Elend Venture

"Yeah, most of the guilds are hiring pretty much all the time. Feel free to look around, best to see them all before you commit yourself to one. That being said, these are dangerous times to not have anyone backing you up - then again this city never has been very tame," He laughed, polishing the bar with a clean rag.

"Lucky thing is, we've got rooms upstairs. They are fairly comfortable, and only fifty chips a night." He nodded, moving back toward the bar, looking back. "We are fairly centrally located too, so whichever bakery service you might choose it will be within a fairly traversable distance. So what do you think?" He said, rasing his eyebrow again. @Soulbinder

Damon pulled a rag out of his satchel and leaned over to the next table to wipe it's leg, not looking at it's occupants. "Well, the Dark Alley makes the best cookies in town, though if you were hoping for something well, more safe some folks do prefer The Underground Baker's Association. You sure I can't get you anything to drink? Whiskey has a high sugar content."

"Muffins, no. But we do have chouta, I would serve it with a sweet sauce, like one puts on woman's dishes. We also have Scottish shortbread, for that matter." He drawled in a mid-range tenor which had a mild resonance in the high ceilinged room. He waited while she had a brief but awkward conversation with one of the other patrons of the bar. He cleared his throat and spat to the side. Unfortunately, there was a table to the side, a table with a blonde girl in an immaculate blue dress and a Singer chatting. The phlegm he had hawked flew far, glistening in the lantern light, and - Aw Rusts, thought Damon. The phlegm spattered wetly on the table leg in the echoing room, only inches from the woman's hand. He heard it well from where he was. I hope they don't notice . . . though little chance of that. Damnation that was loud!

Granted, but they have the king's shilling in them, and a press gang knocks you out and takes you onto a British man-of-war ship. I wish I had an angel.

Damon saw a young woman open the heavy door and stride in. He hadn't seen her before, perhaps she had come to the city recently. He hadn't seen the Singer who'd entered a short while before either, though he doubted that they were together as she had entered a short while after them. Damon slung his coach gun, adjusted his duster, and walked over to the pretty young lady's table, pulling a pen and ledger out of the satchel at his side. "Good day, ma'am, what can I get you on this evening?" He asked, raising his left eyebrow with a subtle smirk. Sharp, curved ones that sat over deepset eyes the hard, dark, green of an ancient lodgepole pine on a mountainside. He flipped his pin and leaned on the free chair at the table looking expectantly at her.

His pubic hair? Okay, okay, I know what you really meant

Someone had used division on Elend. He was however, feeling better than ever before and subsequently used his telekinesis to chuck the anti-matter at Hero to save the dark oculators. He restored the atmosphere shortly thereafter.

As it turned out, the ressurection of Jell incidentally also ressurected Elend.

I am somewhat paying the devil's advocate here, but there is not necessarily a real or even palpable event that is 'falling in love'. What we call 'falling in love' is a generally childish and immature infatuation. Loving someone is in short putting the wellbeing of the person you care for before your own, enjoying being around them simply because they are there, etc. you all most likely understand that. The giddy feeling people often get when say, going on a date with someone they don't know well is but infatuation and lust, not love. One can not simply 'fall' in love in a relatively short time span. It often takes years. So what quantity of times could you so called 'fall in love'? Being that we have already dismissed the idea that the concept actually exists outside of fairy tails, we should instead discuss if there is a finite amount of times that one could become infatuated with someone as well as the limit of times that you could actually love someone. To start with foolish obsession; This will be easier to develop as a younger adult or post pubescent child. This is partially due to not yet having developed a jaded and cynical wisdom that allows them to see the world for what it really is. It is more largely a factor of their extremely high libido, which shall begin to taper off as they reach their late thirties to early fifties. So for one thing you are limited by time, as you appear to only have about thirty-five years. (That being said, most of the foolish infatuation takes place in the adolescent years, most likely due to the wisdom and cynicism I brought up earlier.) My conclusion? One can always so called 'fall in love' so long as they are (excuse my blunt and crass terminology) appropriately horny.* I really couldn't say for the quantity of times that you could actually love someone, however I should think that it would vary greatly, depending upon the psyche of the individual in question, though it does outwardly appear to become more difficult the more you fail. Unfortunately, I altogether lack a great deal of experience in the latter field, for I have loved, and I have been fond and childishly obsessed with people, but near seventeen years is not nearly enough time to draw any full conclusions about such relatively deep topics. Such being the case, most of what I have said of actual love is learned from the narration of older and more experienced individuals that I have conversed upon the topic with. *Unless of course, one mentally can't get over one's past relationships, in which case, it is a closer situation to my explanation of the quantity of times you could really love someone, which is found in the following paragraph.

I can pistol shoot about nine minutes of angle and fence Lecküchner Messer as well as a bit of Venetian Rapier for what it's worth. I also sing and play the keyboard, but I wouldn't necessarily call those unique or weird skills.

*Shifts eyes toward Rashek*

394: Don't bother bringing any weapons. There's usually a stronger mentor-type character to defend you in your first fight. After he's busted a few heads you are advised to seize a sword from one of your fallen enemies and you shall in all likelihood either be extremely skilled with it by nature, or you will be terrible with it and are advised to put it down now and never touch a sword again. If you don't you shall end up being forced to try and save your mentor with one later in the future and fail. His death is inevitable but it is best to postpone it for as long a duration as possible.

No, that's Tangled.

Hello all, this is (as the name well implies) a club for fencers of all disciplines and skill levels to gather within.

*Never tells a lie* (Well mostly, anyway.)

https://www.bugasalt.com/collections/eradication-devices/products/bug-a-salt-3-0-black-fly-edition?gclid=Cj0KCQjw9tbzBRDVARIsAMBplx_Sh5B3surIxKewxV-qtrs5-1t16Ab4Wzx-V2WbmTt55-6DewaXC-0aAuf_EALw_wcB

Fair enough, the cliché is a bit of an overstatement.

Moash dying. He did nothing wrong, whatever some of y'all say. Adolin to become a Knight Radiant. I feel that it would upset the balance of things for every single Kholin to become a Radiant, especially being that his current position and personality create a very satisfying and interesting dynamic between POV characters. I hope that the reunion of Vivenna and Vasher shan't take place off screen. That would be rather disappointing indeed. I would also loathe to see more than a few POV characters offed, although death and failure are part of reality and I feel that they do make a book feel more authentic; Not everyone can have a happy ending.

Narrator Elend pulled out anti-police cannons and went in guns blazing. He had previously sucked the atmosphere of the planet into a large underground tank and used his telekinesis to make the ball of anti-matter levitate about half a kilometer in the air as to not be effected by touching any matter whatsoever. Unfortunately, this meant that anyone without unique powers or supplied air would perish painfully within minutes.

Elend attempted to convince Ene to cough the backup back up.

I imagined the plate to look like 15th Century Gothic armor but with all around coverage and many smaller interlocking plates instead of mail. And perhaps a great helm instead of a sallet. So a bit like this but with a dull grey sheen and stormlight shining through the seams: I imagined the blades to look like longer, broader, longswords and groß messers however colored in flat anodized aluminium-like shades, for example dull reds, blues, greens, silvers, tans, etc. Much like more massive versions of these weapons. Still elegant but far reaching and possessed of some heft. In colors such as these.

The revived [REDACTED], thoroughly spiked and possessed by Ruin, broke Ene out of her prison. He then put his thumb on his nose and wiggled his fingers at RR in a gesture of disdain.

Four F-16s dropped down around the flying taxi as it flew to escape TST. Elend was flying the lead aircraft. He threw a message in a bottle out of his rolled back canopy and into the open window of the taxi. It read like this: Y'all on the taxi thingy: You have neared the edge of TST airspace. I am afraid we may have to shoot you down if you carry onward. Turn back now and we shall escort you to an airfield near where the unfortunate [REDACTED] was first entombed. He waved to Ene as she surfed away on her chocolate chip cookie.