Silva

When you consistently have a mile long list of books on hand for friends to read and always drag them over to a certain bookshelf every time you're in a library. And when you look for some Sanderson books in a used bookstore, don't find any as per usual, then happily think "Good. No one was stupid enough to give them away."

.אתה משקר, זה אמר שאני אנצח. *ניצחה בעברית כי היא יכולה*

I'm going to do my best to completely and utterly keep my religious reasonings out of this. There is no point in talking about a world in which good and evil do not exist because of the repercussions that could cause. The same must be said about free will. Without either of them, why do we have society? Why do we care? Think about it--there is an innate wanting in humans to be accepted by the community. When people are accepted they feel good. Couldn't that be considered good? Is lack of it bad? Does it even matter? What matters is this, whether they are a thing or not is irrelevant. Our society could not function without established rules of what is okay and what is not. Without morality or a belief in human accountability there is literally no reason for anything we do. Therefore, we must act as though they are a thing, whether or not that is actually the case, unless a better method can be thought of.

Viness ignored the surroundings and her own pain. Years of burning and flaring tin allowed her to dull it out. In comparison to some experiences, this felt like nothing. And in any case, she was working to become a medic. If she couldn't work with a little distraction, she might as well give up the field. She focused on the current health risks facing them. The youngest two, thankfully, did not have open wounds in the unsanitary environment--the rest of them, even the twins, did. She knew the heating of the brand must have killed some, if not most, of the harmful bacteria or other pathogens present. Obviously, not all were gone. In ideal circumstances, a brand could take anywhere from six to twelve months to fully heal. Judging from their current situation, these would take much longer, excluding the high risk of infection. "Don't touch it yourself or touch it to anything without asking me first," she muttered into Tanel's ear. "Pass it on." Slowly, the Wereds got the message. Crow, focused on fighting the dying Space Marine, shouldn't have noticed a thing. --- Branch Pulled weakly at whatever metal Crow was wearing. --- Compile sat on the floor, wracking her brain. Anthony Nightshade had yet to respond, though now that she thought of it, there was a high likelihood he didn't know anything at all. Nope. That wasn't an option. Maybe he didn't knowingly know anything, but he did have one useful thing. The way his thought process worked. It was clear that Crow was acting as Hellbent once had. The problem was, Compile didn't know how to think like a murderous killer or know anyone who did. She only had what might be the next best thing. She picked up Precious' phone and sent another message to all the Anthony Nightshades in the phonebook. Say you kidnapped 16 children and young adults in an attempt to get revenge for their cousins escaping servitude of your boss under your watch--what would you do next? -C.A. @Ookla the Dog Hater

"I don't believe niceties ever really are a waste of time, but thank you," Light said. "This never had to be your fight too. All of you have done much more than you even should have felt you needed to. We forget that a lot, my family, but we are grateful." She checked that her door was shut tight before beginning. "A former psychopath's former assistant kidnapped my cousins and killed my aunt and uncle in an attempt to make me and my siblings return to her to be her slaves. She got thugs to drop off strange messages pretty much saying so. "The rest of my family, besides one sister, is on Scadrial and probably freaking out and not going to do much. Meaning, any actual progress on getting my cousins away from Crow is on me," Freedom said. "And that's the trouble. Just a standard day in the life of Freedom Acute." The triplets looked at one another. Viness shook her head slightly at them, warning them not to be stupid. "You asked if we had any 'last words'," Semb said. "And we do. Eleven of them, including one compound word," Terra said. "Life doesn't just start anew. It only continues down different paths," Honeed said. Golda watched Crow, not daring to do anything more blatant. Exactly how mentally unstable she was had become extremely evident by her treatment of the visitor. It was her way completely or no way at all. Unless someone ever managed to make her see reason and realize exactly how pathetic she'd become. Kidnapping children to get revenge. Who was she? A lowly thug?

"...fabrial studies hasn't been very effective without a fabrial for the children to study. I've been losing sleep over it..." the teacher said, pulling back Eve's attention. She kept her face as clear from the emotion caused by that statement as possible. No fully working fabrials. That complicated things. They couldn't get in, grab something, and scoot. It was fitting, Eve realized, that when she finally decided to give something Invested a chance again, it didn't function. Though, there hadn't been any mention of motivators. Did the "self-righteous" guild think the devices too cruel? Honestly, she wouldn't have been all that surprised.

Don't think you can just get away with making faces at us! *sticks her tongue out at the cat*

Edit: A potato.

The Wered's descended the stairs warily, none willing to risk anything. As it was they knew their situation was pretty bleak. Only a few of their metals could be found in traces in food, and even that stayed an extremely small amount. Tin, cadmium, chromium, iron, copper, zinc, and minor amounts of aluminum might be available, depending on what they were fed, if they were fed at all. None stood out as particularly practical metals. Brass, pewter, or steel would have been nicer. They hadn't said a word unless prompted. They kept silent, knowing that speech wouldn't help. Nothing they would do would. Golda went last, attention torn between Branch and Fog and the slight sound of laughter below. She tried to give her little brother an encouraging smile which ended up more like a wince. Even cheer began to be hard to feign. Light shook her head. "I don't think so. Changing my answer would only make them worse off." To deny Crow something she knew she shouldn't have was one thing. To deny her what she knew she should have was another. "But go ahead alone. Use your brutal inhumane methods to try and get useful answers since there's definitely not a nicer way to get information," she finished sarcastically. An unexpected edge lightly laced her tone. Its appearance startled her. Since when was she a person who would talk that way? Say things in a manner that wasn't intended to be at least a little polite? Since recently, she realized, when life tried to shift down a completely different path. Compile watched and listened from a window. She tapped zinc to attempt at catching what he said. All she got fully was that he'd be back in the morning. Good. She thought. I'll try to be there to meet him. The last thing we need is another unintentional enemy. Then she hopped over to her bed. On it was a phone, Precious'. She'd asked to borrow it for a project, and Precious knowing her sister, suspected the true reason making her all the more likely to lend it. What do you know about the Space Marine Crow? I need some information to save lives. She typed up in a text, signing it C.A.. After looking over it twice and not coming up with something better to write, she pressed a button, sending it off individually to every number for an Anthony Nightshade she'd found. Hopefully one at least would be the right one. She already had alternative plans--this one just seemed the simplest. @Ookla the Dog Hater

We needed a thread like this. What'd I be? The poor puppy...

Not anymore. https://xkcd.com/391/

Ene, just play along, but don't believe it. FT really is the soulcasted one. He doesn't understand what happened. Obsessive role-playing is perfectly fine. So are the other things he mentioned in that list. In fact, those are simply normal symtoms of being a Sharder.

Got it. So you're saying that you are not an Ookla. You are not just any old Ookla. You are [insert Ookla the [insert type here] here] which is very different. All Ooklas are unique and individual beings and we can't get confused and call them all by the same name, Ookla. Thanks, FT. It's really nice of you to value the individual this way.

@Ookla the Very Handsome

"Unfortunately," she said, replacing the paper to its hiding spot on a shelf. Harmony only knew what Pry would do if she thought Freedom had guys' phone numbers. "Do you have a minute or should I call back later? Trouble decided to show up, but it probably can't get much worse by waiting a couple of hours or a night." Freedom stood up and paced the length of the room. It occured to her that even with Tels, she hadn't a clue of where to start. Crow's note was too convoluted. Violence is a terrible thing. Especially when it affects you. There is nothing worse, in the eyes of many people, then Violence towards a loved one. Trying to help, A person of abnormal strength. She didn't know whether grammar mistakes could be dismissed or part of a code. Or even if she had all of the pieces. Something felt off. Very off. Why, of all things, did Crow mention violence in her note? --- "I'm coming with you," she said plainly. "Even if they're dead ends for obvious information, they might know something else. A name. She doesn't go by Crow in the underground circles or we'd have found her already."

Maybe because most don't have more obviously dangerous people in their lives. Freedom mulled, but didn't argue. It did ring a little true. She herself used to be a lot more uncomfortable around Lusk and that was with a higher likelihood of not being killed because of her Investiture. Someone without that little assurance wouldn't try to see passed the position. The risks were too steep. "What would you have done if you hadn't found another Atium Ferring?" she asked. It was a question that she wanted an answer to for practical reasons. Feruchemy and Allomancy were weakening at every generation. She used to live on Scadrial and had never met another Atium Ferring. The odds of more out there would keep decreasing as the years went on. It was possible she wouldn't ever find one in her lifetime, extended or not. "Would there have been a book written about why they should take advantage of their Investiture to drink underage, and hope it would end up in the right hands?"

Light found the first one. After a long day of arguments, all she wanted to do was lay down and scream internally at the universe. Something out there was set against her because she couldn't even do that in peace. Her teeth gritted when she saw and read the note. Despite the somewhat vague signature, it was clear who wrote it. She crumpled it in her hand and ran downstairs. --- All of the others had notes as well, they discovered to their dismay. "Al-lee-ki-tee!" Eon sounded out his note slowly. At the end he looked around grinning. No one smiled back. Their parents, Nola and Inden debated whether or not to send Freedom hers. Some Acutes shared them amongst themselves, trying to search for clues. Only Compile looked at the bigger picture, piecing together the bolded letters. Dove Manor, Alleycity. So simple and obvious, but she kept it to herself. Already she was plotting and trying to think it through. Brethren and Lineage both read and reread their notes, disgusted equally. Warmer simply sat in a corner. Nola had taken his note and Eon's soon after. "Fine," Inden said, finally giving in. "We'll send her a copy. But we're also giving her express instructions not to do anything dumb." "Fine," Nola said. The house was tense that night. Security measures increased more than ever. No one slept well. And then in the morning they got the news. Old Mrs. Fronly was the one who came. She pulled Nola and Inden outside to talk. They arranged funeral arrangements as quickly as possible. The service itself felt off--no Wered children present. The Acutes knew where they were. Precious' note all but spelled it out. Crow had taken their cousins hostage. Compile still just shook her head. Crow really was nothing but predictable. She remained silent, keeping her thoughts firmly inside of her head. --- Pry wanted to put Freedom under house arrest again when she saw the note. "Not happening," Freedom said. "The fact the note was placed on my pillow on Scadrial is proof that Crow doesn't know where I am. I'm safest moving around like always." Eventually Pry relented. It pained her to be out of a danger that affected the whole rest of her family. Later when Freedom sat alone in her room, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. Then she punched the number into her phone. As it rang, she prayed that she wasn't making a mistake. @Ookla the Imperial --- "Are we going to do anything? Or do we just continue to wait for her to play her cards before us first?" Light asked. She stared somewhat blankly at a spot of bark on a tree in front of them. @Grey Knight --- Compile sat on the kitchen floor. Tapping zinc, she quickly skimmed through page after page of Alleycity phonebooks until she finally found the name she was looking for. Anthony Nightshade. She memorized the phone numbers and addresses given in each one, then shut the books and put them all away. Problems could be solved in many ways and Compile intended to find as many of them as possible. Anything to avoid her Plan A.

It was also an animal with bright pink fur.

"We hope Georgia carelessly trips an alarm before we do. That way they're all so focused on her that they miss us entirely," Eve joked, keeping her voice low and hearable only to those nearby, despite the empty hallways. "But otherwise, find the closest exit, door or window, and jump if necessary. Land on your feet and keep going until you lose any tails in poorer sections of the city. Only head back once you know its clear and if it doesn't, find one of TUBA's bakeries and wait it out. They probably wouldn't dare to try anything in another guild's territory, so just take advantage of that." She shrugged and took a pancake as they walked. "Or just get caught and play the 'innocent civilian doing what they need to survive' card. A place like this might actually let a person go if they hear a sob story, if only to keep up an appearance." Hoping no one would get caught was all nice and well until someone did. Alask was smart to plan for the worst. Though if it came to it, nothing they planned would work. The people who worked there had the advantage of location. The thieves would be like mice being chased by a cat in a labrinth.

"On the first matter, we are in agreeance, simply running in circle and trying to find issue when the is none. On the other, I disagree," she said. She held up one finger on her right hand. "Let's say this is Jop. Jop has seven kids and a sick wife. Jop was raised in a broken home. His mother died in childbirth and his father was in jail for murder before he even reached adolescence. Jop dropped out of school when he was seven and has never had a single good role model. All Jop knows how to do is steal." Aderet held up a finger on her gloved safehand. "Now let's say this is Roe. Roe is the head of the organization selling highly addictive drugs. Roe doesn't need highly educated workers. He finds Jop, here, begging on the streets and offers him a job. Jop, unable to find any truly legal work, accepts. With this new income, Jop is able to feed his seven kids and pay for his wife's medication. "Would you arrest Jop for doing the only thing he can to survive without resorting to aid or loans which will sink him into an evergrowing hole of debt?" Aderet asked. She moved her other hand off of the table, but left the Jop finger on her right hand up. "Has Jop done anything any of us wouldn't have done in his situation? Can we truly blame him for it? "I'm not saying everyone is Jop, but we can't simply categorize anyone involved in illegal business as immoral. Not all laws can be moral, no matter how hard you try."

"You're all fine stating that you are "fully aware of them selling illegally" and just need proof," Aderet said, using his words back at him. "You've also convinced yourself that you need to let the proof come to you. "I know what authoritarian regimes are. I know the difference between justice and tyranny." The edge up her mouth turned up in a slight smile. "I also know that they're all made up terms by humanity to make us feel better about ourselves. There's a time for everything under the sun and these terms we've created have prevented many a good person from doing what they ought to have done."

"But why wait?" she said simply. Aderet meant the question in a very specific way. Why wait for them to slip up? Why give them the illusion of getting away? Why be dependent on them? Why not do something yourself? It was the point she was trying to drill into his head over and over again. The only way to get something done properly is to do it yourself. Aderet's resolution to get Dusk to understand followed that very logic. It was very possible time would teach him, but it was also possible that he'd learn that too late. And as she lacked anything better to do, she might as well be the one to--one priveliged person to another. She watched him, lightly burning cadmium to cut down the time spent waiting for a response.

Peanuts packaging packages, that is. Only the packaging peanuts of that sort are very dangerous; the white foam things that come in packages are mostly harmless.

"Interesting strategy," Aderet said. "But quite faulty. Now, instead of selling it legally, they'll use black markets to distribute their product without paying taxes. And now, as an illegal item, they'll likely gain even more buyers because people migrate to what they aren't able to have. Meaning that while at the moment they might be angry at you, in the long run you've really assisted them. Unless they are complete idiots and don't realize how to navigate the underground." She glanced back at the stragglers from Dusk's meeting. "They seem somewhat intelligent and I would wager they've been expecting something like this. Likely they're already involved with some black market dealers despite the fact that what they sell is legal. So," she tapped her fingers against the wooden table, "you actually have hurt their business. Now they'll either have to keep up a charade of trying to sell despite the new taxes or completely drop the act and turn fully to illegal distribution. In which case you ought to have someone follow them to track down that dealer. If suddenly everyone who does business with them ends up behind bars, no one will and they'll have nothing left to gain by selling drugs. They would be forced to turn to more savory means of income "Or you leave them be and let them sell their technically legal item illegally by doing nothing. This way no one begins to get the impression of a dictatorial government presence and decides to revolt. You see how nothing is clean cut? Every decision has so many different results, some good, some bad. Nothing can ever be determined lightly while still be intelligent about it." She shrugged. "Most of the world doesn't even acknowledge that, yet it continues to run. So, again, is even deciding whether or not to think through decisions worth it?"