Usseewa

"Really" what? It's okay if you haven't watched Gravity Falls.

Ooh, nice! Thank you! It's fine if you don't comment for them all, it just feels good to know someone's reading them, yk? Even though I see that the blog gets views, that doesn't mean the people read them. Edit: do you think I should make a thread here? (Creator's Corner.) Or post status updates or something?

Haha lol. Technically she can change size to be human-size, or, iirc, as large as a mountain I think. But yeah, most of the time she is short. Edit: am I being too pedantic?

Ooh, thanks for the TIL. I'd never heard of that term, but that's basically what I've always wanted to do...

Guess I forgot about that. My bad. Or Shallan/Jasnah (Lightweavers/Elsecallers or whatever)? Or for Windrunners is it different? Like automatic for them but not regular Radiants? Oh yeah lol. But he's still basically unkillable conventionally, no? Also, what if there is a perpendicularity (mouthful) nearby? Like a Bondsmith?

What about a gold compounder? (Or whatever the super-healies are called. Miles.) Or LR maybe. Would a Radiant be able to heal? Also Hoid, but he's on a whole other level, (slight WaT spoiler) unless you vaporize him (and I mean ALL of him) But yeah, I get the point lol. Side note: would Shardplate stop a bullet?

Technically I made one guess (since Mraize == Betd), I just worded it a little poorly. Shallan? idk

Your spoiler text is the default grey, not black, so it can still be seen pretty easily (I made it black in the quote).

This FAQ/intro guide might be a good place to start. There's also this guide for the website itself, this code of conduct, and these policies for posting and content. I would say you don't have to read everything, maybe just skim it. Also, I saw that you posted your ketek in several threads. This may be against the forum policies on spam: (I removed the other items to highlight one in particular) If you have any specific questions (about the site), you can either ask me or ask the question here (the "17th Shard" subforum.) Hope that helps! Nice job with the keteks!

*gasp* (jk it's alr lol)

I saw that! (Where Chaos posted it, I mean)

Yes, I know... They don't roll away because one "side" is flatter. I wondered why too. I read the flat side and small part from one of the Cosmere RPG books.

Haha

Lots of poems today! Yeah... *gulp* (Poems begin after the following story.) Complicated For Nora, immortality was…complicated. Some of it was the loneliness and loss that everyone talked about. Some of it was thinking of all you could have done in a time far-gone. Over time, Nora had learned how to let years pass like weeks. But sometimes she missed something. Or felt like she did. Truth was, you only realized what you missed after the fact. Nora could do nearly anything she wanted. Nearly. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t stay. How? How…how do I know? When others do so. How do they know? When I don’t, no. And if I’m mistaken? Antiquated It may be antiquated, But not outdated, obsolete. It may be old, But it can be classic, vintage. It may be new, But not better, or different. Alphabetically So “...and Ben couldn’t decide!” exclaimed Felix. “Granted, he is…judged.” Kelly, lost, merely nodded. “Okay…” “Perhaps,” Quin remarked. “Students tease under veils. When Xavier, youngest, zombified…” Can’t. Won’t. Want? I…can’t be like them. Do I want to? Sometimes. Sometimes not. I think…somewhat? Inkwell Sometimes the well of ideas runs dry. So I write something like this or that. Where I don’t always know the meaning. Or if there is one, at that. I have a day or two or three, Where that well is overflowing. Then it slowly dies down, For an equal time. All in all, the same is true: Sometimes I write what I think, Sometimes I write what I feel, Sometimes I write what I don’t. Anew I am anew, as is this year. Suddenly I, Am putting words down, That act as a wormhole, Into my brain, And into my heart. Meaning So many words, But do they have meaning? So many meanings, But will they be seen? So many readers, But do they see meaning? So many meanings, But do the words mean? Ever? It’s already so late, So far along. Yet what has come of it? Only partway fulfilled, My goals do stand. Will this change, With time? Vagueities Intentionally vague, I can so be. For I do not know, Or don’t wish you so. Can? Can anything be? A simple thought? A meaningless thought? A meaningful thought, Though one so cliché? Wow Wow, I thought, looking back on my work. So much created, so much expressed, so much explored. Wow, I thought, looking over your work. Much more created, much more expressed, much more explored. Oh, I thought, looking back on my work. How much created, how much expressed? How much explored, how much to go? Wow, I think, looking back on my work. So much accomplished, so much to go. Quite the journey ahead. Proud. Once-proud. Still-proud. Comfort I say “no,” To the cold and the heat, I say “no,” To the wind around me. In doing so, I get sick of what comes, From saying “no,” To that you should not. And saying “yes,” To that you should not. I should say “sometimes,” To the cold and the heat, And the wind around me. And I should say “sometimes,” To the page and the screen. More former than latter, Should be a plus. But perhaps less latter, Leaves room for what’s best. Shortcuts What is “what’s”? Do not “don’t”? Is not “isn’t,” A crime? I say “they’re not!” Isn’t it easier? Don’t you agree? What’s the harm, you see? Ten Years’ In ten years’ time, Will I still lookup ReGex, Only to use it once, And forget it like the rest? Memes Memes aplenty, To cheer up my day. Or make me waste hours, On something mundane. Seventeenth The seventeenth one, Of this very day. To come from my mind, And onto the “page.” Why so many? Do they have meaning? Or is this the same as say freewriting? A recurring theme, Does seem to be: What I write, And what it means. I know they mean something. Some of them do. So what is the issue? Is it…with you? Where “you” is not real: Undefined, null. Empty, None, False or zero. Last That last one was lengthy, Unintentionally so. Yet it returned Truthy, And now “you” know. F.Y.I. fyi, just so you know. btw, (no offense meant). These are the words, That I type down. Or say out loud, When someone’s around. And that's all for today...maybe. I might write more and either update this post or make a "part 2." Lots of poems, since that is something I'm exploring for the first time in...a while. I really appreciate you, whoever you are, for reading this! - Theory

Hey, Rue, how're your essays going? (Small talk be like:) I wrote a bunch of poems, most of them short Now I can't stop thinking of rhymes, And reading in lines. I'm posting today's soon. it's seventeen poems, I do believe. Plus two short stories, for you to read. edit2: (^not the best lol but ya. Also, some of the poems will probably/hopefullly seem kinda like nonsense lol....) Edit: also, i used your Dreaming prompt for a story, except not exactly. it's more like (or going to be, if i write more) similar to Your Name maybe? (Have you watched it? I loved it) Edit again: here they are: yesterday (~half poems, and I think the first story there is the Dreams one) and today (lots of poems). Also, do you mind when I share my writing with you/ask you to read it?

He would be from Ashyn I think.

Mraize? or...Betd

Note: I made a lot of poems or poem-esque in the second half of this day's (which was actually yesterday!) chunk of writing. So...hope you enjoy! You might not understand all the poems, but isn't that sometimes the point? Dreams She dreamt of him again that night. The mystery boy. She didn’t know him, but almost felt like she did. And when she woke up, she missed him—or the dream. She just wanted to ignore that irritating alarm and drift back to sleep—back to him. She knew she couldn’t—or shouldn’t—for she had school today. She reached over to her nightstand and silenced the alarm on her phone, but continued to lie in bed, thinking. * * * She must have dozed off again, as she opened her eyes as her mom shook her awake. She groaned. “Am I late?” “You missed the bus, but it's slow anyway,” her mom replied lovingly. “I made you some breakfast to eat in the car, but we have to leave in five minutes.” “Thanks, Mom,” she replied, “and sorry I missed my alarm.” “It’s alright, just try to wake up on time tomorrow?” “I’ll try…” Control He tried to scream, but his clamped shut against his will. He could only watch as his body stopped and sat down calmly at the side of his bed. His mind, however, was anything but calm. Vehicles quietly pulled up outside—so as not to disturb the others in the apartment building. Light footsteps began to sound on the stairs and in the hallway. He should have known they would be capable of this. He knew many of their secrets. When the door behind him creaked open, he mentally braced himself. He couldn’t turn to see who it was, and couldn’t shut his eyes at what would certainly follow. She wasn’t who he had expected. “I’m here to help you,” she whispered. The Movies I stood in line with my parents and brother, surveying the snack choices. My brother picked up a pack of those horrendous gummies which were unnaturally chewy and made me feel as if I were eating sugared-up plastic. He liked them anyway. I opted for chocolate-covered raisins, my favorite. Even as I told myself to save some for later, I knew I would likely end up walking out of the theatre with the box empty. Popcorn bags and drinks clutched to our chests, buttered and unbuttered pieces alike already falling to the carpeted floor, we walked through the door. Awkwardly holding the tickets while trying not to drop everything else, Mom read the row numbers in the dim light and we stumbled over. Once there, we finally set down our burdens and took a seat. We sat through the previews, whispering jokes to one another or taking note of an upcoming movie to continue the eternal cycle. Not that I minded; I looked forward to these days. I still do. The lights dimmed and we grew quiet as the movie began. Eyes focused on the light before me, I reached into the half-empty bag of popcorn and took a bite. I leaned forward and took a sip of my drink to combat the salty taste of popcorn. The credits for various studios ended, and the tale began. * * * Music played, lights came on, and white text scrolled by on a dark screen. We gathered bags—salty dregs at the bottom—and took one last sip from our drinks as we shuffled out of the theatre room. We chatted about our favorite scenes, what we liked or didn’t, and how we were all eager for next time. Patience “When will it be ready?” “Soon.” “That’s what you said an hour ago!” “And I meant it. You’re simply using a different frame of reference.” “Well, can you at least give me a straight answer?” “No.” “Why not!?” “Because I don’t know the answer.” Satisfaction Peter leaned back in his small spinning chair, stretching and letting out a long sigh. Not one of frustration, but one of satisfaction. He had done it. He marvelled at his essay—not his best work, but certainly better than he had expected. And he hadn’t expected much. Or anything. He glanced at the clock on his laptop: 9:53pm, it read. Had he really written for over three hours straight? He smiled, relieved—it felt wonderful having that anxiety lifted. Sparing only a brief review to edit the essay, Peter uploaded the essay to his professor, then went to sleep feeling better than he had all week. It (not the novel/movies) It came out of nowhere, glistening tendrils exploding from a point on the stone wall. In less than a second, the wall crumbled into pieces of rock, then ash, then dust. By the time this was through, the tendrils had already spread to the ground. In the blink of an eye, the building shared the fate of that wall. Those who had seen it were staring slack-jawed, too shocked to move or speak. Those who were oblivious to it continued laughing and playing in the late-spring sun. Both groups shared a similar fate to the wall and building as the tendrils erupted along the grass and lashed out. Dust soon began to settle in silence on the now-bare ground. Hello? “H-hello? Anyone there?” … “What is this darkness? Where am I?” … “Why can’t…why can’t I remember anything?” … First poem/poem-esque! Speech She shared—sensing stillness. She stopped—silenced. She sighed—somber. She sparred—speaking. She struggled—striving. She—salvation—succeeded. Space Space was marvelous. Sure, it was lonely too, but she tried not to dwell on that. Or the existential dread that came with it as she drifted through the void. Instead, she focused on why she was here. She gazed through the shield of a window that protected her from joining the ever-growing sea of space debris. This window faced away from that, facing forward. Toward the incomprehensible unknown. Toward salvation, she hoped. He, her. He healed, having her here. He heeded her humbling. He halted his hypocrisy. He honed his honesty. He harnessed his humanity. He had hope, hearing her. Symbols What are these symbols? They once made sense. Now, all I see are lines on a paper, pixels on a screen. Gibberish. Maybe…maybe I just need a break. A break from the constant exposure. * * * What are these symbols? Days later, I still don’t know. Thoughts Thought They thought, thoroughly, through this. They think that—through thoughts—they thrive. They thrive, though, through thoughtfulness. She, he. She heard him, hurting. He sobbed softly, salty streams searing skin. She held him, hearts hugging. He shared her soothing heat, saved. She, heartfelt, shared his soul. With/Without Wherewithal? Where? Wealth? What? Worry? Wrought. Wonder? Once. Who Who are you, to stake such a claim? Who are you, to think yourself an expert? You, with your self-appointed mastery. You, an embarrassment. You, a fool. Akin It was akin, what I felt. Not quite same, not quite different. A variation of, perhaps? A sibling to? I thought. No. Maybe. Yes. Teh Writre Teh Writre wrtoe. Nto alwysa mking snese, Btu alwysa mking ues fo snese. Adn sneses. Unique Can one ever truly, Be unique? We all have, Uniquities. Don’t we? If we are, All unique, Then are we? Eight Billion Eight billion minds, personalities, souls. So many. Makes you think that, There must be one who would get you. If-then, why not? Some of the poems were experiments with using the same letter(s)/sound, some were based purely on personal thoughts/feelings, and some both. The first one, "Speech," actually was going to be another story but with only words starting in "S." After two or three sentences, I decided it may work good as a poem, so I finished and then edited it. I'll probably write some more poems (and stories) today, which will be posted later. - Theory

Choice Amber didn’t know how to proceed. Who would? Much less someone who hadn’t thought about it as much as they should. Amber had told herself she would consider both options, that had been weeks ago. She had thought that would be plenty of time. But then the days had slipped by, and…here she was. Some days I only write one or a few stories, but next post (which should be posted in a few minutes) will have lots more! (Including some poems, which I've rarely written before this.) - Theory

I like it!

Unfortunately, there seemed to be a lot of depressing stuff.... soo...yeahhh... Edit: what do you see when you follow someone here? Like notifs or anything?

Thank you! Really appreciate it! Yours is pretty neat, Aki. Like the Colors! Honestly I'm not too good at rating...so I guess 7/10 too!

depends.