45
" She sat for a moment, feeling the rhythmic rattle of the train’s motion. “Does it ever bother you to be in his shadow, Wayne?”
“Who? Wax? I mean, he’s been putting on weight, but he’s not that fat yet, is he?” He grinned, though that faded when she didn’t smile back. And, in an uncharacteristic moment of solemnity, he slid his boots off the table and rested one elbow on it instead, leaning toward her.
“Nah,” he said after some thought. “Nah, it doesn’t. But I don’t care much if people look at me or not. Sometimes my life is easier if they ain’t looking at me, ya know? I like listening. "
― Brandon Sanderson , The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn, #6)
46
" We both know the kandra wanted him on this mission, and they arranged the meeting with me to try to hook him. At the precinct, when I accomplish something, everyone assumes I had Waxillium’s help. Sometimes it’s like I’m no more than an appendage.”
“You’re not that at all, Marasi,” Wayne said. “You’re important. You help out a lot. Plus you smell nice, and not all bloody and stuff.”
“Great. I have no idea what you just said.”
“Appendages don’t smell nice,” Wayne said. “And they’re kinda gross. I cut one outta a fellow once.”
“You mean an appendix?”
“Sure.” He hesitated. “So…”
“Not the same thing.”
“Right. Thought you was makin’ a metaphor, since people don’t need one of those and all. "
― Brandon Sanderson , The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn, #6)
48
" We need a distraction, an excuse to leave. Something believable, but not too disconcerting … What is that?”
Steris had removed a small vial of something from her purse. “Syrup of ipecac and saltroot,” she said. “To induce vomiting.”
He blinked in shock. “But why…”
“I had assumed they might try to poison us,” Steris said. “Though I considered it only a small possibility, it’s best to be prepared.” She laughed uncomfortably.
Then she downed the whole thing.
Wax reached for her arm, but too late. He watched in horror as she stoppered the empty vial and tucked it into her purse. “You might want to get out of the splash radius, so to speak.”
“But … Steris!” he said. “You’ll end up humiliating yourself.”
She closed her eyes. “Dear Lord Waxillium. Earlier, you spoke of the power of not caring about what others thought of you. Do you remember?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you see,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling, “I’m trying to practice that skill.”
She proceeded to vomit all over the table. "
― Brandon Sanderson , The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn, #6)