Rushu42

Welcome! I'd definitely recommend that you read an entire series before switching. Otherwise it gets a bit difficult to keep track of Sanderson's tangled plot lines. Of course, if you're not enjoying SA and you want to read Mistborn instead, that's another story. (Literally, in fact.) It's all up to you, though.

"Ah," said Aln. "An oligarchy. With power derived purely from control of the military. A military which, might I add, will have recently burned down the most populated part of the Alleyverse and probably killed nearly everybody in it." She sighed, moderating her tone before he could get annoyed. "How are you planning to avoid rioting and rebellion? Are you just going to kill anyone who raises a fuss? It's hardly a sustainable practice."

Aln made another mark in her notebook. "So, once you've conquered the Alleyverse, what's the plan? What's the Alleycity going to be like? What about the government?"

I'll have Aln ask; I wasn't clear on that either. Also, apologies for the formatting of my posts; my phone is difficult about these things. Aln thanked him, then asked, "What exactly does this mist do? And why do you want it returning every night?"

Aln, though slightly taken aback at John's barrage of questions, quickly wrote down what he told her. Then she looked up and responded, "Yes, I'm the leader. And it would be wonderful if you could spare my home. Thank you." She tapped her pen thoughtfully on the table. "I frequently hear about this Vortex that you mentioned, but I've never been able to glean any specifics. You couldn't enlighten me, could you?"

Aln dropped her spanreed and let herself be handcuffed. Then she looked at him and said, "I'm the leader of the Scholar's Guild. I was investigating and recording the important events in this conflict." Her eyes lit up. "Your monstrosities are really quite fascinating. Are they made with Hemalurgy?"

I would say that there isn't really anything worse in Stormlight than in Mistborn, in terms of appropriateness or violence. I wouldn't really say the same for Warbreaker, so you might want to wait a bit on that one, but Stormlight should be fine. It's a lot longer and generally more complex, and it's possible she won't be able to follow it as well, but like Young Bard said, I don't think there's much harm in trying.

Aln sat behind the desk, gazing around the room. Her fingers went instinctively to the worn spanreed in her pocket, although she knew that, given the aluminium around her, it would surely be useless. She had, unfortunately, been in similar situations before, and she knew that the best thing to do at the moment would be to wait and observe. So she did.

As part of a contest with my dad, I have to post a short story online. I had one week to write this. Please be kind. Without further ado, I present Error 404: Universe Not Found. Tim’s computer gave a pleasant Bing! as he pressed his finger to the power button. His squeaky office chair, predictably, squeaked as he sat down and jiggled the mouse. The screen of the computer, however, remained firmly blank. He frowned and moved it again. Still nothing. Frustrated, he mashed several random keys of the computer. A moment later the screen began to fade into white. Then, with a thoroughly unpleasant noise that was rather reminiscent of fingernails on a whiteboard, a large block of densely packed text appeared on the screen. Tim scrunched his brow. That was odd. Normally the screen would jolt rather suddenly to his monitor’s backdrop, a generic picture of a boring bit of ocean. He didn’t know much about computers, though; perhaps he had gotten some kind of an update? He tried aimlessly waving the mouse about for a moment. Not much happened. Tim peered closer at the text. It appeared to be mainly comprised of indecipherable scribbles that gave him a general feeling of unease the longer he looked at them. This was clearly not good. Perhaps his computer had been hit with some sort of virus. He tentatively poked a few letters on his keyboard. There was a strained pause, during which Tim was sure that nothing would happen. Then, unexpectedly, the language on the screen changed to English. Tim blinked. It took a moment for anyone to realize what had happened. The transition was seamless. But all around the world, conversations trailed off, street signs were squinted at, and books dropped to the floor. The entire world was suddenly speaking, reading, and writing in English. Tim scanned the text. It appeared to be some kind of code, though of what, Tim couldn’t tell. He began to scroll down the page. On a whim, he changed a random number, then hit “enter”. Red. The sky was suddenly red. People everywhere were pointing this out to each other, as if only they could see it. “Look. It’s red! Bright red! It was blue a second ago, I swear!” And they were all speculating, in English, about what it could possibly mean. Tim sat back, disappointed. Nothing had changed. He glanced around his dimly lit basement, stared at the screen for a minute, then sighed and pulled out his phone. He dialed the helpline number that was discreetly printed on the side of his monitor, and waited. Three rings later, he was explaining his problem to a very passive aggressive IT employee. And then he was on hold for what was clearly about to be at least several hours. Tim sighed again and put his phone on his desk. He drummed his fingers for a moment. The code on the screen sat temptingly, daring him to try something. He considered it for a few moments. Then he reached forward and slowly highlighted a block of text at random. Then he hit delete. The text vanished. In downtown New Delhi a large apartment building suddenly disappeared. The contents thereof tumbled to the street below, and pandemonium ensued. Several buildings adjacent to the first began to behave erratically, seeming almost fuzzy, like static. The area was immediately evacuated. An error message began to flash on Tim’s screen. It gave several seemingly arbitrary numbers, and beneath was a sentence comprised almost entirely of words he didn’t understand. Tim looked around guiltily, although what he was looking for, he wasn’t sure. Then his eyes drifted back to the screen. At the bottom of the message box were two buttons. One was marked “Undo”, the other “Ignore”. He clicked. Suddenly the building was back. A very confused team of police officers had begun to investigate the scene, but they leaped backward as the structure reappeared. Some angry shouting ensued, and several people began to pray. Tim looked at his phone again. Mind numbing music was still softly emanating from it, as if to remind him that the call hadn’t been disconnected. The people on the other end were simply ignoring him. He glanced at his watch, then at the computer. Then he tapped the “Escape” button. A list of figures on a screen at NASA headquarters blinked, then changed. Satellite pictures began to gradually distort. Scientists began to murmur as readings began to shift. It took a few minutes before someone realized what must have happened. “Sir,” she said to her boss, “Look at this.” Her pointed finger indicated a line of data. “There’s only one way to explain this. We’re somehow getting farther away from the sun.” Tim grumbled under his breath as his screen remained unchanged. He fiddled with a pen on his desk, shooting periodic glares at his phone. A few people began to notice the temperature change. It was getting colder, and rain began to turn to sleet, snow to ice. At NASA, astrophysicists were scrambling for a cause, some reason for why the Earth would suddenly escape from its orbit around the sun. And the red sky was only confusing matters. Many believed that it was the end of the world. Tim frowned. Was it colder? He reminded himself for the umpteenth time to fix his basement heater. He rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying not to listen to the terrible music coming out of his cell phone. He looked back at the screen. He remembered something his brother had shown him, suddenly, and his fingers found three keys. Ctrl-Alt-Del. He pressed them. And all was gone. The program had unexpectedly crashed. All that was left was a massive flat plane, blue, stretching into eternity. And somewhere in the center of infinity was a few lines of text in small white print. It read Error 404: Universe not found.

Aln followed quickly, taking in her surroundings as she did so. Then she cocked her head. Either it's the aluminum, or the Alleystorm just broke, she realized, and her thoughts went back to those still fighting on the roof. I wonder how that will affect the outcome.

Aln made another notation in the notebook. "Could you tell me more about this Dark Phoenix? How is it related to the other, and why was it trying to destroy PlasmaCore?"

Aln stared at him. Storms, but I'm finding it hard not to take sides, she thought. "Could you give me a basic rundown of your Bureau of...Villiany, please? Perhaps some of its history?"

Aln wrote this down, muttering something as she did so. She narrowed her eyes at the cracks in his face, but made no comment on them, instead saying, "Good to know, Mr. Redleaf, thank you. So, do you plan on destroying everything and everyone, or just Guilds that oppose you?"

Aln retrieved her notebook from her pocket and opened it, readying a pen. "I believe that, currently, PlasmaCore's army is attacking the city, destroying anything in its path. What exactly do you hope to gain from this?" She asked, looking at John. @RayOfSunshine

That's right. He told me that, right after I was thrown into this helicopter, Aln remembered. She followed his gaze nervously, but made no move toward a chair. Instead, she tried to calm herself, with little success. What am I doing here? A part of her shrieked. I'm a scholar. This is a war zone! I should be back in my library, buried in some obscure text. "No," said her quiet spren, directly into her mind. "Remember why you came to the Alleyverse." Aln sighed, nodded, and focused on her work, banishing emotions to the background. She looked up at the soldier once more, hoping that none of her previous panic had shown on her face. "So, um... John," she said to him, "I'm compiling a history, and I was hoping to get both sides of the story. Would you mind answering a few questions? You don't have to reveal anything confidential, of course."

"Noooooooo! My brownies!" I yell this as I dash toward the exit to escape from the oncoming tide of water. Before I leave, however, I fire a last shot back at Truthless, permanently disabling his grenades. Then I vanish through the doorway and out into the night.

Aln swallowed. "Where are we going?" she asked, stopping herself from reaching for her spanreed. She couldn't hear the sound of fighting over the spinning of the rotors, and she didn't dare check out the window. Instead, she just focused on the scene around her, determined to remember as much as possible to later record in her notebook.

Since I'm not wearing a vest, this has no effect. Rather than retaliate, however, I simply smile and watch the chaos while eating my fourth brownie.

I observe Truthless of Shinovar's attempt to start a game of Laser Tag, and pull out a specially prepared laser tag sniper rifle. From my position beneath the table, I carefully and quickly eliminate anyone wearing a vest. Then I take a third brownie from the plate.

What's the difference between a squashed squirrel in the road, and a squashed viola in the road?

Luckily, the aluminum lining in my clothing prevents me from being forcibly intoxicated. This enables me to watch with some amusement the antics of the others in the room. I take another brownie.

I show up, despite not having been on the forum during the date the party is celebrating. I walk over to the snack table (there's a snack table now) and seat myself underneath it. My hand snakes upward and grabs a brownie from a plate, and I nibble on it as I observe the others in the room.

Welcome! The Stormlight Archives is my favorite as well. I have to say, his worldbuilding is incredible. Who would you say is your favorite character?

Welcome to the Shard! Who is your favorite character?

Aln started at him, breath coming fast. She was still unsteady from being unexpectedly tossed like a bag of grain, but very hesitantly shook his hand. "Um, I'm Aln. I'm just a scholar. I'm not on anyone's side." Although, she added to herself, I'd really prefer that you don't burn down my library.