Mr. Misting
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Posts posted by Mr. Misting
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You only live once, you should totally eat the cookie.
Also, welcome to the shard! How long have you been painting miniatures?
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This was epic! I'm a major fan of the world building. It's really cool how you name everything based on flowers, like with evergreen, which I thought that was rather clever. As the story continued, I was worried there wouldn't be much going on, but the plot twist zombie attack was awesome. Good job, that's some sick worldbuilding and good story.
Near the start you said you needed advice. What sort of advice do you need? What sort of work do you plan to do on the story?
And also, for future story posting, it's common practice to the text in a spoiler box, to make the page easier to read.
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You're the reason they had to up the number of fools from 3.
When Shallan draws an improved version of you, the page is blank.
When Hoid met you he'd have to retire, because the biggest joke of the cosmere was already created.
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11. People who don't care
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On 4/25/2024 at 7:48 AM, Edema Rue said:
Wait that was so sweet!! I want to see more of this world!
Thank you much! I don't have any intention to continue writing in this world, but I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
On 4/25/2024 at 8:26 AM, Ookla said:Ooohh! Intriguing! I really want to see what's in Paradise! (Y'know... what if it's like in Edgar Rice Burroughs' Mars trilogy, where the supposed "Paradise" is actually a place full of carnivorous plant people that eat you? So when you go, you expect something good, and then it's really, really bad. Only, in your case, it sounds like it at least looks good, even if it's actually something nasty.) When you write more, I'd definitely love to read it!!!!
Thank you also! I've never heard of, or read that series. Would you recommend it? Also, the plants are fascinating as an concept. Yeah, paradise would probably have to seem good in my story, or it wouldn't work, but I certainly thought about if I could pervert the concept. If I ever wanted to write more, I'd probably do it where the world is "perfect", whatever that means, and the humans makes it a crappy place to live by being the worst and whatnot. Because what's even the point of speculative fiction if everyone's not depressed and or dead by the end?
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A very late thanks Edema!
Also, I wrote another thing, that's probably marginally decent! I'm a big fan of it, even if it did end up kind of being a story that exists to support cool worldbuilding. Any thoughts on how to improve would be welcomed.
SpoilerThe line to paradise trailed past the grand white doors. But all still heard the voice, peachy and plastic sweet from the loudspeaker, “Welcome to Paradise, the only place you want to be!”
Those who had already started paying for paradise filled most of the line, surrounding the young man. Anyone who could pay premium had already left. ParadiseExpress had started accepting partial payments, send a part of yourself now and work to send the rest later. The transit soul in front of him was faded gray woman, a flat attempt at a person. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they’d be empty. The life that moved them was gone.
He’d stood in line for eight hours, all in silence, before he got in the doors. Those who weren’t in transit felt silenced by those who were.
A black board loomed in contrast against the white room. It was filled with numbers next to qualifiers: government official, soul in transit, approaching death -- the young man was none of these, so he only watched the general price with a muted fervor. It was 11:59, and the prices were about to change. No one had ever seen them go down.
The clock flickered, and zeros were added to the board’s numbers. An electric air of anxiety went through the room. He knew what he had scraped together in his bank account, but he checked his phone anyway. He had just enough.
Ahead of him, past the transit, a man laughed.
“Do you still have enough?” the young man asked.
The other man looked back and smiled. He coaxed the hand of the transit woman open and squeezed it. She didn’t respond. “I can just make premium. And my wife will make it too.” He took a shaky breath and laughed again. “Just made it.”
The young man smiled back. That’s great, he thought. He didn’t say it.
The man noticed. “Transit?”
He glanced at his phone, as if it might have changed. “Transit.”
The man winced. “It’s not as bad as you think. Everyone makes a big deal of it, but hey, you’re on your way to paradise. Why would you want to spend more time here?” He asked, gesturing around. Their voices were loud in the quiet room.
He continued. “I’m the one who volunteered to stay behind, actually. I wanted my wife to enjoy it with the kids.”
The young man nodded slowly. “Is…she ok? Like that?”
The man squeezed the woman’s hand tighter, pulling her closer. She shifted silently, like she was sleepwalking. “It’s different, definitely, but I’m about to be with her again. It’s funny,” he went on, “before, she used to hate gardening, but she told me to do whatever got the most money. When my neighborhood started to empty out, everyone on their way to paradise, no one was taking care of the homes. I got hired by the government to keep everything looking civilized. She helps. Hasn’t complained once.”
“Who are you keeping it nice for?”
“Don’t know!” He laughed. “But I’m not questioning it.”
There was a lull -- eventually the older man broke it. “You’re young. Where do you work?”
“I was in college when ParadiseExpress opened. All the students started leaving. The school pretty much shut down, so my scholarship ended. I stumbled into a job at McDonalds. Since I’ve had some higher education, and I’m not a transit, I got promoted to regional manager in two days. It has paid just enough to start on transit.”
“Don’t you have parents? Can’t they help you pay?” The man winced. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “No, I don’t. Not really. My dad’s always been dead. Well, since I can remember. And my mom was dying when ParadiseExpress opened. She got in on a subsidy, because of it.” He took a long breath. “She was pretty senile when they took her, but she told me to follow her. That’s all she could say, before she was gone.”
The older man stepped forward in line. They were nearing the front. “That sucks.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that sucks.”
His heart beat hot and loud in his ears. “Do you wonder about it? Paradise?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I wonder about it.”
He had opened some wound in his mind, and questions began to spill out. “Like, how do we really know what’s on the other side? People have been through, but do we really know if it’s better? What if people still die? Will I go over to my mom dead? Will-“
The man reached over and grabbed his arm, trying to ground him.
“Hey! It’s better! Why else would everyone be going through? Do you remember when Taylor Swift went to paradise? Her contract said she only had to come back for five minutes, which she said was a stupid stipulation, but she went back to paradise as soon as the five minutes ended. Even the feds have been. Of course it’s better. It’s natural to doubt, but you’re about to go to paradise.”
They were nine, maybe ten people away from the front. What had been slow now seemed monstrously fast, as each employee smiled, peeling away another person from the line.
His jangled thoughts kept sliding out. “I saw a cloud when driving here. I don’t know when I’ve last looked at the sky. It was beautiful. Will they have a sky in paradise?”
The older man shook him. “Hey, hey, kid. You’re going to paradise. Paradise.” He looked near to crying from joy. He shook the younger man again, trying to impart the feeling. “You get to go to paradise.” He turned his head to a noise, and then the man and his wife were gone to a kiosk, and from this world.
He was alone and bare at the front of the line. He felt a sudden yearning to run, to break out of the lines and crowds and walls, to tear off the roof and drink in the sky until he was full, get away, to say goodbye to the grass and sky –
“Sir. Sir!” There was a smiling woman, waving at him from an open kiosk. “Right this way please.”
He walked forward with jolted breath. He couldn’t see anything but the kiosk and the woman, his vision contracting down to the end of his life, of this life.
He closed his eyes. I’m coming Mom. He thought. I’m going to paradise.
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This is a fascinating series of questions. I just read a nonfiction article that kind of skirted around cancer, so I'm about to make a couple of uneducated claims.
3 hours ago, Trusk'our said:Does this mean that a Hemalurgist would be immune to cancer forming around the site of a spike as well?
I would think that the spikes would negate cancer, if the spike is placed over it. Yes, the spike would make the body grow around it differently, and would prevent any harm that it would cause. But I doubt it was prevent other harm, such as cancer, which is not inherently damaging, or caused by the spike.
3 hours ago, Trusk'our said:Or, could a person spike out the Spiritweb of a tumor growing in someone to completely destroy it?
Spiking the tumor out of a person feels terribly challenging. It's magic, so I don't see why you couldn't, but it feels like it would require an advanced practitioner.
3 hours ago, Trusk'our said:And what if you implanted a spike in a tumor? Would it have a different spiritual makeup due to its corrupt nature? Could spiking Investiture into a tumor make it turn into a separate being, perhaps more symbiotic in nature than parasitic?
I don't think cancer would be read as inherently corrupt. It's obviously detrimental and can kill humans, buts it's just a type of cell growth, which happens all the time. I'm not sure how adding investiture to a tumor would change anything. Do we have an example of investiture making body parts into more separate beings? Like, if I spiked my hand and put in a bunch of investiture, I can't see why it would become separate. It's still me, just as a spiked tumor would be. Also, to the questionable science claims, I read something along the lines that cancer sometimes gets in the blood stream or whatever, but in some way it migrates. So even if you get the main source, other tumors could still grow.
On the topic of spiritual ideals and cancer, I'm not sure how effective cosmere healing would be against cancer. We know that when someone has internalized an injury, it changes how they view themselves, and they can no longer be healed (at least by radiants). But again, cancer is just a certain form of growth. And I would imagine a teenage radiant could grow acne, which is certainly not helpful growth. So how would that be any different for cancer? Again, with Lift, she is very actively opposed to growing up, but her fancy progression surge isn't helping, even if how she wants to grow is opposed to how she is growing. Is cancer immune to cosmere healing?
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In regards to your member title, who is dying in a cage of smoke and needles?
What is the most impressive animal you could beat in a cage match?
Coolest way to die?
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On 2/11/2024 at 3:57 PM, Just-A-Stick said:
What's your favorite breakfast food??
The one I have the most often are probably homemade pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, but my favorite would have to cinnamon rolls. (Or maybe just bacon?)
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Callsign: Hypothetical
And then as a bonus to the name, whenever I take down a ship I can be like "you just got hypothetically destroyed!" I can't imagine anyone would find it as funny as I do, but I would find it very funny.
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I just finished up a short story, and as I think it's fairly good, I guess I'll put it up here for anyone who wants to read it. I'd be very curious what people think, and if anyone has an possible edits, or ways to improve the story, please do tell me.
Anyway:
SpoilerPracticed Killing
The man in sunglasses raised his gun. With a practiced hand, the restaurant’s customers started dropping. Bang. Bang.
A woman screamed. Bang. She knocked over a table as she fell.
A boy sporting a wispy mustache raised his pistol, eyes wide.
Bang. Bang.
The boy’s gun slipped from his hand as he fell, and the window behind the boy shattered.
The staff was running. Bang. Click. Click. He missed, and the two ducked behind the kitchen door. In one motion he stepped, vaulted over the counter, and kicked open the door. He dropped his empty gun and pulled a loaded one. Bang. Bang. The staff’s footsteps stopped in two thumps.
There was a crackle in his ear, and a husky voice spoke. “Targets eliminated. Countdown started.”
The man moved towards the exit, stepping over the young man’s body. He pushed past the swinging door, the bell tinkling. The air was fresh and sharp, contrasting the restaurant’s plastic warmth. The man touched his ear, moving with calm strides. “Clear.” “Confirmed.” The voice said.
The restaurant exploded in a deep crash of fire. The man didn’t look back.
The man walked to line of cars outside the restaurant and jumped in a dingy blue pick-up truck. He took off his suit jacket and sunglasses, stored the gun in the glove box, the earpiece next to it. He rolled onto the road, leaving the rest of the abandoned cars behind. The restaurant roared hollowly.
He drove absently, taking the road and cars by rote. He fiddled with the radio, until classical music began playing. He turned it off.
He took a right at the intersection and began driving into a residential area. Cookie cutter houses blurred past.
And then in front of his truck sprinted a tan object. The man’s eyes went wide. “Holy--“
Bump. Bump.
There was a visceral thump, and another, as his tires plowed over the thing. The curse died on his lips. He looked into his rearview mirror and saw something squirming in the road. It looked like a dog.
He drove silently for a moment, staring at nothing.
Then he blinked and looked at his wheel as if it was new. Realizing what had happened, he pulled over and ran out of truck.
He could see it laying in the middle of the road, cars swerving past. It looked like a half-made rug, tan fur stretched across the ground. No one stopped.
The man could still feel the sharp thump echoing in his bones. He bounced on his toes, waiting for a gap in the cars so he could run and grab the dog. Not a dog. He could see it was a cat now.
There. A car whizzed past, and the next one was two blocks away. He sprinted onto the road, and grabbed the cat, feeling something shift and crack. Cradling it to his chest, he ran back to the sidewalk. The car honked shrilly as it narrowly missed him.
The man lay the cat on the grass, its chest caved in. It was a poor grave. The man looked around, searching for anyone looking for the cat. There was no one. The neighborhood was silent: empty sidewalks, faceless cars, and no one cared. This cat had died, and it seemed only the man knew it.
He knelt there in the thin grass sidewalk strip, blankly watching the cat, the sky, and his shaking hands. Waiting to see if there was a way to fill this hollow moment.
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On 12/25/2023 at 10:19 AM, Argenti said:
"Okey dokie!"
On 12/25/2023 at 8:06 AM, The Aspiring Archivist said:"Probably, yes."
"Ok. Do you guys want to try to follow the road in either direction, or, um, hide in the woods somewhere, or, ah..." Quest trailed off shrugging nervously. "Where were you guys going anyway?
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On 12/20/2023 at 3:41 PM, The Aspiring Archivist said:
"The metal was glowing red initially."
On 12/20/2023 at 3:51 PM, Argenti said:"Ohhh magic!" Havri claps excitedly.
"Hmm. It might not have been magic, just heat." Quest added. "I mean, I think that's how meteors work?"
Quest glanced around. "Should we, um, maybe be having this conversation somewhere else? If there's nothing else in the hole, we should probably leave."
On 12/21/2023 at 11:08 AM, xinoehp512 said:"Yes," replied Yerik. "Do you remember when I told you about special metals that I could use to make magical weapons?" He gestured. "Well... here they are! I suppose you've seen the soldiers use them, so you know a little bit about how they work."
"Nah. Don't remember at all. But I'm paying attention now." Miyako edged over to one of the racks and furtively picked up a red swords. She began checking its balance, cradling it gently.
"Run it by me again. The red one's come with some extra punch and the gold ones can bend shapes, right? How does that work, in action? How do you command it? I've seen a lot of magic swords and they all cut different."
QuoteYes that did indeed happen.
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1 hour ago, Argenti said:
"Could It be moving very fast!??"
Quest turned, and a blinked for a second before registering the question. "I, hmm, possibly. I mean, probably, right? The object would have to be moving very fast to dig so far. And falling would probably get it that speed." Quest mulled over it for a second. "Hey, um, shadow man, did you notice any sort of strange heat down in the hole?"
2 hours ago, xinoehp512 said:The room was filled with soldiers, both in armor and out. Some seemed to be training, while others stood guard.
The walls were covered in weapons- mostly spears, though there were a few devices that appeared to be fancy crossbows. The primary focus of the room, however, was the armor.
Two main kinds were represented- the golden kind that could change its shape, and the reddish metal that some of the soldiers had used to pull off remarkable displays of power.
Yerik's eyes lit up as he scanned the room.
Miyako grinned widely as she looked around the room. She longed to pull out a sword and test steel with some of the soldiers in the room, but knew that she was already exhausted from the princess's training and the hangover of her shadow. Miyako sighed internally. It would not be wise to further tire herself, no matter how fun all the toys looked.
Miyako caught Yerik's expression. "Eh, Acolyte. You're at home a forge right? Do you know anything special 'bout all the weapons here, especially with coming from here and all?"
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So, for anyone that didn't know, Brandon decided to throw another book into the secret projects, because, you know, why not. For anyone who wants to download the novella it's available for free: https://www.dragonsteelbooks.com/products/long-chills-and-case-dough-ebook
* SPOILERS *
So what did people think of the story? I actually liked it a lot. Jack was fascinating to me, and I loved the juxtaposition of noir over sci-fi. It was just such a neat and tidy mystery. The story had a really cool thought, and was able to be fully explore it without ever overstaying its welcome.
One nitpick was I wish we had seen an example of the gangs being dangerous. Because the gang confrontation is played as a joke, and a good joke at that, we never see an in book example or explanation of any actual problems the gang cause. If we had an example then Jack's explanation of motive to Alice would have worked better for me.
It was super interesting to see some of Brandon's work before publish. What did you guys think about it?
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7 minutes ago, Ookla said:
Sounds great to me! How does PMing work?
Cool, I'll send you a message to get it started.
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36 minutes ago, The Aspiring Archivist said:
"This is all I saw down there."
"Oh, hm, that's unfortunate. Well, then we should probably leave." Quest nodded. He turned towards a direction in the road - with seemingly no thought to destination - and began ambling off distractedly.
He muttered softly to himself: "how would something so small cause a hole like that? Had the bulk of the mass burned away, leaving only the ingot?
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Well, that's a very solid first chapter. Good job. I especially like the first few paragraphs, and the big, messy sentences that give such a sense of setting.
And if you want help with editing, or beta reading, then I'd be happy to help.
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1 hour ago, Argenti said:
"I Think I could beat Johnston one on one? I'm not excited to find out though."
"Oh, yes. Probably? But he did lodge a knife in me, and stab, um, our friend in the gut rather violently before you stopped him. And I already cast a lot of spells so I'm not sure how hopeful I'll prove.
"Um, it may be smart to run before the bandit's return, and come back when we are feeling better. Unless there is more of the metal they might extract from the hole? I, um, wouldn't want to miss out on that..."
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On 12/18/2023 at 8:06 AM, The Aspiring Archivist said:
He hesitated, then pulled out the strange object he had found in the pit.
On 12/18/2023 at 8:34 AM, Argenti said:Havri walks over to get a better look. "Whats that?"
Quest leaned forward until he was inches away and examined the curious metal. "Hmmm." I, hm, that looks...interesting. Was there more of it?" Quest straightened and looked around. "Oh, and well, we should probably leave. Right? I mean, Johnston or the woman will be coming for us, I assume."
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On 12/14/2023 at 1:28 PM, Ookla the Silver said:
Havri waves.
On 12/14/2023 at 12:38 PM, Ookla the Abstract said:"Yes..."
"Well, uh, what did you find?"
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On 12/12/2023 at 4:32 PM, Ookla the Reborn said:Quote
Well I mostly have questions. How many guards are there, are they currently possessed by the queen? How nice are the swords? How many weapons and what types of weapons? Is there any one weapon that seems important? How big is the room?
Miyako looked around the room.
On 12/12/2023 at 4:21 PM, Ookla the Abstract said:He didn't answer, and didn't make eye contact as he applied the bandages.
On 12/12/2023 at 4:25 PM, Ookla the Silver said:"I'll call you.. Fred then." He walks back over to quest, away from "Fred"
Quest felt for the cut along his back. The spell had mostly healed the wound, so he left it alone for now.
Quest nodded to Havri, and turned to Antin. "Hey, you were the guy from before. Um, the guy who climbed down the hole. Did you happen to find anything?"
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21 hours ago, Ookla the Silver said:
Havri's sword flies out of his hand, and Havri himself stumbles back. He shakes his fist as Johnston runs away. "Flee you Villain! Bother innocents no longer!"
Havri turns to Quest "Are you ok?"
Quest nods shakily, letting his orbs of fire pewter out. He ran a hand through his curly hair, and gaveHavri a weak smile. "Um, yeah, no. I'm, ah, good. Thank you." He seemed more flustered than hurt, even though he had pulled a knife out of his back not a minute ago. Life magic was a wonder.
Quest turned to Antin. "Are you doing alright? You, um, got rather stabbed just barely."
18 hours ago, Ookla the Reborn said:"Sure," replied Yerik.
QuoteSounds good to me.
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On 12/8/2023 at 1:03 PM, Ookla the Reborn said:
The group ventured out into the halls.
QuoteOk cool. Also, I'm pretty sure Miyako's sword was returned to her after the fight, but does she have all her equipment? Sword, waterskins, travel pack, etc.
Miyako strutted out into the hall, biting into an fruit she grabbed. "Greenie, bet'cha there's an sword hall somewhere in this place. Wanna go check it out?"
On 12/8/2023 at 1:05 PM, Ookla the Abstract said:On 12/8/2023 at 1:08 PM, Ookla the Silver said:Havri slams down on the scaled arm with his sword and the full weight of his body.
Johnston grunted as the sword bit into his arm, cracking scales and starting a trickle of thick green blood.
Quest focused on the wells of magic inside him, muttering softly to himself as small orbs of fire flared into existence around him. They were slowly growing in size as they circled. Quest closely watched the fight.
Johnston glanced at Quest and then back again at Havri. With a sneer and Johnston threw his scaled arm out, trying to knock away Havri and his sword. Displaying a rather rude gesture, he started sprinting towards the woods.
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The Reputation Points Problem
in 17th Shard Discussion
Posted · Edited by Mr. Misting
I agree with this argument full heartedly. I left the shard a year and a half ago, in large part because I felt I wasn’t as cool. I would be posting similar things to others, and getting less rep, and feeling like I had less important or witty things to say. I’ve never won the day, but I seems like I can look at anyone who’s spent time on the shard, and see they have. It feels like I’m doing something wrong.
Part of me leaving was that I didn’t have my crap together, life wise. And I’d think I care less about rep than I did then. But it can still hurt.
I worry rep can feel like barrier to entry for newer sharders. I see some new people who gets crazy amounts of rep, but for most, it’s easy to look at the leaderboards and see your absence.
I don’t know if completely scrapping rep is the move as I agree with Treamayne that rep can have value, and I really like some of the proposed options. Another option could be cutting win the day and leaderboards but keeping ranks. Then hide the number of reps someone has, so someone can see how experienced someone is, without feeling the number gap. And at that point, you could even have rank be based on some mix of rep and days spent, allowing for different kinds of contributions to rank people up.
There are a lot of options of ways to improve. But I think it’s definitely important to discuss.
Update: When I saw I was the only response that was hearted so far, I felt literal glee in my gut. I thought: I must be the smartest and most eloquent person in the world! ...I may not have moved past my rep fetish as much as I want to think.