Silva

The song was an ode to the pineapple elders.

I like how you used 'you' there. Still, that's Aderet viewed it. And she's a child, yeah? "I think you just ignored everything I said," Aderet insisted. "You're right. I'm wrong. You can't be responsible when dealing with large objects. Because that's what a city filled with living breathing people ought to be treated as--an object. Not something priceless with a mind of its own. And experience really is all that matters. I guess no one young should ever get involved because they shouldn't be trusted since they haven't spent years in the field. New ideas and initiatives are foolhardy. You're right." She leaned back in her chair and let her posture relax a little, which by Aderet Celeste Blanche Addington standards didn't mean much. "I'm sorry for having tried, unsuccessfully, to challenge you. It was unwarranted."

Question: How much wood could a feruchemical-steel-spiked woodchuck chuck if a feruchemical-steel-spiked woodchuck could chuck wood?

Branch tried to Pull at the metal in a camera with its lens facing him as Crow dragged him and Fog away. He didn't have much iron in his system, but the traces were enough to burn and he was bored. Golda reviewed the way they'd gone in her head over and over until it didn't feel only tentatively there. Then she thought about the soldiers and speculated different guard shifts or patterns. Not that it did much when they were locked in. Tanel broke the silence. "Is this a dream? First I get dumped and then, in the pits of my misery, a crazy vengeful killer murders my parents and kidnaps the rest of us. There's no way that could actually happen to a person." His words echoed through the dungeon. "Yes, Tan," Viness said, sarcastically. "This is a dream that is definitely supposed to teach you something deep about yourself." "Well, that answers it. You're always a nice, comforting big sister in my dreams," Tanel said. He smiled to try and make light of the situation, but the dark hid it from the others. It vanished quickly. "Really? That's so sweet of you to think of me that way," Viness replied. They fell silent. Even feigning normalcy was hard.

Aderet gently burnt cadmium while he talked. Dusk's words blurred away into a much less annoying sounding hum. Too quickly it was over and his mouth snapped shut. He probably just shut it--the quick motion simply a byproduct of her cadmium bubble. She kept it up to let him think she really was considering what he'd said. Even without having listened, she got the gist from his frustrated facial expressions: "You're young and inexperienced. Shut up. I'm obviously wiser because I'm older." That was false. Sometimes, the older you were, the less likely you were to accept that the way you lived your life currently was wrong. Not like she was currently applying that diagnoses to a certain man sitting across from her. It was interesting, however, that he hadn't stormed off yet. Aderet took that as a good sign. He obviously saw something in her words, maybe even only subconsciously. If he really were as responsible and powerful as he kept trying to tell her, he would have been long gone. But this strategy didn't seem to be working. It was time to try something new, something more fun for her. She dropped the bubble and smiled like she'd just had a revelation from what he'd said. "You're right. I have no right to reprimand you. I'm foolish and my naiveté prevents me from understanding the reasoning behind your actions."

Leeks or kale? Celery or brussel sprouts? Cucumbers or carrots? Parsnip or asparagus? Turnips or potatoes? Vej-tuh-buhl or vege-tuh-buhl? What is you favorite food group? What's your least favorite food group?

"Interesting," Compile said, standing up. She walked over to the gate and rested her hand on the lock. "Now, I did say I'd let you in if you convinced me, but I also did say that I might be of more help than anyone in there. Which is true. Taking a look at one of the notes would give you nothing beyond a vague message. You'd need them all." The little girl unlocked the gate and slipped inside. The door remained open acutely. "17 Left Right Alley. It's an apartment building in the TUBAist section of Alleycity. Go up to number 54 to find my sister, Freedom. Pry'll be there too, but don't let her deter you. I'll make sure Freedom knows where to go. If the head of the snake, as you call it, weren't so nasty, I'd send you alone. Having a second person, especially one Crow would love to get her hands on, is the only way this can't be categorized as a fool's errand," she said and began to walk away, back towards the house. "Go or come inside and waste time. Either way, shut the gate, will you?" Freedom stored away age. Joints ached and her skin felt less firmly connected to her body. She disliked going that far most of the time. Normally the quicker intuitive jumps weren't worth it. It also freaked some people out to see a teenager age a lot in moments. "Sixteen, ranging greatly in age, probably bound in some form. Definitely not looking the happiest and being herded by a chaos marine who has some trouble looking inspicuous, along with whomever else she's enlisted. Meaning, nowhere civilized. Likely not Scadrial as Crow likely has fewer connections--probably somewhere in Alleycity. Alleys would be too dangerous to roam with that many innocent looking mistings. Even Crow wouldn't be that foolhardy to trust the DA not to take advantage of the opportunity." She released her Invested grip on the metalminds and snapped back to her normal age. Wounds from her own time with Crow felt fresh once more. Freedom carefully navigated to a little older. The pain vanished. "That leaves only one pretty vague place for her to be. Somewhere abandoned in this city or somewhere fancy enough that no one questions what happens there."

Aderet laughed. "And there you go again with that ego! Where did I first run into you?--right, when one of your experiments got loose! Foremost scientists don't do dumb stuff like that. The business claim doesn't mean much in the long run. The Alleyverse is a pretty small world. Try dominating the industry somewhere with actual size: Scadrial, Roshar, take your pick. And the city administration...I think we've already gone over that one in regard to ego. Administrating a city is easy--doing an amazing job at it, is another. "The fact that you immediately dropped into the excuse of 'you don't understand the scale of my responsibilities' isn't helping your case. It means that I hit a nerve and you felt the need to try and discredit me. Unfortunately for you, it only is giving me more evidence of everything I've been saying. You subconsciously believe the world revolves around you and that any poor consequence that occurs as a result of your actions is not your fault. Some might throw you into the category of 'narcissist', but I don't think it quite fits. You do believe you have responsibilities; the problem, however, are that those responsibilities blind you of other more fundamental responsibilities you ought to have. There is only so much a person can do before things start to be neglected." She turned to the drunk who'd spoken. "Still think that was an oof?" @Spaceferring

The older Wereds did their best to shield the eyes of the younger ones while this all happened. Laurel peeked once, before quickly ducking her head back down to be hidden by Golda. Others also did, learning their lessons the hard way. There would be nightmares the next time they slept. Golda pressed her lips together and kept her head held high. She didn't believe in backing down, even when she knew she couldn't do anything to the contrary. Freedom slid her window open. They were a couple flights up, but luckily the fire escape was near her window. She tapped atium, becoming slightly smaller, but at the same time more agile, and carefully swung herself onto the metallike structure. Old fire escapes had been metal. The one on this building wasn't--repairs for the number of times it had gotten torn off in the name of science had gotten too high. The escape creaked under her weight, probably not designed for actual usage. Freedom stayed at the younger age, not wanting to risk extra weight. She descended quickly, leaving caution behind slightly. Atium didn't mean she was invincible, but it did mean that falling could be ignored by storing. Not a great strategy, though at the same time, it was one that could work if necessary. And this time it wasn't necessary. Once on solid ground, Freedom stopped tapping and started running. The night air took away the exertion of the fast pace she kept. About two blocks out she slowed down to catch her breath. No one paid her much attention. Everyone took to their own. The teenage girl darting about was none of their concern. The park was mostly deserted, a byproduct of the later hour. Near the bench where they'd first met was Tels. She checked her watch. Twenty to. They'd both made good time and arrived early. "Hey," she said, not sure where to start. Compile let out a small sigh of relief. All of her not so well thought out plan had revolved around him looking beyong age. And he had. She sat back down. Near enough to hear him, but not so near that it might be taken as a sign of complete trust. "Why you're here," she said. "That can easily lead to why you assaulted the guards and what it is you believe we can do for you."

"That opens up even more possibilities of poor life style." Aderet dropped the Jop finger and instead held up her left index finger. The fabric of the glove wrinkled at the crease where the finger separated itself from the direction of the others. "Jop's wife. What's she to do? Now, with Jop in the Precursors, they'll get some income, but at what price? Every time he leaves, she fears he'll never come back. That did exist before, though now it's more in her face. She knows the risks. And if Jop dies? What then? She's got seven children to take care of. There'd be a pension, I assume. Enough to support eight? I think not." She put down her finger and swept blonde hair out of her face. "I'm not saying Jop made a poor choice, nor am I saying that you're doing a poor job. I run a business--I know sacrifices must be made. At the same time, there's a difference from not doing a poor job and doing a perfect job. Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what we do when they happen. How we handle them and learn from them. So far, your method seems to be distributing that responsibility to others. That's not a way to grow or get better," Aderet said.

Granted. People stop skipping other peoples' wishes, but stop wishing themselves. I wish to not receive a bane for this wish.

At least he asked forgiveness before sounding the question Compile hated the most. "Age is irrelevant," she said, giving him her practiced answer. "I've done and seen more than many have done in the entirety of their lives. That's what matters and because of that, my age has no influence on whether I should or should not be out here alone." Compile took a moment to determine how to continue. "But you are right in assuming that I'm not actually supposed to be here. I ought to be asleep and in bed leaving you here to wait at this gate until someone wakes up and notices you because unfortunately for you, I'm the only person who heard your message that decided it was worth the risk of coming to talk to you." She felt a little slow and tapped zinc. All of what she'd said now seemed irrelevant. She steeled her gaze, a face that didn't really look that scary on a five and a half year old. "Like I said before, convince me and maybe you'll get what you want, or try to skip that step and be sure to recieve a not so friendly welcome. If you are concerned about the ears and eyes out here, I'm sorry, but you should have considered this outcome before you assaulted the guards." Also, any eyes and ears desparate enough to be out at that hour would definitely be desparate enough to find a way to follow them in. It wouldn't make a bit of a difference in the long run. She lessened the amount of zinc she was tapping. "I don't doubt you could easily teleport right past me. I saw you yesterday. The fact you're still here is a nice surprise," she said. The key remained tight in her grip. "Still, it's your choice in the end. I do hope you'll continue this trend of making the right ones, though." --- @Truthless of Shinovar

*wins in capitalization-free-english*

The Moon was very polite when it came to things like that.

So, apparently, the AI is a RWBY fan... ...and is also a stick. This one was pretty random:

Eve resisted the urge to match and return the glare. Instead, she had herself think of Mart and his stories for the Haunt. She smiled genuinely at the woman. "I assure you, we only wish to do our best for the city. The fact you even faintly doubt us is slightly insulting, to be honest. These days, there really aren't enough good people around for us to be able to have infighting," she said, surprising herself in how none of it was fully a lie. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with us. We really appreciate it." She glanced at Alask and Lena, unsure of what they intended to do.

nobody gave Luigi a pet rock.

"We'll sneak in here. There should be a cookie jar waiting in plain sight," the boss said, gesturing to a detailed robbery plan. "Uh, boss," said a subordinate nervously. "I'm not so sure this is a such a great idea." "Nonsense. The TUBAists won't notice a thing and even if they did, it's not like they'd retaliate," the boss said. Subordinates could be unnecessarily cautious sometimes. They didn't seem to realize that doing the boss' dirty work didn't entitle them to real rights. The subordinate showed the boss a video of the Wes vs. Deteca duel. Other subordinates leaned in to get a good view. Upon Wes' untimely demise, they all winced in unison. "That doesn't relate to us," said the boss. He didn't sound as sure of himself, though. He'd always assumed that TUBAists were as docile as meekers. Meekers not rigged to explode, that was. "The duel happened because the guy stole a cookie from TUBA," the subordinate said emphatically. "Oh," the boss said. The subordinate nodded. In the silence, the other subordinates smiled amongst themselves, happy that the heist was going to be called off. "We just won't steal cookies, then," the boss said. "They're a bakery. We'll steal some pies instead." The subordinate sighed. He'd tried.

A passing breeze knocked down her hood. Two lopsided pigtails held up by mismatched scrunchies bounced up, freed from the weight of the fabric. Compile eyed him, yet again, before replying. He was trying not to be hostile, she could tell, and it wasn't his fault that he lacked any knowledge on the state of things. "I don't think we shall enter yet," she said, whirling the key ring around her finger. She kept its spin on the side of caution, well aware of the risk of it flying away. "It's not because I want to be difficult. Rather, you'll find that I could help you more than they could. I doubt you believe that, so here's the deal: convince me that what you want is worthwhile and I will let you in to speak with 'the one in charge'." Or she'd convince him that that was unnecessary, since it really was. Compile closed her hand over the key once more. Standing up, she brushed herself off from shorn grass. Her pants were wet from the morning dew. "Now, what do you want?"

I don't know. I liked the book and I didn't like it. It felt similar to Orson Scott Card's Ender stuff, which put me on edge. I have no problem with books mirroring one another--it was just the first time I'd seen it from Sanderson. Faster than light travel, for instance, felt like (putting Orson Scott Card spoilers in a spoiler to be safe) and the delvers themselves were like the And, yes, both books are about people in space. How much variety can you really get? A lot of characters were flat. I think in trying to hit YA, Sanderson overshot . Everything was straightforward and there weren't many set backs or false leads. It kind of felt like a good childrens' book. Simplistic with interesting worldbuilding. I need to reread Skyward and then Starsight again before passing final judgement, though. Part of the problem might have been the gap between when I read them. Maybe Skyward also had the same sort of feel?

At five in the morning sharp, Compile's alarm vibrated. She quickly shut it off and jumped out of bed, ignoring the chill. Thrity minutes later, Compile stood dressed and equipped with a couple of zinc metalminds, looking out her opened window. Finding something neutral to wear had taken a while for the five and a half year old. She moved away from the window and ducked beneath her bed. She grabbed the small knife shoved in the corner and stuck it in its sheath into her hoodie pocket, hoping it would be an unnecessary safety precaution. Compile carefully removed the screen from the window and set it to the side. The drop to the ground felt father than she knew it to be. Compile landed with the slightest thump. It helped to be young sometimes. Not often, but on occasion a benefit came up. She took her time crossing the length of the yard to the gate. Half and hour, she estimated, judging by the rays of sunlight cutting through the clouds. A key lay clenched in her small fist. Compile inserted it into the lock of the gate, opening the smaller opening. She shut it behind her. The telltale click let her know it was locked once more. Good. There was a likelihood this man was a distraction, a ruse to allow others to sneak in, when someone like her left the door open. She took a seat on the dew covered grass a few feet in front of it, sun rising behind her. Compile pulled up her hood. Not far away, a man was walking in her direction. She spotted the knife venture out for a moment and saw where it returned to. His arm. The weight of the knife in her pocket did little to calm her nerves. He was bigger and definitely had more experience. Him underestimating her age was the only thing going for her if it came to it. Don't let it, she told herself. You've got this. Totally. "Can we talk like adults instead of sneaking about ad infinitum?" Compile called out to him calmly. "It actually accomplishes much more, much faster."

The way he just absorbed all the information calmly amazed Freedom. As it was, she knew she barely was holding herself together. That's because you're reacting like a teenager, she realized, immediately storing away a couple years of age. Logic and reason became less of a struggle to reach. Freedom checked the time. The shorter hour hand balanced halfway between the eight and the nine. She added a cushion time of fifteen minutes, in case he was farther from there than she. "Remember that park bench where we met?" she said. "Can you get there by nine?" She scrounged about for a paper and pen, finding them, finally, right where they belonged, on a shelf. On it, she scrawled a quick note telling anyone who found it not to freak out at her not being there. --- "You, Laurel, are stronger than you think," Golda whispered in her little sister's ear. The girl's eyes were red and she knew her to be near tears. "The best thing you can do is show that strength to the world." Crow and the marine traded blows, but she stayed focused on Laurel. Until directly addressed, that was. "Hey, fleshlings! You got any clever insults for this dumb brute? I'm running out of them!" the marine called in their direction. Viness and Tanel shared a look. They had plenty, but they didn't want to defile the minds of the young ones or endanger them further. "We promised to be good," Golda replied when none of her siblings dared to. "And so we shall." Branch, not really caring one way or the other, stuck out his tongue and once again tried Pulling on Crow.