P…. Pattern… I Don’t Think I Can Handle This. What The Fuck.

Oathbringer Stormlight Spoilers

I really like how the chapter headers sort of trick you into thinking the book is by Jasnah, before you start learning more and more about Dalinar.

Would These Cosmere Characters Survive Email?

There was a post I saw talking about how Achilles of Iliad fame would not survive sending one polite email, despite being good at, you know, war and stuff. It got me wondering: Would Cosmere characters succeed if they had to Send Email?

1. Steris: Yes

Steris is a master of email. She's cutting down her enemies with "per my last email" and "just to make sure we're all on the same page" and she knows how to use both CC and BCC.

2. Vin: No

Vin is leaping out the window at the first sign of email.

3. Kelsier: In a way

Kelsier signs off every email with "Smiles :)" which is terrifying, given some of the emails he writes.

4. Marsh: Yes

Marsh doesn't think that Kelsier writes good emails. Marsh, however, feels that he writes very good emails. Most of which contain the word "however."

5. Lezian: No

Much like Achilles in the post I saw, Lezian would die if he had to send one (1) polite email.

6. Sadeas: Yes

Sadeas has one of those fancy email signatures that says "Torol Sadeas" with green lettering in a cursive font. Adolin has always been secretly jealous of it.

7. Dalinar: No

Dalinar strikes me as one of those people who are incapable of answering more than one question in an email, who when asked, "Would you like to have the meeting Tuesday or Wednesday," simply respond "Yes."

8. Marasi: Moreso than she thinks

Marasi is always having a friend read over her email for her to make sure it's okay, but she's actually very good at email and probably doesn't need to do that.

9. Vivenna: Less so than she thinks

Vivenna writes emails that are politic but incisive...and never once has she been understood properly. Greg from IT still hasn't forgiven her for that email she sent a year ago that Vivenna thought was pretty charming.

10. Jasnah: Yes

Jasnah's emails are long, polished, and perfectly grammatical, and her eye only twitches a little bit when she gets "yeag" in response.

11. Lightsong: Yes but also no

Lightsong's emails are great! But of course, it's actually Llarimar writing them according to his "interpretation" of what Lightsong says.

12. Shallan: Yes but also no

Shallan was taught Proper Email Technique as part of her education. But also she saw that "Your timesheets are now three days overdue" email...and then she ceased to see it, and now she's busy designing Adoliin a new email signature that's way better than Sadeas's and uh maybe Radiant needs to take over again.

13. Adolin: No

The worst turn-based combat, in Adolin's opinion, is email. Why can he not simply duel Maurice from Accounting with swords?

14. Sarene: Yes

Sarene's favorite turn-based combat is email. Because she always wins.

15. Raoden: Yes but it's not his favorite

Raoden would much rather pick up the phone or stop by your office, but he can do email if he needs to. It's just much better to talk in person, you know?

16. Fort: No

His emails keep getting flagged as spam. If he didn't put "Great Deal!!!" as his subject every time maybe it would be different.

17. Yumi: No

It's not that she writes bad emails exactly, but she definitely overwrites them. Her intro paragraph is always like five lines long, and her conclusion turns "best wishes" into like nine sentences.

18. Rlain: Yes

Rlain is unfailingly polite in emails, even when he is responding to one that was...less than polite.

19. Sazed: Yes

Sazed's emails are meticulous and well-written, and he can always cite the exact policy he needs.

20. Renarin: It's mixed

Renarin appreciates that email allows you to consider and craft your response, but he does NOT appreciate that tone is impossible to determine. When his boss wrote, "We need to have a meeting," Renarin thought he would die (it ended up being about what color balloons to order for Sharon's birthday). Renarin just wishes humans would use email tone indicators like the Singers do.

Wayne does things that would send Shallan into doom spirals. He method acts for fun and Shallan would have crumpled like a house of cards beneath his rambles about accents and personality and “stealing voices”.

He no-diffs Shallan, not because he can manipulate time, but rather because she simply couldn’t keep up with his Spastic Man Swag™️

She KILLED HER SPREN??

Stormlight Archives Spoilers

Hmmm… the Fourth Ideal, something Kaladin cannot say… if we look at the themes of his story so far, it’s probably something like “I will protect only those I can”. Kaladin has always struggled with accepting that he can’t save EVERYONE, because he is just… too compassionate, but it’s gotten to the point where it’s crippling his ability to act, to save anyone. I expect Rhythm of War is gonna have a lot of Kaladin brooding

Absolutely love when inspiration to write strikes so I end up doing it until the point of complete exhaustion and physical pain.

Stormlight Archives Spoilers

Hmmm… the Fourth Ideal, something Kaladin cannot say… if we look at the themes of his story so far, it’s probably something like “I will protect only those I can”. Kaladin has always struggled with accepting that he can’t save EVERYONE, because he is just… too compassionate, but it’s gotten to the point where it’s crippling his ability to act, to save anyone. I expect Rhythm of War is gonna have a lot of Kaladin brooding

Dawnshard time!!!

The Sleepless are soooooo coooooollllllllll!!!!!! Yes yes yes bugggsssss

AAAAAAAAA ADOLIN IS UNWILLING TO BECOME A RADIANT BECAUSE HE BELIEVES HE CAN HELP HIS SHARDBLADE RECOVER!!!!! AAAAAAAA HE’S SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME AND I LOVE HIM AND I BELIEVE IN HIM.

Shrek Colors

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

My Poor Friend Ichabod

The party was excellent. I was so, so charmed by all that I saw that day. The guests - each and every one - was as dashing as any other in great Virginia... Save poor Ichabod. He arrived to the event looking like a man haunted. The poor sod had the manner of a mule who'd been working the mill for days without rest, but I *knew* he got the rest of any other man, and hardly lifted an arm to help the young men around town with physical labor. But still, a man didn't look that way with no reason. In those days, I'd considered him a friend. Our repour was a charming one. We played with each other in those days like young men do, pranks and soft jabs. He was perhaps my most favored man in the whole town. It was on that assumption that I approached him, teeth gleaming to perhaps shine some light on his dark demeanor.

He was always a grim man, so I thought to perhaps cheer him up with a tall tale. Some of the worker boys told me about some ghost or other earlier that day, so I related the story to him. He kept glancing around the party as I spoke, then suddenly, he began to walk off. It was with shock that I took his curt dismissal of my kindness. He stormed by with little more than a word, marching through the hall directly towards my Katrina. I wasn't so dense as to not know he held affection for my lady, but... Well I thought he'd known we'd been engaged since before he arrived in town. Perhaps I should have told him.

He proposed. She declined. He ran. The night was dark, but worse, I knew the weather was growing harsh. I couldn't allow him to simply ride through the woods of rural Virginia in the height of wolf season with a storm brewing, so I quickly got to my own steed and followed him. We raced through town like shades of the night, he was shouting curses and his manner was frantic. The poor man was delirious and so stricken with grief over his lost love.

Then we approached the great bridge. The rain began to fall and his horse galloped unto the paving stones. This I remember clearly: A shine of orange in the midst of the bridge. There was a pumpkin, obviously fallen from a nearby cart, in the middle of the highpoint of the stone arch. When Ichabod's equine steed's foot crunched into the plump vegetable, the crack sounded much like that of lightning. It reared to it's feet and it's rider - my dearest friend Ichabod - was flung from it's back! I could hardly believe my eyes. The horror of it all was so stunning. He flew through the rain, illuminated by the slivers of the moonlight, in suspended motion. I believe for an instant we saw each other's faces. He was so scared, terrified.

I could do little but scream as he sunk into the river, goaded by storm waters, and was swept away. For the remainer of that night and into the next week, I rode down that dreadful river... But I could never find my poor friend Ichabod.