The Awakened Salad

Cookies and cream with rainbow sprinkles please 

8 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“And what help would that be, gurl?” He asked, looking down and tilting his head to one side. “And I’m curious to what this whole little scandaffle is that’s goin’ on right now.”

Before Ana could open her mouth, the thief was already returning the bag to the girl. Maybe he wasn’t so dangerous after all. 
The girl turned and offered the large man —obviously a sailor, from the way he spoke — a haircut. Ana frowned in thought. Of course! She was a hairdresser!  However, she couldn’t help but notice how her face had brightened when Ana mentioned free food. It was be a stretch, to get free food for one person, let alone two. But the sailor had seemed willing to help, maybe she could ask a different favour. And the hairdresser... she knew all too well what it was like to go hungry. She would try, at least. 
She waited until the hairdresser had finished speaking, then interjected, “I can’t promise anything, but I can try and get food for both of you. There’s a food vendor I’ve worked for before. I might be able to convince him to give you two a free meal, as my pay.” 
Truthfully, she would’ve loved a good haircut. It had been years since she’d had one, but money was scarce, and she couldn’t afford to waste it on frivolities. 
To the sailor, she said “I was originally going to ask you to get her bag from the thief,” she glanced at the thief, still standing within earshot. “But that was resolved.” She thought for a moment. There was something she could use help with. “However, if you’re willing, there is one other thing....”

I would not bow before a stick, but I will before an ice cream man. You do Harmony's work, great distributor of confectionery goodness.

As soon as she walked over to the pair, Ana's resolve faltered. The boy, although looking around the same age as her, seemed much more dangerous. What was she walking into? I am not scared, she told herself. Suddenly, the girl replied.

22 hours ago, Sorana said:

Ophelia turned her head to see a girl, slightly younger than herself approach them. "I don't know." She replied truthfully, and then smiled when she saw the beautiful strands of the girl's hair. It was short, and it needed a good cut, but it looked healthy and strong. "You've got wonderful hair." she complimented her, completely forgetting about the boy for a short moment. "I would suggest to shorten a few strands here and there, to give it a little more volume, and you can easily highlight your eyes and cheeckbones if we trim the strands around your face." Falling silent she looked at her hands, realized that this was probably the last thing the girl had wanted to hear.

"Sorry." she muttered and focused on the situation at hand again. The boy. "My bag, please. I need it. I can't find a job without it." And without a job she had no food, no place to stay. She had nothing. Nothing but a spare set of cloths and this bag.

Ana blinked in shock as the girl turned back to the boy and began asking for her bag. "Thank you," she said softly, more to herself than anyone. She reached up absentmindedly and ran a hand through her short hair, before letting it rest back at her side. That compliment seemed to belong to another place, another time. Ana shook her head, refocusing. Still, something inside of her felt emboldened, the stranger's words buoying her up with courage. 

This boy - he seemed to be a thief. Ana considered her options. She could walk away, but that would do no good. The thief would still be there, and he would probably run off with the girl's bag. She had quick hands, but they were used to sewing and mending, not prying bags away from thieves. She could try and chase him, but she was sure she was no match for a pickpocket, who was likely skilled in avoiding pursuit. She shook her head, straining for something, anything, that would help. Just then, a man approached the group. 

21 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“Aye,” he said, walking towards them. “Y’ wouldn’t happen to have a jolly-oakin’ idea of where in the high seas I could find a place to eat, would ye?”

He looked strong. Maybe he could help, if she could explain to him what was happening. The girl replied. 

1 hour ago, Sorana said:

"I don't know." She admitted and shook her head. "I have no idea where you could find something to eat. Maybe you can find someone on the street selling some food," her stomach rumbled and she blushed from embarressment, when it reminded her of the fact that she had skipped breakfast.

Her eyes returned to the boy in front of her, her hand still on the bag, waiting for him to let go.

Ana remembered the street vendor she had worked for. Maybe she could convince the vendor to let this man eat for free, as her payment for working for him. She crept around the group to him, careful not to draw attention to herself.

"I know where you might score a free meal, if you can help me," she said.

@Karger @Sorana @I think I am here.

Honestly, one of my biggest emotional reactions in the cosmere was when Kaladin reunited with his parents. I had to stop reading at that moment just to process all of my emotions. It was just such a touching moment because after so long thinking he was dead, their son was back. And Kal gets to see how much they love him, and that he's worthy of their love, and that they forgive him, and it's not his fault, and I know I'm rambling but I just love that moment so much.

Granted, but the blade is forever stuck to your hand (this does make it really easy to chop vegetables, though)

I wish for the ability to ice-skate perfectly. 

The streets were busy. Ana pushed down her frustration as she was shoved and jostled by the swarm of bodies. Her hands were still shaking, though not as badly. She still wasn't used to going out without an escort. T'Telir was beautiful, but it was also frighteningly dangerous. She had learned that the hard way.

She headed towards the D'Denir statues. Last week, a street vendor had offered her work - a job trying to score him some more customers. She hadn't been very good at it - either stumbling awkwardly over her words or simply failing to catch anyone's attention, but the vendor had been kind, and given her some coin. As she neared the statues, the crowd thinned, and the shining statues, draped in all their gaudy finery stood watching over the city. 

Suddenly, to her left, people gasped, and Ana turned in time to see a spray of coins fly from a priest's pouch, catching the sunlight as they fell to the ground. A boy near him knelt down to help gather them, and another boy also ran over to help. Amid the confusion, a girl stood in the middle, looking distressed. Ana kept watching as the priest and one of the boys moved on. However, the other boy and the girl stayed. 

3 hours ago, Sorana said:

She paused, suddenly nervously looking around. Something was wrong here, the boy, he didn't seem that nice anymore and the whole in her bag hurt. Her lipstick and other tools would fall out of it and she had no means to repair it. She knew that the knife had been safely stored, so he had to have moved it around. Paling slightly she shook her head at him, afraid what he would do next. "Please, give it back." She asked him, knew that if he stole this bag, or if he scattered its contents on the ground, she was done. It was the only thing she had left to show off her skills to do work.

Ana frowned. She remembered another time, a few months ago, when a pickpocket had run away with her money. She watched the pair, memories churning inside of her. I should help. It's what Father would do.

"Move it!" 

Ana was pushed over as a passing woman strode past her. Mud from the still-wet ground stained her skirt. She stood up, and fruitlessly tried to brush it off. She bit the inside of her cheek, and whispered to herself, "I am not scared", before approaching the pair.

"Excuse me, are you two all right?" She asked. 

More rain.

Ana fiddled with her skirt, a muted green, as she sat at the kitchen table. Her plate lay empty in front of her, not even a hint of crumbs remaining. The rain pattered on the roof, and the sky outside was grey.

She kept her head down, her eyes avoiding the empty seat on the other side of the table, like the way one’s eye avoids the beggars on the streets. Before . . . her father used to dine with her outside, in the gardens. They’d drink juices and he’d tell stories of The Court of Gods. She would listen with rapt attention as he painted pictures of dazzling hues and brilliant displays. He told her how the gods could awaken objects with a single word and perform wonderful miracles.

Her toes curled and her fists clenched, scrunching up her skirt. That was before.

Ana looked up. The walls stared back at her, peeling, faded, a dull off-white. The house was silent – her father had not yet risen from bed. It was worse, on rainy days, he said. Silently, she stood up and brushed the crumbs from her skirt, before realising that there were none at all. She crossed the room and into a short hallway, bare feet on wood. Pushing open the door, Ana poked her head into her father’s room. Beneath the thin sheet, he slept, his face contorted into a look of frustration. Ana pulled the door closed and shut the door with a click, turning around and entering her own tiny room. She went to the far corner, pushed her bedroll aside and pried up one of the floorboards. Under it was a small box of her possessions, things she couldn’t bear to lose when they left their home, two years ago. In it was an old comb, which she ran through her hair, though she didn’t need to. She’d sold her hair for a spindle of wool some months ago, and her hair was only now just coming to rest by her chin. The motion calmed her, however, reminding her of her mother’s gentle touch as she brushed Ana’s hair each night before bed. She replaced the comb and shut the box, tucking it safely away under the floor, and pulling her bedroll on top. Ana stood up, wishing she had a mirror, then turned and strode out of the house. The rain had stopped, and the sun poked through clouds, shining gentle rays onto the city. She looked straight ahead, face set, and started walking.

Her hands she hid in their pockets, to hide their shaking.

I'm doing a Golden Deer run at the moment, and I'm about three chapters after the timeskip. I can't wait to finally get some answers about Byleth and the crests. I did a Blue Lions run first and, while I love Blue Lions, it left me with so many unanswered questions about the lore. 

Sorry if this has been done before, but I had this thought: 

This is more of a what if scenario than a theory or anything, but ever since I finished Era 1, I've always wondered how the books would've differed if Preservation ended up as the main antagonist instead of Ruin. Like instead of saving the world from destruction, maybe the crew now have to save it from stasis? As Ruin says in Secret History:

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You realize that if he were in control, nobody would age? Nobody would think or live? If he had his way you'd all be frozen in time, unable to act lest you harm one another 

Since Mistborn already has so much trope deconstruction and subversion, I don't think it'd be too far-fetched if Brandon turned around and was like "hey, you know that evil malevolent force I've been foreshadowing this whole time? Yeah well now everyone has to work with it to stop the end of the world", albeit "the end of the world" in a different sense. 

I'm not sure exactly how much it would change the story (it has been a few years since I've read Era 1), but I think it would've made for some interesting character dynamics. Maybe this time Preservation sealed Ruin in the Well to stop him from interfering with Preservation's plan of freezing the world, and in Hero of Ages maybe Vin and the crew are actively searching for the missing atium. Though this probably means The Lord Ruler's backstory would have to completely change, and actually, the Final Empire would probably be completely different. And Secret History . . . well, I don't know what would happen there, except that it would have to be completely reworked. 

I think Mistborn does a pretty good job of establishing that Ruin or Preservation are neither truly good or evil, but that they're both necessary, but it would've been cool to see their roles reversed. 

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Wait, just confirming, am I a part of this?

Hey guys, I was directed here by Honorless (sorry, not sure how to tag people) in my intro thread. I've never been in an RP before but I'd love to join if you'll have me. Also, would someone be able to explain to me how it all works exactly?

Granted, but whenever you use your powers you have an itch that moves to a different part of your body whenever you scratch it.

I wish for a lifetime supply of cheese. 

My Awakening Command? It was “don’t get eaten”. Since then, I have gone through extreme measures to avoid consumption. 
 

Alas, as an awakened object, I cannot give you any breath. 
 

I’ve never participated in an RP before but it sounds fun, so I’ll check it out. 
 

Sorry if the formatting is weird, I’m on mobile. 

Hi everyone!

I stumbled across this site about two years ago just before the release of Oathbringer. After accidentally spoiling the ending of Bands of Mourning for myself I decided to finish the rest of the cosmere (well, all of it that I could get my hands on) until coming back here.

So now I'm finally here to discuss all my random thoughts and weird ideas that hopefully make sense (no guarantees though).

Also, do you still offer cookies? If so, I would definitely like one.