AonEne

This is simply not true. Xino, I'm like 99% certain at this point that you are the only one who wants these discussions and thinks they're working. They keep happening because you're starting them. If there is anyone else who shares Xino's POV, please speak up because if no one does I'll be assuming there is no one else.

TUBA literally has an NPC called Pi

As a TUBAist, I have literally zero need for your cookies

Ayyyy, another Pokéfan!

What, why? I don’t think anything’s been posted since I last read it.

We should start counting down days along with counting up percentages That sounds absolutely awful! YAY IN THE NAME OF PUPPIES

I'm not totally sure if it's possible to become a Rithmatist without having lived on their Earth, since as far as we know it has to happen by eight. Unless of course you use Hemalurgy.

I can't tell if this rhyme was on purpose or just not thought.

Thank you

Thank you.

Edit: This blog entry used to contain a theory on my mental health. I no longer believe that it is true, and have therefore deleted it. My apologies for any confusion.

She’d used the word friend. Deteca smiled softly, then wrote back simply, Zokora, that sounds good. Until this afternoon. Your friend Deteca.

When you use the Alcatraz book you get at a family Christmas party to spark a Sanderson conversation. (I think I got a new convert, woo!)

“Rob, sometimes when people smile at you and act really nice, it means something else,” Cassie spoke up, glancing at him in the rearview mirror as she joined the line of cars dropping people off at school. She’d let them all out at the front so they could walk in the door, then park and go in herself. Her gaze drifted over to Nym. When had she gotten into the car? “Hey, do you go to school here, or do you need to be enrolled...” She trailed off, not entirely sure what being enrolled in school entailed. Didn’t your legal guardian need to do it? @Ookla the very snazzy

Nahhh.

@Ookla the Dreamer *** Deteca was walking down the hall on her way back from the main TUBA base’s mail room, having just dropped off the letter. The concept of a meeting that wasn’t official or important or weighty was luxurious, and she had to admit she was already looking forward to it, already hoping Zokora would be able to make it. She needed to thank the woman in person for her help after the fight down in the tunnels. She still had nightmares of that day. The young girl, dead and bleeding on the ground; the blackness at the corner of her vision; the emptiness of all care snuffed out. She had had to delegate telling Zaphiris’s parents what had happened to their daughter to someone else, because if she stood there in front of them... “Mom...Dad...this is my fault, isn’t it? She died because I...” They did not refute her. Deteca blinked out of her memory, realizing she’d stopped moving, and went to keep going. Her phone buzzed with a text in her back pocket; she reached for it with a minute sigh, acknowledging that work never ended. Her hand stalled when, before she could pick it up, it buzzed with a different frequency - a call rather than a text - then several more of each all at once, plus emails, and her spanreed notifiers were going off, and what was going on? Frowning slightly, she tapped on the first text she got...and, eyes widening, read more and more. Then she slipped her phone back into her pocket and went on the search for someone who could tell her why half the spies assigned to ACE’s expedition were screaming about atium. @Voidus

Myriad stayed quietly in the back of the group, having picked up her bag (strangely, with the Soulcaster missing - they must have taken it) from under the covering that had been placed on top of her previous body. She felt bad for the woman, but worse for herself - the sight and sensation of your organs not being where they were supposed to be wasn’t one she ever wanted to see again. The exact opposite of a painless way to die. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again. So she kept her eyes open in this new body, which was male and not burdened by a lack of sleep. It wasn’t hard when there was so much to focus on; they’d come across a metal that was apparently valuable. She quietly scribed the findings to the rest of the guild through her spanreed notebook, taking in the conversation from the background as it happened and relaying it. She noticed a few other people doing the same or using phones, no doubt communicating with their own guilds. @Rushu42

I was being mugged. It wasn’t unexpected. I was, as always, storing luck - this time in a bracelet - so as soon as I’d stepped into an alleyway, the odds weren’t in my favor that anything other than an attack or the alley simply collapsing on top of me would happen. Though if it had collapsed, I would’ve tapped to get out of there safely - one of the few times I allowed myself to stop storing, because while I would accept the world hurting me, I couldn’t die yet. Not when there was so much I had to do. The muggers were three men, one ginger-haired and muscular, the other two with brown locks, and all three with the same quirky grin and twinkling violet irises that indicated they were probably related. I could see how some might find them attractive. I didn’t, given that one was stripping my metalminds from me, another standing by holding my bag and my own gun aimed at my head, with the third acting as a lookout at the mouth of the alleyway. The one who was relieving me of my chromium was very free with where he felt for jewelry, but my face was set in a pleasant expression. I deserved the discomfort, of course. “Thank you,” I said to him as he stepped back, having taken away all the metalminds he could find. It still wasn’t all of them. “It’s always annoying to empty those.” And the metal wasn’t hard to obtain, so I often simply ditched or sold them somewhere, then bought empty ones. He ignored me, naturally, and spoke to his partner. “She’s got a spike. We could take that out first; it might make things uncomfortable, depending on how you want to start.” Strangely articulate for a thief and presumably worse. How had I managed to get someone who spoke a language I knew? I frowned and stored more. “She’d scream,” the other chuckled, eyes drifting over to the lookout. “That’s more Brady’s style.” His gaze snapped hungrily back to me, and he shrugged. “But this one hasn’t fussed much so far, so perhaps she wouldn’t.” As they continued their conversation, the topic turning to who got to go first, I quietly ignited the copper in my stomach. The familiarity of Smoking was like the face of a friend, known and safe and welcome. Its warmth felt nice, which wasn’t what I would have preferred, but the usual throb of my spike and the looming danger of my situation, plus the unluckily damp cold of the alley I was in, more than balanced it out. And sure enough, some of the complacency I’d been feeling faded away. One of them must have been Soothing me, if not very well. I still felt fairly casual; that emotion was my own. He’d just amplified it. One of them had Scadrian Investiture. That clinched it. No more satisfying discomfort for me today; I had to take care of these three fools. Which meant I could tap, just for now, for this occasion. I mentally reached into a chromiummind embedded in my leg and let its Fortune soak through me. If copper was a friend, good luck was an enemy. I hated it, because I shouldn’t have it. I wasn’t good enough for it! But I had this power anyway, so I’d make use of it like a good Spinner - to kill. With myself now luckier, I observed my surroundings. The two men, who’d before been disagreeing on good terms, got a little more heated in their argument. They seemed to be hitting on hidden stores of jealousy and hatred. How fortunate that this inevitable event should happen while I was here. I waited calmly as they came to blows, one forced to drop my possessions in the process, which I easily swooped in to pick up. Though I was right in the middle of their fight for a moment, neither landed even a glancing hit on me. Swinging wildly, the muscular one caught his brother in the neck, sending him reeling down. I stepped in calmly to swipe a blade across the fallen man’s throat. Shocked by the suddenness, the man with ginger hair who had patted me down minutes before stepped backward, and tripped over a perfectly placed pebble that rolled under his boot. I threw the knife without aiming and it of course found its way right to his heart. I walked out the alley unimpeded and took Brady from behind by surprise. After he’d slumped to the ground, bleeding out, I stopped tapping and walked away. I needed someplace to clean myself off.

Frost

*much ooooohing*