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You Know You're a Sanderfan When...


Shardbearer

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Ok......it's bad, im open to comments and suggestions (thinking from Adolins perspective)

PLAINS SHATTERED LIKE MY HEART

Met you the other day,

Practising in my shardplate

It barely caught me, you swept me away (swept me away)

I asked you out, it all seemed great

Then your hand slapped my face

You nearly tripped on your skirt on your way out (way out)

Now I'm standing facing the stormwall and

These plain are shattered like my heart

Tunnels deep and far apart

The chasmfiends are moving through

And I can't see my way back to you

Back to you

Don’t know what I did wrong

Stormfather just plays along

And though I thought that I was strong

But it's been clear right from the start

These plains are shattered like my heart

Spreading from the epicenter like the impact

Of a whitespine's tail through my heart

Never thought I'd be attacked like that.

Edit: I actually quite like the prechorus/chorus lines I'm just rather hopeless on verses right now.

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH
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When your doctor tells you that you have anemia problems and your first thought is that you are definitely not a mistborn (because you would'nt be low on iron if you were ^^)

... you might be though. The fact that you are low on iron could mean you have been unintentionally burning it.

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When you, when you......

 

When you get stuck on NanoWrimo, find a random prompt on the internet to free-write,  and end up writing this thing :

 

(Stormlight and Mistborn spoilers probably)

 

Once upon a time there was a pink glove that Shallan had dropped even though she was busy holding her shardblade and didn’t care she still worried a little about her uncovered safehand. The Parshendi in front of her paused, staring in shock and horror at her controversial uncovering of the hand. Shallan took a Memory of the voidbringer's face, before sucking all the stormlight from the beads in his beard and disappearing into Shadesmar.

Pattern appeared beside her, head made of impossible shapes and body stiff underneath his robes, as if he were actually Plank in disguise.

"Lies……delicious lies" he murmured. Shallan sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Come on Pattern! How many times have I told you you're not allowed to eat lies!

Pattern looked at her shocked, and Shallan took a Memory of the face to later compare to the Parshendi. Pattern then hunched his cardboard shoulders , somehow managing to pull off something like the demeanour of a sad puppy with the limited and yet infiniteness of his face.

"Yes, yes I know you're hungry. Well, you can't eat lies and I need truths to progress so that my power level will be over nine thousand. Can't you like, chew grass or something?"

Pattern managed to look even sadder. Shallan realized that she was being mean. She needed to treat Pattern better. Not like her father had

-ooh was that a butterfly? In Shadesmar? What was that doing here?

Shallan dismissed her shardblade, then took Pattern by his bony elbow and went skipping down the yellow brick road that magically appeared.

So there, Shallan thought. So there Ron Weasley. You follow the spiders and I'll follow the butterfly. Chasmfiends are way scarier than nasty old Aragog anyway. And who need a flying Ford Anglia?

Shallan found herself wondering what a Ford Anglia was. She must ask Jasnah. How did she even know about it? She'd seen the man with the long face and sharp eyes hanging around again – the one who had given her hope at that Middlefest festival so long ago when her father had –

Shallan found herself in a tree, with a creature with a face like a giant moon staring at her.

"Welcome to the faraway tree!' the creature said, while Shallan had a minor panic attack, the main thought filling her mind was "What is a tree? And why is everything so green?"

Suddenly Kelsier appeared on the branch next to her.

"Mare dreamed about this," he sighed melodramatically. "Harmony knows where the mists have gone. And where she has gone with them. Oh Mare…." Kelsier stared off into the middle distance, while Shallan considered pulling rank on this strange darkeyes with the long straggly blond hair, then reconsidered. The moon-faced man looked out of his burrow in the tree trunk again.

"Hello. You look lost," he said. "That happens a lot. The top of this tree leads you to different worlds. Go up there and you'll be back home in no time."

"Ok," said Shallan, and left Kelsier, who was still as a statue and still staring out. She wondered for a moment if she poked him, would he fall out the tree, then she chided herself on being so childish. She was a radiant now. Or something like it. Too mature to go pushing grown men out of trees.

She hiked up her skirts instead, and climbed the tree. Sure enough, there was a black hole, and through it she could see the clouds and sun of shadesmar. Checking that she still had stormlight raging within her, angry at its captivity like Kaladin was, minus the heartache, Shallan stepped into Shadesmar, with Pattern following behind.

And stepped out into Newcago. The first thing she saw was a young woman with short black hair and a coat that really needed to be fixed it was in such tatters. The woman was bouncing back and forth between the buildings of steel, occasionally stopping to scrape off the side of a building and swallow it dry. What on earth was she doing? Trying to eat the city?

Suddenly Pattern screamed "LIES!" Shallan clamped her hands to her ears. Vin started and disappeared. "LIES!"

"Wow, wow, Pattern calm down," she said, but Pattern was shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. Shallan hadn't thought that spren could cry. She would have to document this, just after that piercing wail was gone from her head.

"Pattern! You're a full grown spren now! Behave!"

It had no effect. Pattern sank to the floor on his knees, screaming.

"LIES! LIES! FILTHY LIES! RECKONERS ISN"T COSMERE!"

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When you look at your course syllabus for United States History, and part of it is obscured by other papers so you can only see Unite... and you immediately read "Unite them." Because that makes so much sense for the syllabus of a course that you are already taking. :P

Also, when it is raining during practice and you yell "STORMing storm" on reflex.

Edited by Mashadar Mistborn
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I think when my niece hits the 'terrible twos' phase, I'm going to start calling her "The Everstorm"  :P

The Everstorm comes. The playdate of sorrows.

 

The love of uncles is a frigid thing, as cold and harsh as a winter storm.  Or Aunts.

 

ODIUM REIGNS. AND SHE DOES NOT WANT TO GO TO BED.

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