Shadows of Self

The Fan Girl Part of My Review
Deal with it he is like my FAVORITE fantasy author….but there will be a real review below this

The Fan Girl Part of My Review
Deal with it he is like my FAVORITE fantasy author….but there will be a real review below this

Completely Spoiler Free Section:

Semi-Spoiler Review Section
all big/real spoilers will be tagged but Quotes everywhere

“I heard voices in my head once too, you know.”
“You did?”
“Sure. Gave me a fright. I banged my head against the wall until I went unconscious. Never heard them again! Ha. Showed ’em good, I did. If rats move in, best thing to do is to burn the nest and send ’em packing.”
“And the nest … was your head.”
“Yup.”

Steris stopped on a page in her notebook, then turned it around. There, in her neat handwriting, was a detailed agenda for their evening at the party. The third entry read, 8:17. Way into the building likely blocked by traffic. Lord Waxillium carries us up to the top floor by Allomancy, which is completely inappropriate and at the same time breathtaking.
He raised an eyebrow, checking his pocket watch, which he carried in his gunbelt—not his vest—to be easily dropped with his other metals. “It’s 8:13. You’re slipping.”

Regular folk, they called something after what it was. You’d say, “What’s that, Kell?” And they’d say, “That? That there’s the crapper.” And you’d reply, “What do you do with it?” And they’d say, “Well, Wayne, that’s where you put your crap.”
It made sense. But rich folk, they had a different word for the crapper. They’d call it a “commode” or a “washroom.” That way, when someone asked for the crapper, they knew it was a person they needed to oppress.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” Marasi demanded. “You complain about the motorcar, about me being here, about your tea being too hot in the morning. One would almost think you’d made some horrible life decision that you regret deep down. Wonder what it could be.”
Wax kept his eyes forward. In the mirror, he saw Wayne lean back in and raise his eyebrows. “She might have a point, mate.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Wasn’t intending to,” Wayne said. “Fortunately, I know which horrible life decision she’s talkin’ about. You really should have bought that hat we looked at last week. It was lucky. I’ve got a fifth sense for these things.”

“I coulda delivered that, you know.…”
“You, she would shoot,” Wax said.
“Only ’cuz she likes me,” Wayne said, smiling. He’d have welcomed an excuse to go see Ranette. This night was getting darker and darker, it seemed.
“Wayne…” Wax said. “You know she doesn’t actually like you.”
“You always say that, but you’re just not seein’ the truth, Wax.”
“She tries to kill you.”
“To keep me alive,” Wayne said. “She knows I live a dangerous life. So, keepin’ me on my toes is the best way to make sure I stick around…”

"I'm not Harmony's hands," Wax whispered "I'm His sword."

"I'm not Harmony's hands," Wax whispered "I'm His sword."

"You put dynamite in the oven, Wayne"
"Gotta hide a gift where nobody'll look for it."

Steris folded her arms. "Oh? I suppose I should take the butler instead, then?"
"If you like"
"Becareful about that Steris," Wayne added "Wax's butlers have a tendency to explode."

"I killed her," Wax whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. "I killed her again.

"I cheated, if you must know." "...Cheated?"
"I know you enjoy witty conversation," she said, "so I prepared earlier, writing myself a list of things I could say that you would find engaging."'

After a short ride, he and Marasi had walked in on these two in the middling of their belching...contest? Wax wasn't certain if it was a contest, or a matter of mutual appreciation, like two virtuosos playing their favourite songs.
MeLaan finished her beer, then dramatically held up her hand, the Palm split, forming lips, which then let out a soft belch. "Cheating" Wayne said. "Just using what my father gave me," MeLaan said.

“I ain’t drunk,” Wayne said, sniffling. “I’m investigatin’ alternative states of sobriety.”

“I ain’t drunk,” Wayne said, sniffling. “I’m investigatin’ alternative states of sobriety.”

“The law is not something holy, son. It’s just a reflection of the ideals of those lucky enough to be in charge.”

“The law is not something holy, son. It’s just a reflection of the ideals of those lucky enough to be in charge.”

“Cleaning the wound is often more painful
than the cut itself.”

"The Boris Brothers. They're acquaintances of yours, aren't they?"
"I shot their father. Twice."
"Are they likely to try to kill you?"
"Boris Junior swore to drink my blood. Boris the Third - and yes, he's the brother of Boris Junior; don't ask - swore to... what was it? Eat me toes? He's not a clever man."
"I'll put them on the list, then."
"You're going to invite my mortal enemies to our wedding?"
"We have to invite someone."
"I'm certain there are better choices for invitations than people who want me dead. I head family members are traditional."
"As a point of fact I believe your remaining family members actually do want you dead."
...
"I have known you for an entire year now, Lord Waxillium. I can accept you for who you are, but I am under no illusions. Something will happen at our wedding. A villain will burst in, guns firing. Of we'll discover explosives in the altar. Or Father Bin will inexplicably turnout to be an old enemy and attempt to murder you instead of performing the ceremony. It will happen. I'm merely trying to prepare for it."
"You're serious aren't you? You're actually thinking of inviting one of my enemies so you can plan for a disruption."
"I've sorted them by threat level and eace of access."

Wayne glanced toward Steris. "'Ello Crazy," he said, nodding to her.

"Hello, Idiot," she said, nodding back.