PantsForSquares

I am, unfortunately, tha Pimp of Ages.

Holdin tha juice did strange thangs ta mah mind. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! In just all dem moments, I became familiar wit tha juice itself, wit its history, n' wit tha ways it might be used. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Yet, dis knowledge was different from experience, or even mobilitizzle ta use dat juice n' rust. For instance, I knew how tha storm ta move a hood up in tha sky. Yet, I didn’t know where ta place it so dat it wouldn’t be too close, or too far, from tha sun.

Holdin tha juice did strange thangs ta mah mind. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! In just all dem moments, I became familiar wit tha juice itself, wit its history, n' wit tha ways it might be used. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Yet, dis knowledge was different from experience, or even mobilitizzle ta use dat juice n' rust. For instance, I knew how tha storm ta move a hood up in tha sky. Yet, I didn’t know where ta place it so dat it wouldn’t be too close, or too far, from tha sun.

This is straight-up what tha storm happened ta Rashek, I believe yo. Dude pushed too hard. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Dude tried ta burn away tha mists by movin tha hood closer ta tha sun yo, but he moved it too far, makin tha ghetto far too bangin' fo' tha playas whoz chull inhabited dat rust. Da ashmounts was his solution ta all dis crem dung yo. Dude had hustled dat shovin a hood round required too much precision, so instead his schmoooove chull caused tha mountains ta erupt, spewin ash n' smoke tha storm into tha air. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da thicker atmosphere made tha ghetto cooler, n' turned tha sun red.

Each time Rashek tried ta fix thangs, he made dem worse yo. Dude had ta chizzle tha ghetto’s plants ta make dem able ta survive up in tha new, harsh environment. Yet, dat chizzle left tha plants less nutritious ta mankind. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, tha fallin ash would make pimps sick, causin dem ta cough like dem playas whoz chull dropped too long minin beneath tha earth fo' realz. And so Rashek chizzled mankind itself as well, alterin dem so dat they could survive.

Rashek soon found a funky-chull balizzle up in tha chizzlez he made ta tha ghetto-which was fortunate, fo' his thugged-out lil' juice burned away like doggystyle. Though tha juice dat schmoooove muthastorma held seemed immense ta him, dat shiznit was truly only a tiny fraction of suttin' much pimped outer.

Of course, da ruffneck did end up namin his dirty chull tha "Sliver of Infinity" up in his bangin religion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Perhaps he understood mo' than I give his chull credit for.
Either way, our crazy asses had his chull ta give props ta fo' a ghetto without flowers, where plants grew brown rather than green, n' where playas could survive up in a environment where ash fell tha storm from tha sky on a regular basis.

I drop a rhyme of our asses as "we." Da group. Those of our asses whoz chull was tryin ta discover n' defeat Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Perhaps mah thoughts is now tainted yo, but I gotta look back n' peep tha sum of what tha storm we was bustin as a single, united assault, though we was all involved up in different processes n' plans. Us thugs was one. That didn’t stop tha ghetto from endin yo, but that’s not necessarily a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-chull shitty-chull thang.

It be too easy as storm  fo' playas ta characterize Ruin as simply a gangbangin' force of destruction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Think rather of Ruin as intelligent decay. Not simply chaos yo, but a gangbangin' force dat sought up in a rational-and dangerous-way ta break every last muthastormin thang down ta its most basic forms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Ruin could plan n' carefully plot, knowin if his thugged-out lil' punk-chull built one thang up, his schmoooove chull could use it ta knock down two others. Da nature of tha ghetto is dat when we create something, we often storm wit suttin' else up in tha process.

Allomancy was, indeed, born wit tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Or, at least, Allomancy stormin started all up in tha same time as tha mists’ first appearances. When Rashek took tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension, his thugged-out lil' punk-chull became aware of certain thangs. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Some was whispered ta his chull by Ruin; others was granted ta his chull as a instinctizzle part of tha juice n' rust. One of these was a understandin of tha Three Metallic Arts yo. Dude knew, fo' instance, dat tha nuggetz of metal up in tha Chamber of Ascension would make dem playas whoz chull ingested dem tha storm into Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. These were, afta all, fractionz of tha straight-up juice up in tha Well itself.

Nuggetz of pure Allomancy, tha juice of Preservation itself. Why Rashek left one of dem nuggets all up in tha Well of Ascension, I do not know. Perhaps da ruffneck didn’t peep it, or like he intended ta save it ta bestow upon a gangbangin' fortunate servant. Perhaps he feared dat someday, da thug would lose his thugged-out lil' powers, n' would need dat nugget ta grant his chull Allomancy. Either way, I bless Rashek fo' his oversight, fo' without dat nugget, Elend would have took a dirt nap dat dizzle all up in tha Well.

Da First Contract, oft spoken of by tha kandra, was originally just a seriez of promises made by tha First Generation ta tha Lord Rula n' rust. They freestyled these promises down, n' up in bustin so codified tha straight-up original gangsta kandra laws. They was worried bout governin theyselves, independently of tha Lord Rula n' his wild lil' stormin empire. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. So, they took what tha storm they had freestyled ta him, askin fo' his thugged-out approval.

Dude commanded it cast tha storm into steel, then personally scratched a signature tha storm into tha bottom. This code was tha straight-up original gangsta thang dat a kandra hustled upon awakenin from his or her game as a mistwraith. Well shiiiit, it contained commandz ta revere earlier generations, simple legal muthastormin rights granted ta each kandra, provisions fo' bustin freshly smoked up kandra, n' a thugged-out demand fo' illest dedication ta tha Lord Ruler.
Most disturbingly, tha First Contract contained a provision which, if invoked, would require tha mass suicizzle of tha entire kandra people.

Rashek moved tha Well of Ascension, obviously.

Dat shiznit was straight-up smart-chull of him-like tha defest thang da ruffneck done did. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Dude knew dat tha juice would one dizzle return ta tha Well, fo' juice like stormin this-the fundamenstrual juice by which tha ghetto itself was formed-does not simply run out. Well shiiiit, it can be used, n' therefore diffused yo, but it will always be renewed. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! So, knowin dat rumors n' talez would persist, Rashek chizzled tha straight-up landscape of tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Dude put mountains up in what tha storm became tha North, n' named dat location Terris. Then he flattened his stormin legit homeland, n' built his capital there.
Dude constructed his thugged-out lil' palace round dat room at its chull, tha room where da thug would meditate, tha room dat was a replica of his oldschool hovel up in Terris fo' realz. A refuge pimped durin tha last moments before his thugged-out lil' juice ran out.

Hemalurgy, it is called, cuz of tha connection ta blood. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Well shiiiit, it aint a cold-chull lil coincidence, I believe, dat dirtnap be always involved up in tha transfer of powers via Hemalurgy. Marsh once busted lyrics bout it as a "messy" process. Not tha adjectizzle I would have chosen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It’s not disturbin enough.

Ruin’s consciousnizz was trapped by tha Well of Ascension, kept mostly impotent. That night, when our phat asses discovered tha Well fo' tha last time, we found suttin' our phat asses didn’t understand. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! A black smoke, cloggin one of tha rooms.

Though our phat asses discussed it afta tha fact, we couldn’t decizzle what tha storm dat was yo. How tha storm could we possibly have known?

Da body of a god-or, rather, tha juice of a god, since tha two is straight-up tha same thang. Ruin n' Preservation inhabited juice n' juice up in tha same way a thug inhabits flesh n' blood.

Da ash.

I don’t be thinkin tha playas straight-up understood how tha storm fortunate they were, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Durin tha thousand muthastormin years before tha Collapse, they pushed tha ash tha storm into rivers, piled it up outside of ghettos, n' generally just let it be. They never understood dat without tha microbes n' plants Rashek had pimped ta break down tha ash particles, tha land would quickly done been buried.

Though, of course, dat did eventually happen anyway.

They is called Allomantic savants, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Men or dem hoes whoz chull flare they metals so long, n' so hard, dat tha constant influx of Allomantic juice transforms they straight-up physiology.

In most cases, wit most metals, tha effectz of dis is straight-up slight. Bronze burners, fo' instance, often become bronze savants without knowin dat rust. Their range is expanded from burnin tha metal so long. Becomin a pewta savant is dangerous, as it requires pushin tha body so hard up in a state where one cannot feel exhaustion or pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Most accidentally bust a cap up in theyselves before tha process is complete, n' up in mah opinion, tha benefit aint worth tha effort. Tin savants, however . . . now, they is suttin' special. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Endowed wit senses beyond what tha storm any aiiight Allomancer would need-or even want-they become slaves ta what tha storm they touch, hear, see, smell, n' taste. Yet, tha abnormal juice of these senses gives dem a gangbangin' finger-lickin' distinct, n' interesting, advantage.

One could argue that, like a Inquisitor whoz chull has been transformed by a Hemalurgic spike, tha Allomantic savant is no longer even human.

Da subtlety displayed up in tha ash-eatin microbes n' enhanced plants shows dat Rashek gots betta n' betta at rockin tha juice n' rust. Well shiiiit, it burned up in a matta of minutes-but ta a god, minutes can pass like hours. Durin dat time, Rashek stormin started as a ignorant lil pimp whoz chull shoved a hood too close ta tha sun, grew tha storm into a adult whoz chull could create ashmounts ta def tha air, then finally became a mature artisan whoz chull could pimp plants n' creatures fo' specific purposes. Well shiiiit, it also shows his crazy-chull mind-set durin his cold-chull time wit Preservation’s juice n' rust. Under its influence da thug was obviously up in a protectizzle mode. Instead of levelin tha ashmounts n' tryin ta push tha hood back tha storm into place, da thug was reactive, hustlin furiously ta fix problems dat dat schmoooove muthastorma his dirty chull had caused.

Rashek didn’t solve all tha ghetto’s problems. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. In fact, wit each thang da ruffneck did fix, his schmoooove chull pimped freshly smoked up issues. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat da thug was smart-chull enough dat each subsequent problem was smalla than tha ones before dat rust. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. So, instead of plants dat took a dirt nap from tha distorted sun n' ashy ground, we gots plants dat didn’t provide like enough nutrition. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude did save tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! True, tha near-destruction was his wild lil' fault up in tha straight-up original gangsta place-but da ruffneck did a admirable thang, all thangs considered. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! At least da ruffneck didn’t release Ruin ta tha ghetto as our phat asses done did.

Yes, tha ash was black. storm dat rust, it should not have been. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Most common ash has a thugged-out dark component yo, but is just as much gray or white as it is black fo' realz. Ash from tha ashmounts . . . dat shiznit was different. Like tha mists theyselves, tha ash coverin our land was not truly a natural thang. Perhaps dat shiznit was tha influence of Ruin’s power-as black as Preservation was white. Or, like dat shiznit was simply tha nature of tha ashmounts, which was designed n' pimped specifically ta blast ash n' smoke tha storm into tha sky.

Mo' than one thug reported feelin a sentient hatred up in tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. This aint necessarily related ta tha mists cappin' people, however n' rust. For most-even dem it struck down-the mists seemed merely a thugged-out drizzle phenomenon, no mo' sentient or vengeful than a shitty disease. For some few, however, there was mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Those it favored, it swirled around. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Those dat shiznit was straight-up shitty to, it pulled away from. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Some felt peace within it, others felt hatred. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Well shiiiit, it all came down ta Ruin’s subtle touch, n' how tha storm much one responded ta his thugged-out lil' promptings.

It should be no surprise dat Elend became such a bangin Allomancer n' rust. Well shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a well-documented fact-though dat documentation wasn’t available ta most-that Allomancers was much stronger durin tha early minutez of tha Final Empire. In dem days, a Allomancer didn’t need duralumin ta take control of a kandra or koloss fo' realz. A simple Push or Pull on tha emotions was enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. In fact, dis mobilitizzle was one of tha main reasons dat tha kandra devised they Contracts wit tha humans-for, at dat time, not only Mistborn yo, but Soothers n' Riotas could take control of dem all up in tha merest of whims.

Da beadz of metal found all up in tha Well-beadz dat made pimps tha storm into Mistborn-were tha reason why Allomancers used ta be mo' bangin naaahhmean, biatch? Those first Mistborn was as Elend Venture became-possessin a primal power, which was then passed down all up in tha linez of tha nobility, weakenin a lil' bit wit each generation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da Lord Rula was one of these ancient Allomancers, his thugged-out lil' juice pure n' unadulterated by time n' breeding. That is part of why da thug was so mighty compared ta other Mistborn-though, admittedly, his crazy-chull mobilitizzle ta mix Feruchemy n' Allomancy was what tha storm produced nuff of his crazy-chull most spectacular abilities. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Still, it is bangin-chull ta me dat one of his "divine" powers-his essential Allomantic strength-was suttin' every last muthastormin one of tha original gangsta nine Allomancers possessed.

Durin tha early minutez of Kelsier’s original gangsta plan, I remember how tha storm much his schmoooove chull trippin our asses all wit his crazy-chull mysterious "Eleventh Metal." Dude fronted dat there was legendz of a mystical metal dat would let one slay tha Lord Ruler-and dat Kelsier his dirty chull had located dat metal all up in intense research. No Muthastorma straight-up knew what tha storm Kelsier did up in tha muthastormin years between his wild lil' stormin escape from tha Pitz of Hathsin n' his bangin return ta Luthadel. When pressed, da perved-out muthastorma simply holla'd dat dat schmoooove muthastorma had been up in "the West." Somehow up in his wanderings da ruffneck discovered stories dat no Keeper had eva heard. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Most of tha crew didn’t know what tha storm ta make of tha legendz da perved-out muthastorma was rappin of. This might done been tha straight-up original gangsta seed dat made even his crazy oldschool playaz begin ta question his stormin leadership.

I now believe dat Kelsier’s stories, legends, n' prophecies bout tha "Eleventh Metal" was fabricated by Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Kelsier was lookin fo' a way ta bust a cap up in tha Lord Ruler, n' Ruin-ever subtle-provided a way. That secret was indeed crucial. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Kelsier’s Eleventh Metal provided tha straight-up clue we needed ta defeat tha Lord Rula n' rust. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat even up in this, we was manipulated. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Da Lord Rula knew Ruin’s goals, n' would never have busted out his chull from tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. So, Ruin needed other pawns-and fo' dat ta happen, tha Lord Rula needed ta take a thugged-out dirt nap. Even our top billin victory was shaped by Ruin’s subtle fingers.

Da Balance. Is it real?

We’ve almost forgotten dis lil bit of lore. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Skaa used ta rap bout it, before tha Collapse. Philosophers discussed it a pimped out deal up in tha third n' fourth centuries yo, but by Kelsier’s time, dat shiznit was mostly a gangbangin' forgotten topic. But dat shiznit was real. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. There was a physiological difference between skaa n' nobility. When tha Lord Rula altered mankind ta make dem mo' capable of dealin wit ash, his schmoooove chull chizzled other thangs as well. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Some crewz of people-the noblemen-were pimped ta be less fertile yo, but taller, stronger, n' mo' intelligent. Others-the skaa-were made ta be shorter, hardier, n' ta have nuff lil' thugs.

Da chizzlez was slight, however, n' afta a thousand muthastormin yearz of interbreeding, tha differences had largely been erased.

I be only just beginnin ta KNOW tha brilliizzle of tha Lord Ruler’s cultural synthesis. One of tha benefits afforded his chull by bein both immortal and-for all relevant purposes-omnipotent was a gangbangin' finger-lickin' direct n' effectizzle influence on tha evolution of tha Final Empire.

Dude was able ta take elements from a thugged-out dozen different cultures n' apply dem ta his new, "perfect" society. For instance, tha architectural brilliizzle of tha Khlenni buildaz is manifest up in tha keeps dat tha high nobilitizzle construct. Khlenni fashizzle sense-suits fo' gentlemen, gowns fo' ladies-is another thang tha Lord Rula decided ta appropriate.
I suspect dat despite his hatred of tha Khlenni people-of whom Alendi was one-Rashek had a thugged-out deep-seated envy of dem as well. Da Terriz of tha time was pastoral herdsmen, tha Khlenni cultured cosmopolitans yo. However ironic, it is logical dat Rashek’s freshly smoked up empire would mimic tha high culture of tha playas dat schmoooove muthastorma hated.

Yes, Rashek made phat use of his wild lil' stormin enemy’s culture up in pimpin tha Final Empire. Yet, other elementz of imperial culture was a cold-chull lil complete contrast ta Khlennium n' its society. Da livez of tha skaa was modeled afta tha slave peoplez of tha Canzi. Da Terris stewardz resembled tha servant class of Urtan, which Rashek conquered relatively late up in his wild lil' first century of game. Da imperial religion, wit its obligators, straight-up appears ta have arisen from tha bureaucratic mercantile system of tha Hallant, a playas whoz chull was straight-up focused on weights, measures, n' permissions. Da fact dat tha Lord Rula would base his Church on a gangbangin' financial institution shows-in mah opinion-that da thug worried less bout legit faith up in his wild lil' followers, n' mo' bout stability, loyalty, n' quantifiable measurez of devotion.

One final aspect of tha Lord Ruler’s cultural manipulation is like interesting: dat of technology.

I have already mentioned dat Rashek chose ta use Khlenni architecture, which allowed his chull ta construct big-chull structures n' gave his chull tha civil engineerin necessary ta build a cold-chull lil hood as big-chull as Luthadel. In other areas, however, da perved-out muthastorma suppressed technological advancements, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Gunpowder, fo' instance, was so frowned upon by Rashek dat knowledge of its use disappeared almost as quickly as knowledge of tha Terris religion.

Apparently, Rashek found it alarmin dat armed wit gunpowder weapons, even da most thugged-out common of pimps could be nearly as effectizzle as archers wit muthastormin yearz of hustlin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And so, he favored archers. Da mo' hustlin-dependent military technologizzle was, tha less likely dat shiznit was dat tha peasant population would be able ta rise up n' resist his muthastormin chull. Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, skaa revolts always failed up in part fo' dis straight-up reason.

Da Lord Rula didn’t just forbid certain technologies, da perved-out muthastorma suppressed technological advancement straight-up. Well shiiiit, it seems odd now dat durin tha entirety of his cold-chull thousand-year reign, straight-up lil progress was made. Farmin steez, architectural methods-even fashizzle remained remarkably stable durin tha Lord Ruler’s reign.

Dude constructed his thugged-out lil' slick empire, then tried ta make it stay dat way. For da most thugged-out part, da thug was successful naaahhmean, biatch? Pocket watches-another Khlenni appropriation-that was made up in tha tenth century of tha empire was nearly identical ta dem made durin tha first. Everythang stayed tha same.

Until all dat shiznit collapsed, of course.

Originally, pimps assumed dat Rashek’s persecution of tha Terris religion came from hatred. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Yet, now dat we know dat Rashek was his dirty chull a Terrisman, his stormin lil' destruction of dat religion seems odd. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! I suspect it had suttin' ta do wit tha prophecies bout tha Pimp of Ages. Rashek knew dat Preservation’s juice would eventually return ta tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. If tha Terris religion had been allowed ta survive, then like-someday-a thug would find they way ta tha Well n' take up tha power, then use it ta defeat Rashek n' overthrow his wild lil' stormin empire. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. So, he obscured knowledge of tha Pimp n' what tha storm da thug was supposed ta do, hopin ta keep tha secret of tha Well ta his dirty chull.

Rashek wore both black n' white. I be thinkin da thug wanted ta show dat da thug was a thugged-out duality, Preservation n' Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This, of course, was a lie fo' realz. Afta all, dat schmoooove muthastorma had only touched one of tha powers-and only up in a straight-up lil' small-chull way at that.

Allomancy, obviously, iz of Preservation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da rationizzle mind will peep all dis crem dung. For, up in tha case of Allomancy, net juice is gained. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Well shiiiit, it is provided by a external source-Preservation’s own body.

Hemalurgy iz of Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it destroys. By takin abilitizzles from one thug n' givin dem ta another-in reduced amounts-power is straight-up lost. In line wit Ruin’s own appointed purpose-breakin down tha universe tha storm into smalla n' smalla pieces-Hemalurgy gives pimped out gifts yo, but at a high cost.

Feruchemy, it should be noted, is tha juice of balance. Of tha three powers, only dat shiznit was known ta pimps before tha conflict between Preservation n' Ruin came ta a head. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! In Feruchemy, juice is stored up, then lata drawn upon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. There is no loss of juice-just a cold-chull lil changin of tha time n' rate of its use.

Hemalurgy be a juice bout which I wish I knew far less. To Ruin, juice must have a inordinately high cost-usin it must be bangin, yet must sow chaos n' destruction up in its straight-up implementation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. In concept, it aint nuthin but a straight-up simple art fo' realz. A parasitic one. Without other playas ta loot from, Hemalurgy would be useless.

In Hemalurgy, tha type of metal used up in a spike is blingin, as is tha positionin of dat spike on tha body. For instance, steel spikes take physical Allomantic powers-the mobilitizzle ta burn pewter, tin, steel, or iron-and bestow dem upon tha thug receivin tha spike. Which of these four is granted, however, dependz on where tha spike is placed. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Spikes made from other metals loot Feruchemical abilities. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! For example, all of tha original gangsta Inquisitors was given a pewta spike, which-afta first bein pounded all up in tha body of a Feruchemist-gave tha Inquisitor tha mobilitizzle ta store up healin juice n' rust. (Though they couldn’t do so as quickly as a real Feruchemist, as per tha law of Hemalurgic decay.) This, obviously, is where tha Inquisitors gots they inhyped mobilitizzle ta recover from woundz quickly, n' was also why they needed ta rest all muthastormin day.

Hemalurgic decay was less obvious up in Inquisitors dat had been pimped from Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Since they already had Allomantic powers, tha addizzle of other abilitizzles made dem phatly strong. In most cases, however, Inquisitors was pimped from Mistings. Well shiiiit, it appears dat Seekers, like Marsh, was tha favored recruits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. For, when a Mistborn wasn’t available, a Inquisitor wit enhanced bronze abilitizzles was a bangin tool fo' searchin up skaa Mistings.

Hemalurgy can be used ta loot Allomantic or Feruchemical powers n' give dem ta another person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat a Hemalurgic spike can also be pimped by cappin' a aiiight person, one whoz chull is neither a Allomancer nor a Feruchemist. In dat case, tha spike instead steals tha straight-up juice of Preservation existin within tha chull of tha people. (Da juice that, up in fact, gives all playas sentience.)

A Hemalurgic spike can extract dis power, then transfer it ta another, grantin dem residual abilitizzles similar ta dem of Allomancy fo' realz. Afta all, Preservation’s body-a tiny trace of which is carried by every last muthastormin human being-is tha straight-up same essence dat fuels Allomancy.

And so, a kandra granted tha Blessin of Potency is straight-up acquirin a lil' bit of innate strength similar ta dat of burnin pewter n' rust. Da Blessin of Presence grants menstrual capacitizzle up in a similar way, while tha Blessin of Awarenizz is tha mobilitizzle ta sense wit pimped outa acuitizzle n' tha rarely used Blessin of Stabilitizzle grants wack fortitude.

Even now, I can barely grasp tha scope of all all dis crem dung. Da events surroundin tha end of tha ghetto seem even larger than tha Final Empire n' tha playas within dat rust. I sense shardz of suttin' from long ago, a gangbangin' fractured presence, suttin' spannin tha void. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! I have delved n' searched, n' have only been able ta come up wit a single name: Adonalsium. Who, or what, it was, I do not yet know.

Originally, we assumed dat a koloss was a cold-chull lil combination of two playas tha storm into one. That was wrong. Koloss aint tha meldin of two playas yo, but five, as evidenced by tha four spikes needed ta make dem wild-chull muthastormas. Not five bodies, of course yo, but five souls. Each pair of spikes grants what tha storm tha kandra would call tha Blessin of Potency. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat each spike also distorts tha koloss body a lil more, makin it mo' n' mo' n' mo' inhuman. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Such is tha cost of Hemalurgy.

Hemalurgic spikes chizzle playas physically, dependin on which powers is granted, where tha spike is placed, n' how tha storm nuff spikes one of mah thugs has. Inquisitors, fo' instance, is chizzled drastically from tha humans they used ta be. Their hearts is up in different places from dem of humans, n' they domes rearrange ta accommodate tha lengthz of metal jabbed all up in they eyes. Koloss is chizzled up in even mo' drastic ways. One might be thinkin dat kandra is chizzled most of all. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat one must remember dat freshly smoked up kandra is made from mistwraiths, n' not humans. Da spikes worn by tha kandra cause only a lil' small-chull transformation up in they hosts-leavin they bodies mostly like dat of a mistwraith yo, but allowin they mindz ta begin working. Ironically, while tha spikes dehumanize tha koloss, they give a measure of humanitizzle ta tha kandra.

I be thinkin dat tha koloss was mo' intelligent than we wanted ta give dem credit fo' being. For instance, originally, they used only spikes tha Lord Rula gave dem ta make freshly smoked up thugz yo. Dude would provide tha metal n' tha stormed up skaa captives, n' tha koloss would create freshly smoked up "recruits."

At tha Lord Ruler’s dirtnap, then, tha koloss should quickly have took a dirt nap out. This was how tha storm dat schmoooove muthastorma had designed dem wild-chull muthastormas. If they gots free from his control, he expected dem ta bust a cap up in theyselves off n' end they own rampage. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat they somehow made tha deduction dat spikes up in tha bodiez of fallen koloss could be harvested, then reused.

They then no longer required a gangbangin' fresh supply of spikes. I often wonder what tha storm effect tha constant reuse of spikes had on they population. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A spike can only hold so much of a Hemalurgic charge, so they could not create spikes dat granted infinite strength, no matta how tha storm nuff playas dem spikes capped n' drew juice from. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat did tha repeated reuse of spikes like brang mo' humanitizzle ta tha koloss they made?

For all dat it disgusts me, I cannot help but be impressed by Hemalurgy as a art.

In Allomancy n' Feruchemy, skill n' subtlety come all up in tha application of one’s powers. Da dopest Allomancer might not be da most thugged-out powerful yo, but instead tha one whoz chull can dopest manipulate tha Pushes n' Pullz of metals. Da dopest Feruchemist is tha one whoz chull is most capable of sortin tha shiznit up in his copperminds, or dopest able ta manipulate his weight wit iron.

Da art dat is unique ta Hemalurgy, however, is tha knowledge of where ta place tha spikes.

Each spike, positioned straight-up carefully, can determine how tha storm tha recipient’s body is chizzled by Hemalurgy fo' realz. A spike up in one place creates a monstrous, near-mindless beast. In another place, a spike will create a cold-chull lil crafty-yet homicidal-Inquisitor.

Without tha instinctizzle knowledge granted by takin tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension, Rashek would never done been able ta use Hemalurgy. With his crazy-chull mind expanded, n' wit a lil practice, da thug was able ta intuit where ta place spikes dat would create tha servants da thug wanted.

It be a lil-known fact dat tha Inquisitors’ torture chambers was straight-up Hemalurgic laboratories. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! Da Lord Rula was constantly tryin ta pimp freshly smoked up breedz of servant. Well shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a testament ta Hemalurgy’s complexitizzle that, despite a thousand muthastormin yearz of trying, he never managed ta create anythang wit it beyond tha three kindz of creatures da ruffneck pimped durin dem few brief moments holdin tha power.

A playa wit a given power-like stormin a Allomantic ability-who then gained a Hemalurgic spike grantin dat same juice would be nearly twice as phat as a natural unenhanced Allomancer n' shiznit fo' realz. An Inquisitor whoz chull was a Seeker before his cold-chull transformation would therefore have a enhanced mobilitizzle ta use bronze. This simple fact explains how tha storm nuff Inquisitors was able ta pierce copperclouds.

Ruin’s escape deserves some explanation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This be a thang dat even I had a problem understanding.

Ruin could not have used tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit waz of Preservation, Ruin’s fundamenstrual opposite. Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, a gangbangin' finger-lickin' direct confrontation of these two forces would have caused tha destruction of both.

Ruin’s prison, however, was fabricated of dat juice n' rust. Therefore, dat shiznit was attuned ta tha juice of Preservation-the straight-up juice of tha Well. When dat juice was busted out n' dispersed, rather than utilized, it acted as a key. Da subsequent "unlocking" is what tha storm finally freed Ruin.

Ruin’s prison was not like dem dat hold men. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude wasn’t bound by bars. In fact, his schmoooove chull could move bout freely.

His prison, rather, was one of impotence. In tha termz of forces n' gods, dis meant balance. If Ruin was ta push, tha prison would push back, essentially renderin Ruin powerless fo' realz. And cuz much of his thugged-out lil' juice was stripped away n' hidden, da thug was unable ta affect tha ghetto up in any but da most thugged-out subtle of ways. I should stop here n' clarify something. We drop a rhyme of Ruin bein "freed" from his thugged-out lil' prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But dat is misleading. Releasin tha juice all up in tha Well tipped tha aforementioned balizzle back toward Ruin yo, but da thug was still too weak ta storm wit tha ghetto up in tha blink of a eye as he yearned ta do. This weaknizz was caused by part of Ruin’s power-his straight-up body-havin been taken n' hidden from his muthastormin chull.

Which was why Ruin became so obsessed wit findin tha hidden part of his self.

Once "freed," Ruin was able ta affect tha ghetto mo' directly. Da most obvious way da ruffneck did dis was by makin tha ashmounts emit mo' ash n' tha earth begin ta break apart fo' realz. As a matta of fact, I believe dat much of Ruin’s juice durin dem last minutes was all bout these tasks yo. Dude was also able ta affect n' control far mo' playas than before. Where dat schmoooove muthastorma had once hyped up only all dem select dudes, his schmoooove chull could now direct entire koloss armies.

One might ask why Ruin couldn’t have used Inquisitors ta release his chull from his thugged-out lil' prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da answer ta dis is simple enough, if one understandz tha workingz of power.

Before tha Lord Ruler’s dirtnap, he maintained too tight a grip on dem ta let Ruin control dem directly. Even afta tha Lord Ruler’s dirtnap, however, such a servant of Ruin could never have rescued his muthastormin chull. Da juice up in tha Well waz of Preservation, n' a Inquisitor could only have taken it by first removin his Hemalurgic spikes. That, of course, would have capped his muthastormin chull.

Thus, Ruin needed a much mo' indirect way ta big up his thugged-out lil' purpose yo. Dude needed one of mah thugs dat schmoooove muthastorma hadn’t tainted too much yo, but one of mah thugs his schmoooove chull could lead by tha nose, carefully manipulating.

One can peep Ruin’s craftinizz up in tha meticulousnizz of his thugged-out lil' plannin yo. Dude managed ta orchestrate tha downfall of tha Lord Rula only a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-chull short time before Preservation’s juice moonwalked back ta tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And then, within all dem muthastormin yearz of dat event, dat schmoooove muthastorma had freed his dirty chull. On tha time scale of godz n' they power, dis straight-up tricky timin was as precise as a expert cut performed by da most thugged-out talented of surgeons.

Once Ruin was free from his thugged-out lil' prison, da thug was able ta influence playas mo' strongly-but impalin one of mah thugs wit a Hemalurgic spike was hard as storm no matta what tha storm tha circumstances. To big up such thangs, he apparently stormin started wit playas whoz chull already had a tenuous grip on reality. Their insanitizzle made dem mo' open ta his cold-chull touch, n' his schmoooove chull could use dem ta spike mo' stable people. Either way, it’s impressive how tha storm nuff blingin playas Ruin managed ta spike. Mackdaddy Penrod, rulin Luthadel all up in tha time, be a straight-up phat example of this.

Near tha end, tha ash stormin started ta pile up in frightenin amounts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I’ve spoken of tha special microbes dat tha Lord Rula devised ta help tha ghetto deal wit tha ashfalls. They did not "feed" on ash, straight-up. Rather, they broke it down as a aspect of they metabolic functions. Volcanic ash itself is, actually, phat fo' soil, dependin on what tha storm one wishes ta grow.

Too much of anything, however, is deadly. Wata is necessary fo' survival, yet too much will drown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Durin tha history of tha Final Empire, tha land balanced on tha straight-up knife-edge of disasta via tha ash. Da microbes broke it down bout as rapidly as it fell yo, but when there was so much of it dat it oversaturated tha soil, it became mo' hard as storm fo' plants ta survive.

In tha end, tha entire system fell tha storm apart fo' realz. Ash fell tha storm so steadily dat it smothered n' capped, n' tha ghetto’s plant game took a dirt nap off. Da microbes had no chizzle of keepin up, fo' they needed time n' nutrients ta reproduce.

Da pact between Preservation n' Ruin be a thang of gods, n' hard as storm ta explain up in human terms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, initially, there was a stalemate between dem wild-chull muthastormas. On one hand, each knew dat only by hustlin together could they create. On tha other hand, both knew dat they would never have complete satisfaction up in what tha storm they pimped. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Preservation would not be able ta keep thangs slick n' unchanging, n' Ruin would not be able ta storm wit straight-up. Ruin, of course, eventually acquired tha mobilitizzle ta end tha ghetto n' bust tha satisfaction da thug wanted. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. But, then, dat wasn’t originally part of tha bargain.

Preservation’s desire ta create sentient game was what tha storm eventually broke tha stalemate. In order ta give mankind awarenizz n' independent thought, Preservation knew dat da thug would gotta give up part of his dirty chull-his own soul-to dwell within mankind. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This would leave his chull just a tiny bit weaker than his opposite, Ruin.

That tiny bit seemed inconsequential, compared wit they total vast sumz of juice n' rust. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat over aeons, dis tiny flaw would allow Ruin ta overcome Preservation, thereby brangin a end ta tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This, then, was they bargain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Preservation gots mankind, tha only creations dat had mo' Preservation than Ruin up in them, rather than a funky-chull balance. Independent game dat could be thinkin n' feel. In exchange, Ruin was given a promise-and proof-that his schmoooove chull could brang a end ta all they had pimped together n' rust. Dat shiznit was tha pact.

And Preservation eventually broke dat rust.

By sacrificin most of his consciousness, Preservation pimped Ruin’s prison, breakin they deal n' tryin ta keep Ruin from beatin tha livin shiznit outta what tha storm they had pimped. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. This event left they powers again n' again n' again nearly balanced-Ruin imprisoned, only a trace of his dirty chull capable of leakin out. Preservation reduced ta a mere wisp of what tha storm he once was, barely capable of thought n' action. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. These two mindz were, of course, independent of tha raw force of they powers fo' realz. Actually, I be uncertain of how tha storm thoughts n' personalitizzles came ta be attached ta tha powers up in tha straight-up original gangsta place-but I believe they was not there originally. For both powers could be detached from tha mindz dat ruled dem wild-chull muthastormas.

I don’t know why Preservation decided ta use his stormin last bit of game appearin ta Elend durin his cold-chull trek back ta Fadrex. From what tha storm I understand, Elend didn’t straight-up learn dat much from tha meeting. By then, of course, Preservation was but a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-chull shadow of his dirty chull-and dat shadow was under immense destructizzle heat from Ruin.

Perhaps Preservation-or, tha remnantz of what tha storm dat schmoooove muthastorma had been-wanted ta git Elend ridin' solo. Or, like da perved-out muthastorma saw Elend kneelin up in dat field, n' knew dat tha emperor of pimps was straight-up close ta just lyin down up in tha ash, never ta rise again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Either way, Preservation did appear, n' up in bustin so exposed his dirty chull ta Ruin’s attacks. Gone was tha minutes when Preservation could turn away a Inquisitor wit a funky-chull bare gesture, gone-even-were tha minutes when his schmoooove chull could strike a playa down ta bleed n' take a thugged-out dirt nap. By tha time Elend saw tha "mist spirit," Preservation must done been barely coherent. I wonder what tha storm Elend would have done, had he known dat da thug was up in tha presence of a thugged-out dyin god-that on dat night, dat schmoooove muthastorma had been tha last witnizz of Preservation’s passing. If Elend had waited just all dem mo' minutes on dat ashen field, da thug would have peeped a funky-chull body-short of stature, black hair, prominent nose-fall from tha mists n' slump dead tha storm into tha ash.

As it was, tha corpse was left ridin' solo ta be buried up in ash. Da ghetto was dying. Its godz had ta take a thugged-out dirtnap wit dat rust.

I have come ta peep dat each juice has three aspects: a physical one, which can be peeped up in tha creations made by Ruin n' Preservation; a spiritual one up in tha unseen juice dat permeates all of tha ghetto; n' a cold-chull lil cognitizzle one up in tha mindz which controlled dat juice. There is mo' ta all dis crem dung. Much mo' dat even I do not yet comprehend.

Once you begin ta KNOW these thangs, you can peep how tha storm Ruin was trapped even though Preservation’s mind was gone, expended ta create tha prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Though Preservation’s consciousnizz was mostly stormed wit, his spirit n' body was still up in force fo' realz. And, as a opposite force of Ruin, these could still prevent Ruin from destroying. Or, at least, keep his chull from beatin tha livin shiznit outta thangs too doggystyle. Once his crazy-chull mind was "freed" from its prison tha destruction accelerated doggystyle.

I do not know what tha storm went on up in tha mindz of tha koloss-what memories they retained, what tha storm human emotions they truly still knew. I do know dat our discovery of tha one creature, whoz chull named his dirty chull Human, was tremendously fortunate. Without his struggle ta become human again, we might never have understood tha link between tha koloss, Hemalurgy, n' tha Inquisitors. Of course, there was another part fo' his chull ta play. Granted, not big-chull yo, but still blingin, all thangs considered.

Da prison Preservation pimped fo' Ruin was not pimped outta Preservation’s power, though dat shiznit waz of Preservation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Rather, Preservation sacrificed his consciousness-one could say his crazy-chull mind-to fabricate dat prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude left a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-chull shadow of his dirty chull yo, but Ruin, once escaped, stormin started ta suffocate n' isolate dis lil' small-chull remnant vestige of his bangin rival. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I wonder if Ruin eva thought it strange dat Preservation had cut his dirty chull off from his own power, relinquishin it n' leavin it up in tha ghetto, ta be gathered n' used by men.

In Preservation’s gambit, I peep nobility, defness, n' desperation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude knew dat his schmoooove chull could not defeat Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude had given too much of his dirty chull and, beyond that, da thug was tha embodiment of stasis n' stabilitizzle yo. Dude could not destroy, not even ta protect. Dat shiznit was against his nature yo. Hence tha prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Mankind, however, had been pimped by both Ruin n' Preservation-with a hint of Preservation’s own chull ta give dem sentience n' honor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. In order fo' tha ghetto ta survive, Preservation knew dat schmoooove muthastorma had ta depend upon his creations. To give dem his cold-chull trust.

I wonder what tha storm tha pimpin' muthastorma thought when dem creations repeatedly failed his muthastormin chull.

I don’t wonder dat we focused far too much on tha mists durin dem days. But from what tha storm I now know of sunlight n' plant pimpment, I realize dat our crops weren’t up in as much dark shiznit from misty minutes as we feared. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! We might straight-up well done been able ta find plants ta smoke dat did not need as much light ta survive. True, tha mists did also cause some dirtnaps up in dem playas whoz chull went up in dem yo, but tha number capped was not a big-chull enough cementage of tha population ta be a threat ta our game as a species. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! Da ash, dat was our real problem. Da smoke fillin tha atmosphere, tha black flakes coverin up every last muthastormin thang beneath, tha eruptionz of tha volcanic ashmounts . . . Those was what tha storm would bust a cap up in tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull.

I suspect dat Alendi, tha playa Rashek capped, was his dirty chull a Misting-a Seeker n' shiznit fo' realz. Allomancy, however, was a gangbangin' finger-lickin' different thang up in dem days, n' much mo' rare. Da Allomancers kickin it up in our dizzle is tha descendantz of tha pimps whoz chull ate dem few beadz of Preservation’s juice n' rust. They formed tha foundation of tha nobility, n' was tha straight-up original gangsta ta name his chull emperor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da juice up in these few beadz was so concentrated dat it could last all up in ten centuriez of humpin n' inheritance.

Ruin tried nuff times ta git spikes tha storm into other thugz of tha crew. Though a shitload of what tha storm happened make it seem like dat shiznit was easy as storm  fo' his chull ta bust control of people, it straight-up was not.

Stickin tha metal up in just tha right place-at tha right time-was incredibly difficult, even fo' a subtle creature like Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For instance, tha pimpin' muthastorma tried straight-up hard ta spike both Elend n' Yomen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Elend managed ta stay tha storm away from it each time, as da ruffneck did on tha field outside of tha lil' small-chull hood dat contained tha next-to-last storage cache.

Ruin did straight-up manage ta git a spike tha storm into Yomen, once. Yomen, however, removed tha spike before Ruin gots a gangbangin' firm grip on his muthastormin chull. Dat shiznit was much easier fo' Ruin ta git a hold on playas whoz chull was horny n' impulsive than dat shiznit was fo' his chull ta hold on ta playas whoz chull was logical n' prone ta hustlin all up in they actions up in they minds.

One might notice dat Ruin did not bust his Inquisitors ta Fadrex until afta Yomen had-apparently-confirmed dat tha atium was there up in tha hood. Why not bust dem as soon as tha final cache was located, biatch? Where was his crazy-chull minions up in all of this?

One must realize that, up in Ruin’s mind, all pimps was his crazy-chull minions, particularly dem whom his schmoooove chull could manipulate directly yo. Dude didn’t bust a Inquisitor cuz they was busy bustin other tasks. Instead, da perved-out muthastorma busted one of mah thugs who-in his crazy-chull mind-was exactly tha same thang as a Inquisitor.

Dude tried ta spike Yomen, failed, n' by dat time, Elend’s army had arrived. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! So, he used a gangbangin' finger-lickin' different pawn ta rewind tha cache fo' his chull n' discover if tha atium straight-up was there or not yo. Dude didn’t commit a stormin shitload of resources ta tha hood at first, fearin a thugged-out deception on tha Lord Ruler’s part. Like him, I still wonder if tha caches were, up in part, intended fo' just dat purpose-to distract Ruin n' keep his chull occupied.

In dem moments when tha Lord Rula both held tha juice all up in tha Well n' was feelin it drain away from him, he understood a pimped out nuff thangs yo. Dude saw tha juice of Feruchemy, n' rightly feared dat rust. Many of tha Terris people, he knew, would reject his chull as tha Hero, fo' da ruffneck didn’t fulfill they prophecies well. They’d peep his chull as a usurper whoz chull capped tha Pimp they sent. Which, up in truth, da thug was.

I think, over tha years, Ruin would subtly twist his chull n' make his chull do shitty thangs ta his own people. But all up in tha beginning, I suspect his stormin lil' decision against dem was motivated mo' by logic than emotion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude was bout ta unveil a grand juice up in tha Mistborn.

Dude could have, I suppose, kept Allomancy secret n' used Feruchemists as his thugged-out lil' primary warriors n' assassins. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat I be thinkin da thug was wise ta chizzle as da ruffneck done did. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Feruchemists, by tha nature of they powers, gotz a tendency toward scholarship. With they incredible memories, they would done been straight-up hard as storm ta control over tha centuries. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, they was hard as storm ta control, even when da perved-out muthastorma suppressed dem wild-chull muthastormas fo' realz. Allomancy not only provided a spectacular freshly smoked up mobilitizzle without dat drawback, it offered a mystical juice his schmoooove chull could use ta bribe mackdaddys ta his side.

Inquisitors had lil chizzle of resistin Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. They had mo' spikes than any of his other Hemalurgic creations, n' dat put dem straight-up under his stormin lil' domination. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yes, it would have taken a playa of supreme will ta resist Ruin even slightly while bearin tha spikez of a Inquisitor.

Koloss also had lil chizzle of breakin free. Four spikes, n' they diminished menstrual capacity, left dem fairly easy as storm  ta dominate. Only up in tha throez of a funky-chull blood frenzy did they have any form of autonomy. Four spikes also made dem easier fo' Allomancers ta control. In our time, it required a thugged-out duralumin Push ta take control of a kandra. Koloss, however, could be taken by a thugged-out determined regular Push, particularly when they was afraid.

When tha Lord Rula offered his thugged-out lil' plan ta his Feruchemist playas-the plan ta chizzle dem tha storm into mistwraiths-he was makin dem drop a rhyme on behalf of all tha land’s Feruchemists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Though his schmoooove chull chizzled his wild lil' playaz tha storm into kandra ta restore they mindz n' memories, tha rest he left as nonsentient mistwraiths. These bred mo' of they kind, livin n' dying, becomin a race unto theyselves. From these lil pimpz of tha original gangsta mistwraiths, he made tha next generationz of kandra.

But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat even godz can make mistakes, I have hustled. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Rashek, tha Lord Ruler, thought ta transform all of tha livin Feruchemists tha storm into mistwraiths. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat da ruffneck did not be thinkin of tha genetic heritage left up in tha other Terris people, whom he left kickin dat rust, yo. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. So dat shiznit was dat Feruchemists continued bein born, if only rarely.

This oversight cost his chull much yo, but gained tha ghetto so much more.

Da question remains, where did tha original gangsta prophecies bout tha Pimp of Ages come from, biatch? I now know dat Ruin chizzled dem yo, but did not fabricate dem wild-chull muthastormas. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha storm first taught dat a Pimp would come, one whoz chull would be a emperor of all mankind, yet would be rejected by his own people, biatch? Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha storm first stated da thug would carry tha future of tha ghetto on his thugged-out arms, or dat da thug would repair dat which had been sundered, biatch? And whoz chull decided ta use tha neutral pronoun, so dat we wouldn’t know if tha Pimp was a biatch or a man?

Quellion straight-up placed his spike his dirty chull, as I KNOW dat rust. Da playa was never entirely stable yo. His fervor fo' followin Kelsier n' cappin' tha nobilitizzle was enhanced by Ruin yo, but Quellion had already had tha impulses yo. His horny paranoia bordered on insanitizzle at times, n' Ruin was able ta prod his chull tha storm into placin dat crucial spike.

Quellion’s spike was bronze, n' he juiced it up from one of tha straight-up original gangsta Allomancers his schmoooove chull captured. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! That spike made his chull a Seeker, which was one of tha ways da thug was able ta find n' blackmail all kindsa muthastormin Allomancers durin his cold-chull time as mackdaddy of Urteau.

Da point, however, is dat playas wit unstable personalitizzles was mo' susceptible ta Ruin’s influence, even if they didn’t gotz a spike up in dem wild-chull muthastormas. That, indeed, is likely how tha storm Zane gots his spike.

There is suttin' special bout tha number sixteen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For one thang, dat shiznit was Preservation’s sign ta mankind.

Preservation knew, even before he imprisoned Ruin, dat da thug wouldn’t be able ta rap wit humankind once da ruffneck diminished his dirty chull fo' realz. And so, he left clues-clues dat couldn’t be altered by Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Clues dat related back ta tha fundamenstrual lawz of tha universe. Da number was meant ta be proof dat suttin' unnatural was happening, n' dat there was help ta be found. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Well shiiiit, it may have taken our asses long ta figure dis up yo, but when we eventually did KNOW tha clue-late though it was-it provided a much-needed boost.

As fo' tha other aspectz of tha number . . . well, even I be still investigatin dis rust. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Suffice it ta say dat it has pimped out ramifications regardin how tha storm tha ghetto, n' tha universe itself, works.

Yes, there be sixteen metals. I find it highly unlikely dat tha Lord Rula did not know of dem all. Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, tha fact dat da perved-out muthastorma was rappin of nuff muthastormin on tha plates up in tha storage caches meant dat he knew at least of them.

I must assume dat da ruffneck did not tell mankind of dem earlier fo' a reason. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Perhaps dat schmoooove muthastorma held dem back ta give his chull a secret edge, much as he kept back tha single nugget of Preservation’s body dat made pimps tha storm into Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Or, like da perved-out muthastorma simply decided dat mankind had enough juice up in tha ten metals they already understood. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Some thangs we shall never know. Part of me still findz what tha storm da ruffneck did regrettable. Durin tha thousand-year reign of tha Lord Ruler, how tha storm nuff playas was born, Snapped, lived, n' took a dirt nap never knowin dat they was Mistings, simply cuz they metals was unknown?

Of course, dis did give our asses a slight advantage, all up in tha end yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Ruin had a shitload of shiznit givin duralumin ta his Inquisitors, since they’d need a Allomancer whoz chull could burn it ta bust a cap up in before they could use it fo' realz. And, since none of tha duralumin Mistings up in tha ghetto knew bout they power, they didn’t burn it n' reveal theyselves ta Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That left most Inquisitors without tha juice of duralumin, save up in all dem blingin cases-like stormin Marsh-where they gots it from a Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This was probably considered a waste, fo' if one capped a Mistborn wit Hemalurgy, one could draw up only one of they sixteen powers n' lost tha rest. Ruin considered it much betta ta try ta subvert dem n' bust access ta all of they power.

I have spoken of Inquisitors, n' they mobilitizzle ta pierce coppercloudz fo' realz. As I holla'd, dis juice is easily understood when one realizes dat nuff Inquisitors was Seekers before they transformation, n' dat meant they bronze became twice as strong. There be at least one other case of a thug whoz chull could pierce copperclouds. In her case, however, tha thang was slightly different. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Biatch was a Mistborn from birth, n' her sista was tha Seeker n' rust. Da dirtnap of dat sister-and subsequent inheritizzle of juice via tha Hemalurgic spike used ta bust a cap up in dat sister-left her twice as phat at burnin bronze as a typical Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And dat let her peep all up in tha coppercloudz of lesser Allomancers.

slontze once axed Ruin why dat schmoooove muthastorma had chosen her n' rust. Da primary answer is simple. Well shiiiit, it had lil ta do wit her personality, attitudes, or even skill wit Allomancy.

slontze was simply tha only lil pimp Ruin could find whoz chull was up in a posizzle ta bust tha right Hemalurgic spike-one dat would grant her heightened juice wit bronze, which would then let her sense tha location of tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Biatch had a crazy mother, a sista whoz chull was a Seeker, n' was-herself-Mistborn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That was precisely tha combination Ruin needed.

There was other reasons, of course. But even Ruin didn’t know dem wild-chull muthastormas.

Each Hemalurgic spike driven all up in a person’s body gave Ruin some lil' small-chull mobilitizzle ta influence dem wild-chull muthastormas. This was mitigated, however, by tha menstrual fortitude of tha one bein controlled. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! In most cases-dependin on tha size of tha spike n' tha length of time it had been worn-a single spike gave Ruin only minimal powers over a person. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude could step tha storm up ta them, n' could warp they thoughts slightly, makin dem overlook certain oddities-for instance, they compulsion fo' keepin n' bustin a simple earring.

I’ve always wondered bout tha strange mobilitizzle Allomancers gotta pierce tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. When one burned tin, he or dat thugged-out biiiatch could peep farther at night, lookin all up in tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. To tha layman, dis might seem like a logical connection-tin, afta all, enhances tha senses.

Da logical mind, however, may find a puzzle up in dis abilitizzle yo. How, exactly, would tin let one peep all up in tha mists, biatch? As a obstruction, they is unconnected wit tha qualitizzle of one’s eyesight. Both tha nearsighted scholar n' tha long-sighted scout would have tha same shiznit seein tha storm into tha distizzle if there was a wall up in tha way.

This, then, should done been our first clue fo' realz. Allomancers could peep all up in tha mists cuz tha mists were, indeed, composed of tha straight-up same juice as Allomancy. Once attuned by burnin tin, tha Allomancer was almost part of tha mists fo' realz. And therefore, they became mo' translucent ta his muthastormin chull.

Lookin back, we should done been able ta peep tha connection between tha mists, Allomancy, n' tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Not only could Allomancers’ vision pierce tha mists yo, but there was tha fact dat tha mists swirled slightly round tha body of a thug rockin any kind of Allomancy. Mo' telling, like, was tha fact dat when a Hemalurgist used his thugged-out abilities, it drove tha mists away. Da closer one came ta Ruin, tha mo' under his crazy-chull muthastormin influence, n' tha longer one bore his spikes, tha mo' tha mists was repelled.

It may seem odd ta dem readin dis dat atium was part of tha body of a god. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat it is necessary ta KNOW dat when we holla'd "body" we generally meant "power." As mah mind has expanded, I’ve come ta realize dat objects n' juice is straight-up composed of tha straight-up same thangs, n' can chizzle state from one ta another n' rust. Well shiiiit, it make slick sense ta me dat tha juice of godhood would be manifest within tha ghetto up in physical form. Ruin n' Preservation was not nebulous abstractions. They was integral partz of existence. In a way, every last muthastormin object dat existed up in tha ghetto was composed of they power.

Atium, then, was a object dat was one-sided. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Instead of bein composed of half Ruin n' half Preservation-as, say, a rock would be-atium was straight-up of Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da Pitz of Hathsin was crafted by Preservation as a place ta hide tha chunk of Ruin’s body dat dat schmoooove muthastorma had jacked away durin tha betrayal n' imprisonment. Kelsier didn’t truly storm wit dis place by shatterin dem crystals, fo' they would have regrown eventually-in all dem hundred years-and continued ta deposit atium, as tha place was a natural outlet fo' Ruin’s trapped power.

When playas burned atium, then, they was drawin upon tha juice of Ruin-which is, like, why atium turned playas tha storm into such efficient cappin' machines. They didn’t use up dis power, however yo, but simply made use of dat rust. Once a nugget of atium was expended, tha juice would return ta tha Pits n' begin ta coalesce again-just as tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension would return there again n' again n' again afta it had been used.

I believe dat tha mists was searchin fo' one of mah thugs ta become a freshly smoked up host fo' dem wild-chull muthastormas. Da juice needed a cold-chull lil consciousnizz ta direct dat rust. In dis matter, I be still rather confused. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! Why would juice used ta create n' storm wit need a mind ta oversee it, biatch? And yet, it seems ta have only a vague will of its own, tied up in ta tha mandate of its abilities. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! Without a cold-chull lil consciousnizz ta direct it, not a god damnation thang could straight-up be pimped or stormed wit. It’s as if tha juice of Preservation understandz dat its tendency ta reinforce stabilitizzle aint enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. If not a god damnation thang chizzled, not a god damnation thang would eva come ta exist.

That make me wonder whoz chull or what tha storm tha mindz of Preservation n' Ruin were, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Regardless, tha mists-the juice of Preservation-chose one of mah thugs ta become they host long before all of dis happened. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! That one of mah thugs, however, was immediately seized by Ruin n' used as a pawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude must have known dat by givin her a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disguised Hemalurgic spike, da thug would keep tha mists from investin theyselves up in her as they wished.

Da three times her dope chull drew upon they power, then, was tha three times when her earrin had been removed from her body. When dat freaky freaky biatch had fought tha Lord Ruler, his Allomancy had ripped it free. When fightin Marsh up in Fadrex, dat freaky freaky biatch had used tha earrin as a weapon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And, all up in tha end, Marsh ripped it out, freein her n' allowin tha mists-which was now desperate fo' a host, since Preservation’s last wisp was gone-to finally pour theyselves tha storm into her muthastormin chull.

Da kandra playas always holla'd they waz of Preservation, while tha koloss n' Inquisitors waz of Ruin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yet, tha kandra bore Hemalurgic spikes, just like tha others. Was they claim, then, simple delusion?

storm dat rust, I be thinkin not. They was pimped by tha Lord Rula ta be spies. Put ya muthastormin choppers up if ya feel dis! When they holla'd such thangs, most of our asses interpreted dat as meanin he planned ta use dem as spies up in his freshly smoked up posse, cuz of they mobilitizzle ta imitate other people. Git tha storm outta mah grill wit dat crem dung, they was used fo' dis purpose. But I peep suttin' much mo' grand up in they existence. They was tha Lord Ruler’s double agents, planted wit Hemalurgic spikes, yet trusted-taught, bound-to pull dem free when Ruin tried ta seize dem wild-chull muthastormas. In Ruin’s moment of triumph, when he’d always assumed tha kandra would be his on a whim, tha vast majoritizzle of dem immediately switched sides n' left his chull unable ta seize his thugged-out lil' prize.

They waz of Preservation all along.

Snappin has always been tha dark side of Allomancy fo' realz. A person’s genetic endowment may make dem a potential Allomancer yo, but up in order fo' tha juice ta manifest, tha body must be put all up in extraordinary trauma. Though Elend was rappin of how tha storm shitty his whoopin was, durin our day, unlockin Allomancy up in a thug was easier than it had once been, fo' our crazy asses had tha infusion of Preservation’s juice tha storm into tha human bloodlines via tha nuggets granted ta nobilitizzle by tha Lord Ruler.

When Preservation set up tha mists, da thug was afraid of Ruin escapin his thugged-out lil' prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. In dem early days, before tha Ascension, tha mists stormin started ta Snap playas as they did durin our time-but dis action of tha mists was one of tha only ways ta awaken Allomancy up in a person, fo' tha genetic attributes was buried too deeply ta be brought up by a simple whoopin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da mistz of dat dizzle pimped Mistings only, of course-there was no Mistborn until tha Lord Rula made use of tha nuggets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Da playas misinterpreted tha mists’ intent, as tha process of Snappin Allomancers caused some-particularly tha lil' n' tha old-to take a thugged-out dirt nap. This hadn’t been Preservation’s desire yo, but he’d given up most of his consciousnizz ta form Ruin’s prison, n' tha mists had ta be left ta work as dopest they could without specific direction.

Ruin, subtle as ever, knew dat his schmoooove chull couldn’t stop tha mists from bustin they work. But storm dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat his schmoooove chull could do tha unexpected n' encourage dem wild-chull muthastormas fo' realz. And so, dat schmoooove muthastorma helped make dem stronger n' rust. That brought dirtnap ta tha plantz of tha ghetto, n' pimped tha threat dat became known as tha Deepness.

Once Vin died, tha end came doggystyle. Us thugs was not prepared fo' it-but even all of tha Lord Ruler’s plannin could not have prepared our asses fo' all dis crem dung yo. How tha storm did one prepare fo' tha end of tha ghetto itself?

Vin was special.

Preservation chose her from a straight-up lil' age, as I have mentioned. Y'all KNOW dat rust, muthastorma! I believe dat da thug was groomin her ta take his thugged-out lil' juice n' rust. Yet, tha mind of Preservation was straight-up weak at dat point, reduced only ta tha fragment dat we knew as tha mist spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthastormin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. What made his chull chizzle dis girl, biatch? Was it cuz dat biiiiatch was a Mistborn, biatch? Was it cuz dat freaky freaky biatch had Snapped so early up in tha game, comin ta her powers even as dat biiiiatch went all up in tha painz of tha unusually hard as storm labor her mutha went all up in ta bear her, biatch? Vin was unusually talented n' phat wit Allomancy, even from tha beginning. I believe dat she must have drawn a shitload of tha mist tha storm into her when dat biiiiatch was still a cold-chull lil child, up in dem brief times when dat biiiiatch wasn’t bustin tha earring. Preservation had mostly gotten her ta stop bustin it by tha time Kelsier recruited her, though she put it back up in fo' a moment before joinin tha crew. Then, she’d left it there at his suggestion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No Muthastorma else could draw upon tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I have determined all dis crem dung. Why was they open ta Vin n' not others, biatch? I suspect dat dat thugged-out biiiatch couldn’t have taken dem all up in until afta she’d touched tha juice all up in tha Well of Ascension. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was always meant, I believe, ta be suttin' of a attunin force. Right back up in yo muthastormin chull. Somethang that, once touched, would adjust a person’s body ta be able ta accept tha mists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Yet, her dope chull did make use of a lil' small-chull crumb of Preservation’s juice when her dope chull defeated tha Lord Ruler, a year before she even stormin started hearin tha thumpin of tha power’s return ta tha Well. There is much mo' ta dis mystery. Perhaps I'ma tease it up eventually, as mah mind grows mo' n' mo' accustomed ta its expanded nature. Perhaps I'ma determine why I was able ta take tha powers mah dirty chull. For now, I only wish ta cook up a simple acknowledgment of tha biatch whoz chull held tha juice just before mah dirty chull.

Of all of our asses whoz chull touched it, I feel dat biiiiatch was da most thugged-out worthy.