targets to be (insofar as Braize could ever be called a "good place to be") and Roshar is a good place to stop by if you're out of Investiture. Oh, and also, Invention: could you please give me at least some of the items that you make? I really want to experiment with how different magic systems interact. (OOC: It's okay if you don't give me the items that you make, that's just what my character would say) 

Edited by Magenta Albatross
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1 hour ago, Violet Axolotl said:

The way I see it is plain and simple: Autonomy has the ability to stop Odium's kill, if the stars align. Now, if I were the big bad, Odium himself, the last thing I would want running around is a Shard that can stop my killing spree. So while I understand your reasoning, I disagree.

Survival is another matter. They might actually benefit from showing their face. Not that I would do it if I were them, but it likely wouldn't be as risky as an Autonomy claim.

I'll lay off Scorpion. I still want them to show up, as long as they stay far from me, but I dislike how Gorilla looked to obvious places to find someone to accuse. Even I thought deeper, and my IQ has been diminishing for at least ninety years!

Respectfully, what did you expect me to find beyond the obvious in the first cycle, with but a single prior post that wasn’t RP? By necessity C1 votes must be shallow, but their purpose is as much to stimulate discussion as it is to be accurate. I picked the only possible subject of discussion.

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2 minutes ago, Turquoise Gorilla said:

Respectfully, what did you expect me to find beyond the obvious in the first cycle, with but a single prior post that wasn’t RP? By necessity C1 votes must be shallow, but their purpose is as much to stimulate discussion as it is to be accurate. I picked the only possible subject of discussion.

Instead of waiting for anything else, yes. It's my viewpoint that those opposing Odium are more likely to consider and wait for the best execution option, which children of Odium would gladly take any excuse to run with a false suspicion that seems grounded, but really isn't.

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21 minutes ago, Violet Axolotl said:

Instead of waiting for anything else, yes. It's my viewpoint that those opposing Odium are more likely to consider and wait for the best execution option, which children of Odium would gladly take any excuse to run with a false suspicion that seems grounded, but really isn't.

How do you propose the village find the best target to lynch just by waiting? We have to work to find said target, which we do through creating discussion and gathering information.

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1 minute ago, Turquoise Gorilla said:

How do you propose the village find the best target to lynch just by waiting? We have to work to find said target, which we do through creating discussion and gathering information.

I see your point, though you exaggerate the emphasis I placed on waiting, making it sound like I suggested doing nothing. (Which, granted, I'm very practiced and able at doing nothing- comes with being old.) I'm not opposed to you calling out Kangaroo the way you did, like I mentioned I was wondering the same thing, but I found the vote itself hasty. Like it was begging for others to follow, which I almost did.

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7 minutes ago, Violet Axolotl said:

I see your point, though you exaggerate the emphasis I placed on waiting, making it sound like I suggested doing nothing. (Which, granted, I'm very practiced and able at doing nothing- comes with being old.) I'm not opposed to you calling out Kangaroo the way you did, like I mentioned I was wondering the same thing, but I found the vote itself hasty. Like it was begging for others to follow, which I almost did.

Are we seriously having a discussion on the efficacy of poke-votes again? Seems like every time I play a game I get to read through post after post debating the merits of voting someone off C1, or the merits of voting with little to no evidence, or what have you. Personally, I think it's just a playstyle thing. 

(I would include something about how my RP character is severely unfortunate to have ended up on Braize--which incidentally I know next to nothing about, since I don't recall what was said about it in SA off the top of my head, so apologies for any inaccuracies that appeared in my previous post--but I feel like I've said enough already.)

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2 minutes ago, Mauve Crocodile said:

Are we seriously having a discussion on the efficacy of poke-votes again? Seems like every time I play a game I get to read through post after post debating the merits of voting someone off C1, or the merits of voting with little to no evidence, or what have you. Personally, I think it's just a playstyle thing. 

Pardon, but I doubt Gorilla's vote was a poke vote. It sounded serious to me. It might just be by withered brain forgetting definitions again, but I believe what you would call a 'poke vote' is what my original distaste of Scorpion was.

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Just now, Violet Axolotl said:

Pardon, but I doubt Gorilla's vote was a poke vote. It sounded serious to me. It might just be by withered brain forgetting definitions again, but I believe what you would call a 'poke vote' is what my original distaste of Scorpion was.

Sorry if I didn't make it clear, but that was kind of my point. Gorilla provided an actual reason for their vote, which is rare indeed during the first cycle. 

Anyway, I say "poke-vote discussion" because you were arguing against hasty voting (aka poke-voting? idk the inside of my head is weird sometimes). But in my own humble and ill-informed opinion, all voting is somewhat hasty during C1, so arguing against it is futile unless you're arguing for us to just not exe anyone this Day. 

Aaaannnddd here I am getting sucked into one of the vote discussions I was just complaining about. 

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4 minutes ago, Violet Axolotl said:

Pardon, but I doubt Gorilla's vote was a poke vote. It sounded serious to me. It might just be by withered brain forgetting definitions again, but I believe what you would call a 'poke vote' is what my original distaste of Scorpion was.

It wasn’t a poke vote, in that I attempted to find some justification for the vote to see what discussion came of it. 
 

Prudence, I’d be much obliged if you could set me up with PMs with Mauve and with Violet.

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6 minutes ago, Mauve Crocodile said:

Sorry if I didn't make it clear, but that was kind of my point. Gorilla provided an actual reason for their vote, which is rare indeed during the first cycle. 

Anyway, I say "poke-vote discussion" because you were arguing against hasty voting (aka poke-voting? idk the inside of my head is weird sometimes). But in my own humble and ill-informed opinion, all voting is somewhat hasty during C1, so arguing against it is futile unless you're arguing for us to just not exe anyone this Day. 

Aaaannnddd here I am getting sucked into one of the vote discussions I was just complaining about. 

Why would I argue against poke voting if I did just that in my first spoken words? When I speak distaste of hasty votes, I mean votes like Gorilla's, in which I see no reason to reiterate my thoughts when they're recorded for all to reread. (Gotta love modern technology- back in the day we had paper and pencils.) I would think if you had been in enough poke vote discussions to be annoyed by them you would know some form of difference.

That being said, they irk me as well, so let's cut it here :P 

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Gʀᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢs, ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟs. Nᴏ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴜɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. Wʜʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴜɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ? Sᴇʀɪᴏᴜsʟʏ, ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ... Wᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ᴀs Mᴏʀᴛ?

I ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ʟɪsᴛ sᴏ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. I'ᴍ sᴜʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ɪꜰ ᴡᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜɪs ʙʏ ᴇᴀʀ.

Mᴇʟᴏɴ Dɪɴɢᴏ, ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ? Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴏɴ Kᴀɴɢᴀʀᴏᴏ's sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛs ꜰᴏʀ sʜᴀʀᴅs ᴛᴏ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ?

Edited by Amethyst Scorpion
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wpKdGJpvZvKN-noluJEk8PaeFJ3uCjiev5jRqBgULG0TQEKWq1RxNNhRhfeZLVFdVhOPSH3Z_19JWkSM5HlXFYDrc63j6ek9K8aldF77JQahQ54ynYcdO2E5dJs6MKdmqGwJI8y4

"Hi Mort! Your voice is really cool! Are you a god? Gods can't die right? You'd make a great parent! I'd make a great kid for you! And to prove it, I'll even answer your question! I don't think ANYONE should claim! That just encourages killers to strike, like the ones that killed my third set set of parents in an alley behind a theater."

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"Really, there's nothing wrong with seeing the future! It's totally not evil; just look at atium, or wait maybe that's a bad example. Uhh, uhh, uhh, how about electrum, or those fancy new birds on First of the Sun or even the Returned? Come on now, it's a totally neutral ability," Rali enthused .

"I already said I would do it, you don't need to convince me any further. This is what I want," Enoras replied, following the scientist into one of the smaller waiting rooms.

"Of course! Now just sit down on this stool here and we can get started in just a minute."

"Wait why do I need-" Enoras broke off as they saw two strangers trudge into the room hands behind their backs, each escorted by a guard. "Why are they here? I was supposed to meet Khi today and become one of Her Truthwatchers."

Rali sighed, and Enoras could almost imagine genuine remorse behind the sound. "Sadly, you've been reassigned. Something about a potential cosmere wide conflict between the Shards. You'll be required to travel between worlds, and since we haven't been able to find a way to transport spren off-system, our lord has concocted an alternative plan." With that, Rali pushed Enoras, who fell back onto the stool without resistance. The two guards withdrew silvery spikes and together they impaled their prisoners through the heart, driving the ends of the spikes through Enoras's kidneys simultaneously. The dead metalborn collapsed as Enoras screamed in agony. The guards withdrew as Rali approached bearing several pieces of chromium jewelry in one hand and a supply of chromium vials in the other.

"You know what to do with these, I trust? I do apologize for the surprise, but the process hurts more if you're expecting it."

Still wincing, Enoras got up from the stool and snatched the metalminds and put them on, then consumed the first vial of chromium flakes to begin the process of compounding. A minute later, brimming with Fortune, they finally spoke. "You will make sure nobody connects the deaths of these people to us, and compensate their families if you can."

Rali beamed. "Ooh, I see your power has already started to kick in! Well while I'm working on that, it's time to ship you off to your assignment. Your newfound abilities will tell you were to start. Just be sure to keep in contact with any on-planet representatives.Good luck! It would be such a shame if we had to waste any more lives." With that, the scientist strode out of the room, and after a moment, Enoras did too, leaving the corpses on the floor. it was time to fulfill their master's wishes, and no time could be wasted when a full scale war was brewing.

3 hours ago, Sage Kangaroo said:

Survival and Autonomy are neutral Shards, so they don't matter for the elim or village win conditions. In addition, they can't really pass to other players (no investiture that targets players), so people have no reason to kill them for their Shards either.

I think that them claiming has quite a few advantages for the village, even if it does help the elims as well. After all, neutral posts can be ignored when analyzing and village abilities wouldn't be wasted on neutrals if they claimed. I guess it essentially comes down to whether you think it's more valuable for the elims to know not to kill two players or if it's more valuable for the village to not waste time/abilities on two neutrals.

The neutrals will have a list of players that includes at least two elims and two villagers if they win which they may or may not be able to dump before dying depending on whether there's a gap cycle between winning and being taken out of the game. Since they don't have to help the village the risk of the elims killing them for claiming isn't as high as it could be, but it's not impossible.

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[OOC:

Dear Prudence, won't you set me up to play?
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day

The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful, and so are you
Dear Prudence, won't you set me up to play?

Dear Prudence, give me some PMs
Dear Prudence, set me up for spam

The wind is low, the Aviar will sing
That you are part of everything
Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?

Look around round
Look around round round
Look around

Dear Prudence, let me see you smile
Dear Prudence, like a little child
The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again
Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile?

Dear Prudence, won't you set me up to play?
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day

The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful, and so are you
Dear Prudence, won't you set me up to play?]

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3 hours ago, Mint Heron said:

Hi! Excited to see everyone here! I really need to do another read of the rules before getting too far, as I don't really know what anyone can do.

Let's get the stabbing started, shall we? Odium sure won't wait.

Scarlet Octopus for reasons.

Oh look, you matched my name's color!

Mili Rikaril ducked through the windswept crags of Braize, holding her sphere aloft. "Hello!? Anyone?!" she calls. "I was hoping to find someone on this planet, but so far, I've only been chased by forces of nature. Ah well. There's got to be friendly people somewhere here, right?"

Hopelessly oblivious Mili Rikaril is here! Also, I looove the comics. :wub:

Let's see. Rules! And whether or not to claim! 

I think it's interesting that eventually Autonomy will be able to talk to everyone! Cultivation can be very helpful and should probably use her  (okay technically any gender) ability! I guess the first cycles it's not suuuper helpful because there's no Splinters yet (ow Splinters those hurt).

Ultimate Preservation is more helpful when done during the day because then it stops Odium from completing an action! 

Mercy's Investing is kinda dangerous. It stops us from completing our exe, which is the main thing we control.

Also, sorry, I realize that my analysis is kind of obvious. :rolleyes:

Oh and PMs! Prudence, I'd love to talk (as little as I may actually end up talking)! :D In fact, I'm thinking Shadesmar might be nice because of PMs!

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18 minutes ago, Elbereth said:

For the half of the player list that hasn't asked yet: yes, you can follow threads / change your notification preferences however you like. Stop asking. :P

[OOC: What is this divine voice speaking profoundly beautiful truths? A Elbereth Gilthoniel! Truly a star shines on the hour of our meeting.]

[MOAR OOC: I'm actually playing Tenth of the Dusk. Request you do not RP Kaikoa as that is the name of his Aviar and I don't really want to be trapped into having to RP this game as a chicken bounty hunter, as amusing as that might be. I know y'all are trolls, as are the Almighty GMs, but please please please spare me, have mercy on me, it's Christmas.]

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8 hours ago, Charcoal Hyena said:

Keteking your greetings, I make words fit the pattern poorly, patterning the unfit wordmaker, I greet you ketekfully.

Aren't keteks supposed to have 5 sections to them? 

--

This whole "bead fishing" thing hadn't worked out so far. He had gotten excited for a bit, but whatever was tugging on his line turned out to be some spren playing some sort of practical joke. 

Remy ignored his fishing pole as he left the sea. probably no need for it anymore. 

--

Remy ran back to the fishing pole. no telling whether it might be useful for something, his parents taught him better than to waste things. if they-

who were his parents? He had a vague feeling of...what was that...disappointment? disappointment from his parents. disappointment in him. 

He shrugged it off. not like it matters now, right? Couldn't even remember who his parents were. Or who he really was. All he had was his name, which...didn't do him much good. most of the people around weren't even able to pronounce his name very well. 

His name...and a feeling. something was pulling at him, and he needed to figure out what it was. 

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24 minutes ago, Opal Lion said:

Aren't keteks supposed to have 5 sections to them? 

Incompetence evident, failing poet, I weep, my poetry fails, evidently incompetent.

To Prudence, in your infinite wisdom, I ask that you give me private messages with every player in the game, make your choice.
Perhaps this is wise, perhaps this is folly, but private conversations make me rejoice.


Today I attempt something strange.
Prose poetry is not really that deranged,
But still I think it conjures up that state.


This is what it means to be Odium:
You hate. It is what you are, but you cannot help it. You rage at the unfairness of the fate you were given. You plot, you scheme, you kill. 
You see others with similar powers, similar fragments of the one you called Adonalsium, and you hate. Green eyes war with raging blood and you lovelongloathe your friendsfoesfears, but you lovelongloathe having them gone more.
You break them. Maybe you meant it, maybe you didn’t, but they are Splintered nonetheless. The Vessels lie Shattered at your feet, and you know you can kill more.
You are bound, trapped in a star system when before you had a galaxy. It’s suffocating. You hate it. You hate everything. Honor stands before you, so you strike him down. Tanavast falls, and you are still trapped. You scream. You rage. You hate.
The Shards burn bright in your eyes, but the mortals do not. You bring your power to bear on them, and they pass through it as though you are nothing. You hate that. You can fix that.

This is what it means to be chosen by Odium:
You do not ask for this, or maybe you do, but either way, He does not need your consent to make you His. He holds His Investiture to your lips and dares you not to swallow.
The orb slides down your throat with ease, and you want nothing more than to throw it up. It burns, and Odium smiles at you with a mouth made of fire. (In the distant future, a Fused holds a sphere to a man and names him Vyre.) You do not want this. You hate this. You hate Odium. You hate.
Mortals burn bright in your eyes. The Shards are like the sun, but your fellow entities of Death resemble flickering candles. If you reach out, you can just barely snuff them out. 
It was an accident, the first time, or maybe it wasn’t, but regardless, the bodies hit the floor, and you hate. You will never stop hating. It burns and takes and never stops. You hate and hate and never stop.

This is what it means to be Cultivation:
You are the gardener, the caretaker, the hand that bends nature. The difference between Change and Cultivation is a subtle one, but you know it well. Change is not anathema, but the two are like wine and water. Similar, but fundamentally different in irreconcilable ways. 
Change is the sea in storm, is the forest in bloom, is the crumbling ruin of a place abandoned. It is thoughtless, mindless, unplanned. Cultivation is the tunnel through the mountains, is the ravages of war, is the winding path through a garden. It is guided by an unseen hand.
You break your word as soon as you make it, with your paramour by your side as you sculpt Roshar from the state your God left it in. It is beautiful, the guidance you offer to the land, the growth that blooms beneath your power
Your garden is magnificent. Whether you grow roses or thorns, it is still guided by your careful hand. You control all the variables and fix things into place, making everything work as you intend. You weave power into cracks in a facsimile of kintsugi, and everything comes together perfectly.
Despite all the Change you bring, you remain a constant in the tumultuous sea. Your will, your strength, your power bringing the mad world to bear. If you try, you can solidify your words into being, ensuring that you are not swayed, never swayed. 
Your pawns march with a fragment of your gift. They dance and weave through life, darkening the clarity of futuresight and acting as agents of chaos despite their perfect order. You grow their souls in the way that you wantneedcrave and laugh as everything falls into place.

This is what it means to be chosen by Cultivation:
You sought Her out, or maybe you didn’t, but either way, some part of you wanted to change. You wanted to be something else, something other than what you were, and She gave it to you. She just gave you something else too.
You whisper to the world, and the world whispers back, soft murmurs of acknowledgement. Your words do not matter. Your actions do not matter. Only what you tell the world, your new God. You bow before the whims of fate and let the currents drag you under.

This is what it means to be Preservation:
Change is your anathema. Things should stay the same. Things have to stay the same. That is the only way. All other options are disgusting. Everything has to stay the same. You make things stay the same.
You break your word and the tenuous agreement you have crafted (things don’t stay the same, why can’t they stay the same?) to ensure things will stay the same. You stop everything to ensure things will stay the same. Time passes, people die, but the archetypes remain the same. (It’s not enough)
You get better. You make the people stop. Time passes, but life does not go on. You can’t hold it for very long, but it soothes the anguish in your soul, for a time. You will get better. Eventually, you will keep the galaxy–nay, the universe the same. It will all be the same.

This is what it means to be chosen by Preservation:
You did not ask for this. It is the nature of life to change, to move, to grow, and with Preservation’s touch, you do not. You are frozen in stasis, unable to act or be acted upon. You do not change, you do not move, you do not grow. Without these things, are you truly alive? Are you truly a thing at all?
You are nothing. You are empty. You are void. It would sting your soul if you could be affected at all. Change is life is change is life, and without it, you are meaningless. You do not live. You do not die. For some, this would be a blessing. For you, who is trapped in this mortal coil, it is hell.

This is what it means to be Ruin:
Your very presence makes the world crumble. You see beauties, wonders, glories, and you just want to touch them and they topple. Maybe you wanted them to, maybe you didn’t, but the pieces of once-magnificent things litter the floor, and you watch the world fall.
Everything you touch turns to dust, and you learn to like it. The universe itself is crumbling in your presence, so you accelerate the process. It’s beautiful (you thinkhopewantbelieve). You travel places, see the best of things before you take them away. You exist, and the world falls apart.
You are not so powerful (or perhaps so cruel) as to kill the inhabitants of the worlds you destroy. They flee and fly and fall apart as they find themselves elsewhere. They are stunned, unable to act in their stupor brought on by awe and horror. You smile, because otherwise you’d have to weep, and monsters don’t cry.

This is what it means to be chosen by Ruin:
You know intimately what it means to be destroyed. Ruin cradled you, whispering sweet nothings into your ears, and your willpower crumbled along with the walls of your mind. You are broken. You are cracked. You are mad.
He speaks to you, telling you to kill. He wants you to kill. It is why He chose you, after all. He needs you. He wants you. He likes you. (Maybe so, or maybe He just thinks you’re useful, and you want Him to stay, to want you, to need you). You hate Him when He’s here, but miss Him when He’s gone. 
You kill for Him. Of course you do. You hate Him and love Him and need Him. You’d kill for Him. You’d die for Him. You’d do anything to keep Him here. He leaves you. Of course He does. You mourn Him and loathe Him and wish He’d come back. He never does. He abandons useless tools, after all. You miss Him, even as you die.


I shall return on the morrow with words of witty banter
But as of now, I long for sleep, that darling sweet enchanter.
I bid the lot of you adieu and hope to see you all again.
In a place beyond all mortal ken.
Good night.
Sleep tight.
They bite.

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A foreign world, again. Tenth of the Dusk wondered if he would ever get used to the feeling of a different sun on his skin.

He had the strangest feeling it had all happened before, and now it was happening all over again. The light, the trees. Ein Fehler in der Matrix.

He'd slept through most of it. It was a litany of watching, and waiting, but his quarry had gotten away. Kaikoa chirped on his shoulder and he fed her some nuts, absently. 

Or he was getting soft. Sometimes, Tenth wondered if he would survive a journey to even small Sori. But such thoughts were foolishness. He'd given up the life of a trapper for the trappings of the homeisles and he knew some of the others considered him a traitor.

He had turned away from the Pantheon, from the homeisles, from the homeworld. And now he was here, where the people talked all the time, in their grand robes, and Tenth supposed it was right: that Third of the Sky was right, too; that he'd never had the heart of a trapper, and that you could take the trapper from the Pantheon but you couldn't take the Pantheon from the trapper. Here, the traps were of words rather than of vines, of men rather than of creatures.

The spanreed brought word from the other worlds. Already there was tentative disagreement. Already there were rumours of Shards walking amongst them. Of hidden ones with differing intents. Tenth chewed on a nut himself. He did not like that thought. He was not here to get wound up in the quarrels of Shards or Silverlight or secret groups. He was here tracking his quarry. He had been promised a healthy sum of spheres for an Alethi man with the birds. He had been promised the man would be a difficult quarry: one of the most dangerous, most canny targets Tenth had ever hunted.

And so Tenth had agreed. He did not trust Ghostbloods—a wise man did not trust another, on the Pantheon, and the Ghostbloods were as deepwalkers, shadows beneath the surface—but they were good for their word. Enough spheres he could afford an upgrade of his equipment. A hundredweight of nuts for Kaikoa. A quarry worthy of the hunt. He'd been turning in laughably clumsy targets for Scadrian boxings of late, and something in him itched. He had not become a bounty hunter to become soft. This much was true.

He gave one last glance to the spanreed and shook his head. Vatorr Maj [OOC: Saffron Iguana]—something about that one...

Tenth left, and went to the market.

Edited by Azure Mouse
El: as spoken.
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Really amazing poems, Hyena. Pity they're not rule specific. I'll enjoy them all the same.

I hope Lion is actually going Ratatouille. That'd be fantastic, and warm my old soul right down to my arthritis'd toes.

Prudence, along with my request for Sapphire Elephant, I ask for one with Coral Swan. Much appreciated and thank you.

While I'm here, sitting around this fire... you folks deserve a story. My story, one you never asked for but will get all the same. Let's see...


It all started many, many years ago. I'm not going to calculate each second or we'd be here for eons, but I personally doubt there's more than, say, sixteen of you folks older than me. What also doesn't matter is which world I was born- They're all the same once the cosmere comes into play. You can rest easy knowing it wasn't Braize or Ashyn; I'm not one of those freaks. Perhaps I don't say because I can't- once you've lived as long as me you have so many memories you can't store them anymore.

I was born Garrison Elitrude Morgasian Brockett, from a long line of Brocketts, dating back to before the whole Shattering mess. My family has records of Adonalsium's reign, and of course I'm not going to share them. 'The more you know' is simply hogwash. I have pieces of information that would shake your realities, burn your brain cells, bubble and burst your veins until blood oozes from every pore. Depending on where you're from, of course. But I digress.

As hard as it is to believe, I wasn't always this old. Sometimes I think I was born sixty, but as far as I know I was born zero like any other man. My parents were decently well known merchants and travellers, and I never had a true home. Like Ostrich, in a way, but perhaps less tragic. At least until my very own parents were killed, our moneybox stolen. I'm confident the killer would have slain me had I not been running the streets in a moment of rebellion. When I returned my mind was forever scarred with the image of their broken bodies. That is one memory that will not be pushed to the brink.

That night, I took what left we had not stolen and sold it for a fraction of its value, living off scraps until I was about ten. Or fifteen. You should know by now my memory isn't the best. Regardless, I was eventually hired at a local bakery, provoking what I like to call my pastry phase- those were the days. Rolling dough, snitching cream from the stock out back... By now, I was getting a reputation. But it wasn't for baking.

You see, along with my pastry phase I had decided to try a few alley games. Those shell chance ones, and cards, and things like that. I would bet my wages, and I would lose. But I'd always come back. Gambling cheaters took advantage of my glossed-over eyes. Hence you can see why I then took up alcoholism, drinking in my own pity. I never got as bad as Al is, dear friend Al, though I do believe I came close.

Then, (or before, I can't recall the exact order of things) I met a girl. And- *Yawn*

That's all for now. My life story will continue later. I can tell you're all just hooked


One more thing: Some of you refer to things you say as 'OOC'. In all my years I don't think I've ever come across such an abbreviation- though that beggar on the corner there told me it meant 'out of character'. Such a statement makes little sense to a brain such as mine- are some of you fakes, beyond the name? Why, I would be very disappointed if I were but a character. Such a backstory as mine can be only be fact.

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Hello.

I am Eris.

I am still reading the rules and working out how this game works. Be kind.

It seems Prudence is popular. An envious position. To know who is speaking with whom. To control that. Try to survive a while. You will be useful. 

On that note. I would enjoy being granted pms. Who you put me with is up to your discretion. Surprise me. 

I will return when rules are comprehended.

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Pardon my *cough* cough. I seemed to have developed something nasty overnight.

Back in my day, people talked more. I'd expected *cough* more than one comment after my sleep. @Melon Dingo@Pearl Chameleon, you've yet to show up at all! And on top of that, hardly any *cough* discussion has sprung forth and we're past halfway! Speaking of which- I've heard that those called @little wilson and @Elbereth are in charge here- can one of you kindly supply a tally of the *cough* current votes?

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[OOC: I logged out of my normal account to start this game and didn't expect to log back in until after the game, but I might just have to do that to upvote all of this RP - especially the poets, you guys are amazing.]

I couldn't figure out how to put this into my RP, but Prudence, I'd like some one-on-one PM's as well, at your discretion.


"Turnips! Get yer turnips here!"

Mendra passed the turnip lady, holding a bunch of withered turnips aloft in one hand, and looked at the rest of the market. The market was fine, she supposed, but it lacked a certain exotic quality, not at all like the Court of Gods at T'Telir. She hummed, softly, as she wondered through the market, looking for something, anything, that would be satisfactory.

Because Mendra had a mission. Mendra had always had a knack for making meals out of the most unusual of the ingredients, but now she wanted to push those skills to her limits. She was going to make a new meal, unlike anything the Cosmere had seen before, by gathering all of the most interesting and exotic foods from every far flung corner of the Cosmere. But to do that, she'd need to find something more interesting than turnips.

She wandered through the market, trying to find anything that might fit her needs, and found nothing. It was only as she was turning to go, at the edge of the market, that she noticed a small tent, with a dark interior, that lodged itself oddly between two stalls. If it was meant to be a market stall, it was the most foreboding and unappealing one she'd ever seen in her life.

Perfect. With a smile, she lifted up one of the tent flaps, peering into the dim interior, and stepped inside.

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