#[ THE REASON ROBIN WAS WATCHING IN THE SHADOWS WAS CAUSE OF HIS KING I AM WEEPING ]

[unusdesilva]

     “I’ll go for a smoke I said, it be a good lesson he said, stay till the end he insists,” WAS THIS ALL IN THE PLAN RICHARD?! WAS IT!?

[cherryrogers]

when dusk falls {2}

DYING LIGHT

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | royal au

warnings: mentions of death, angst — reader is in her sad hours :/

summary: As you arrive in Hydra, you reluctantly begin to adjust to your new life.

a/n: i can’t express how excited i am to get into this story. i’m so impatient i was mad that this is only chapter 2 bc i want to get deep into the plot so bad :( for now, i offer you a part that should be titled ‘rambling about random story aspects that add nothing to the plot’..... enjoy !!

series masterlist

The journey from Taria was everything but pleasant.

As the carriage was pulled further and further away from your beloved palace, you made sure to consume every ounce of green expanse before you reached the land borders, refusing to let the gorgeous greenery of your home fade from your mind in years to come.

Brock nattered endlessly in his seat beside you, almost pressed against you in the small space. You didn’t hear a word of it, tuning out the unnerving rasp of his voice, only focusing on the vibrancy through the window.

Passing cosy villages, and brilliant gardens, and glimmering lakes, you concluded that Taria would be a hard place for anyone to forget, nevermind it’s own princess. You noticed the smiling faces and giggling children as you passed through the Roseleaf village, one of the larger residential areas on the east of the land. The carefully tended front gardens filled with an array of rainbow hues, the young couples walking hand in hand along the paved road, the little red robins flitting from tree to tree — you took it all in.

You were sitting in that carriage for Taria; its people, its nature, its values. Being sent away to a bitter nightmare of a land for the sake of your kingdom’s safety and happiness. Because that’s what a princess would do for her land. Protect it with her life.

The promise of its safety was the sole thing stopping you from breaking down into sobs next to Brock. There was no choice, there never would be between your freedom and your people.

The last bearable moment of your journey ended when the carriage reached the end of Taria, and the beginning of the Heartlen Ocean — the body of water that connected Taria and Hydra.

You’d been transferred onto a large sailing boat, one significantly bigger than the rowing boats scattered along the docks. In a tiny cabin below the main deck of the ship, you were escorted to and told to rest, as the voyage across the sea would be long and the waters would only be calm for another few hours. Of course, the seas around Hydra were vicious and rough, but you refused to sleep under their watch. You couldn’t if you wanted to. Every emotion under the sun was coursing through your veins; fear, anger, despair. Putting your mind at rest was impossible. It was as if they’d disregarded the fact they’d practically kidnapped you, and were complicit in the agreement that was forcing you into sudden marriage with the son of a cruel dictator.

You feared you’d never sleep peacefully again.

It took seven hours to arrive at Hydra. During that time, you’d remained under the deck, quiet as a mouse. Staring at the divots in the dark wood of the ship, knees tucked tightly to your chest, bare feet almost numb from the drop in temperature as you entered Hydra’s vicinity.

Thinking about Sharon, how adamant she was on getting you out of Taria before you could be taken. About Steve, who’d been burdened with the knowledge of the agreement and sworn to secrecy. About your parents, who entirely blamed themselves for the ordeal, even while having no other choice.

Perhaps if they’d sailed back a little earlier, noticed the signs of early labour quicker, or just not been so foolish as to seek help from the most selfish man on the planet, their daughter would be safe at home. Their princess. And she’d be free, happy.

But it was too late. It’d been too late from the moment their little rowing boat left the docks twenty years prior.

Seven hours, and you’d ended up in the bitter Kingdom of Hydra. Two soldiers escorted you off the boat, rushing you towards another black carriage identical to the one you’d been taken in at the palace. The sky had fallen significantly darker, a thick grey mist shielding the ground below from the sun’s warmth. Icy air bit at your skin, had your teeth chattering and lips numb the second you rose from below the ship’s deck.

Those around you remained unfazed, used to the freezing climate. To the dull skies and unsaturated expanse. Taria was to them what Hydra was to you — an entirely different reality.

Brock noticed you shivering in the carriage beside him, chuckling mockingly at your discomfort. Ignoring him, your eyes burned holes in the fabric of your dress in your lap. You didn’t want to let your gaze wander outside, seeing a cold, monotonous space rather than the colourful liveliness you adored back home.

Again, you passed through villages. Villages that were anything but reflections of those in Taria. The houses were much smaller, more compact than cozy. No quaint plants and shrubs complimenting the open front of the house, no bouncing children or chirping birds. Each house appeared identical, and not a soul was in sight. Likely huddling up in their homes, out of the cutting wind that’d soon transform into a bustling blizzard.

You caught sight of a figure in the window of the last home along the lane, only for a moment. A child, a boy. His high cheekbones and pin-straight nose stuck out to you. A frown played on his lips as he observed the carriage travel by, the same one he’d seen the day before, led by the same dark horses that sent shivers down his spine.

Cheering up the children back home seemed to be a gift you possessed. Not that they often weren’t baring toothy smiles, but when they wandered the palace garden and the markets with a solemn expression for whatever reason that day, it was instinct for you to lift their spirits. A box of red velvet cupcakes or some children’s books that’d been sitting in your library for years seemed to do the trick, and each and every time, it was heartwarming to watch the light reappear in their doe eyes.

Yet that boy, along with the thousands of other children living day-to-day under King Alexander’s rule — their happiness wasn’t something you could provide them with. Not when the man was stripping you of your own joy. When you were losing the light you were always eager to share with those who needed it.

If Taria was the planet’s garden, then Hydra was it’s graveyard. A place where dreams died before they could even begin to flourish. Where nobody desired to live, where too many people were forced into a meagre existence. And you were simply another soul Hydra had stolen for itself.

Another couple of hours passed again until the castle finally came into sight, only barely among the cloudiness of the night. The castle you’d only heard horror stories about, where too much blood had been shed and lives lost. And it was where you were going to live for the rest of your days. The thought alone put a deep frown on your lips.

You were exhausted. It’d been an early rise for you that morning; up and ready by eight o’clock, you took a trip to the markets before it was busy and stock was selling fast. You were to be back by nine for breakfast with your parents, but one of the merchants had been insisting you tried one of her cinnamon sugar pretzels, doused with golden syrup, which were usually sold out within hours of the stall opening. The sweet treat was delicious, you’d found, and you’d bought three more to bring back to Sharon and your parents.

A simple, lovely morning. And how quickly the day turned sour.

The urge to sleep was tugging at your eyelids, but you suppressed the need, nipping at your wrist to keep yourself awake. You’d have to succumb to sleep eventually, but you’d do it in the comfort of a bed far away from any soldiers, far away from Brock. Still, the thought of falling into such a vulnerable state, in the castle appearing more and more enormous as the carriage approached it, was indeed unnerving.

It looked like something out of a story book. Dark grey brick, looming towers with tall turrets atop them, an unnecessarily large gate guarding the inside — the image of a villain’s abode.

All underneath a shadow black sky, without a star in sight. No light, no hope. Only darkness.

The carriage continued along a winding, rubble path, it’s destination being the towering gate where six soldiers stood guard. With every yard you grew closer, your heart only pounded harder against your ribs. You’d truly fallen into a never ending nightmare; reaching the castle was only the beginning of it.

It was so cold. The thin dress and lack of any footing was certainly not helping your cause. As the carriage came to a final stop, your legs only barely allowed you to climb out of the transport without slipping to your knees. A soldier remained by your side, silent and still, while Brock ordered the remaining men to take the horses back to the stables.

Upon spying their commander, the soldiers stood guard ordered for the portcullis to be lifted, and soon an echoing clanging noise filled your ears.

While you weren’t eager to enter, the cold had already numbed your fingers and toes. You feared you’d fall ill if you were outside any longer, not that you imagined the inside of such a menacing castle would be any more comfortable.

“Inform the king of our arrival as soon as he wakes.” Brock called out to the lone soldier, who nodded curtly before marching away, into the darkness of the castle corridors.

Like a baby deer, you were left shivering in the cold, eyes wide and legs stiff. Brock took his sweet time striding over to you, before his lips curled into a condescending smile.

“Welcome home, Princess,” He teased, making a gesture towards the enigma of a building behind him. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers.”

With reluctance, you followed him into the castle, wincing at the clang of the gate beginning to shut again behind you.

The stone pavement of the castle was hard against the soles of your feet, as you paced quickly to keep up with Brock’s stalk. Lanterns scattered along the thick brick walls illuminated what would be the pitch black hall he walked you down, a faint smoky scent in the air.

For what felt like hours, you winded around corners and through halls, wondering if you’d ever make it to your chambers. Brock talked, asking silly, mocking questions that you didn’t waste your breath answering, arms crossed firmly over your chest.

Until he said something that made your blood boil a little hotter in your freezing body.

“I’m in shock of your compliance, Princess,” He smirked over his shoulder as he guided you up a dark staircase. “Already accepting the King’s plans for you?”

A scowl pulled at your lips. “I haven’t accepted anything. This isn’t compliance, this is me being here to protect my own.”

“Ah, she speaks!” Brock chuckled grimly, the sound bouncing off the walls of the narrow stairway. “Can she put a smile on, too?”

You ignored him. He laughed again, expecting it.

At the top of the stairs, a long corridor presented itself, identical to the hundred you’d already walked through. It was only at the very end of it that you finally stood still, eyes landing on an old wooden door, deep brown with no pattern etched into it. So plain, so dull — you’d never seen a castle so ancient with so little life.

“This room has been assigned to you until you and the prince are wed,” Brock spoke, pressing a rough hand to the door handle and pushing it open. “A maid will arrive when you wake to prepare you for the morning.”

“The morning?” You raised a brow.

“When you are to meet the king,” A grin tugged at his lips. “He is indeed eager to meet his future daughter-in-law.”

The feeling isn’t mutual, you thought, but kept it to yourself as you shuffled through the open door.

A singular lantern to your left enlightened the space before you.

Dreary like the rest of the castle, the room almost blended into the deep sky through the large window straight ahead of you. Translucent navy drapes hung from the chestnut bed frame, the singular bed topped with a sheet of similar colouring tucked into the corner of the room. A tall closet opposed it, likely filled with dresses that the maids had tailored to your size (however they learned that information). The hardwood flooring pressed into your feet; you already missed the soft crimson carpet that covered the expanse of your bedroom back home. There was a door off to the left, presumably leading into a small bathing room, and a long silver mirror on the other wall reflected its dark presence against the smoky grey brick.

And that was all. No books, no chestnut desk to sit at and swipe red on your lips or rose on your cheeks. Nothing to simply pass the time of waiting for a wedding you were utterly dreading.

Brock grinned a goodnight from the corridor, and you couldn’t even turn around before the echo of his boots filled the narrow, empty space.

A frown immediately pulled at your lips, as you gently closed the door behind you, the click of the lock prompting tears to form in the corners of your eyes.

As you tenderly removed your dress, hanging it up in the back of the wardrobe, you bit your lip to keep your emotions at bay. The braclets you’d slipped on at home remained on your wrist, a reminder of where you truly belonged. You played with them as you blew out the candle light, stealing the only spec of warmth from the room.

The nightdress you’d been given was thin, the creamy linen not doing much to shield you from the icy air that managed to nip at you in every corner of the castle. Sighing, you padded over to the bed, climbing under the fresh sheets, and that’s when the first tear fell. Burning hot as it trickled down your cool cheek.

That bitter night, you weren’t blessed with the pleasure of a long slumber. One salty tear turned into two, and two into many, many more.

And so, your most disconcerting nightmare began.

* * *

Dreams were deadly; you soon learned that after waking from your first night of sleep in the grand castle situated at the very bottom of Hydra’s land.

Perhaps a nightmare would’ve been easier on your mind. It certainly would’ve prepared you for the daunting reality you’d wake up to in a few mere hours. Because you dreamt that you were back in Taria. That Hydra’s soldiers didn’t step foot on your home land, that you’d finished that chapter of your enthralling novel, that Sharon returned to the library with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, and the two of you rested there for the remainder of the day. Uninterrupted, safe.

A soft but urgent knock on your bedroom door woke you from the sweet dream that morning, and upon recognising the drab setting you were in — still dark, the sun rays being rejected rudely by the thick heavy clouds encompassing the land — the harsh reality of your new life came flooding back.

Creaking quietly, the bedroom door opened ajar, an unfamiliar figure peeking through into the room. A woman, a girl even. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Her eyes widened as they drifted to the corner of the room, spying you still clutching the navy bed sheets to your chin.

“Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you; I was told to come here at ten on the dot. My name is Wanda, I was happy to learn I’ve been assigned as your maid, Princess.”

Blinking, your vision became a little clearer. Clear enough to assess the girl frozen in her place in the doorway. Strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her back, pulled back loosely at her neck with a burgundy ribbon. As you propped yourself against the headboard of the bed, her doe eyes got impossibly wider. Brushing out the creases of her moss green skirt, she stood taller, pressing her lips into a thin line.

So nervous in your presence, she seemed. You wondered if the treatment she received from the royals of Hydra had something to do with it.

“It’s— It’s quite alright.” You swallowed, possibly more anxious than she was. If you weren’t so exhausted from the journey to the castle, you likely wouldn’t have slipped into a slumber so easily. That was after you’d sobbed until air could no longer be snatched from your lungs, and you drifted off with a sore throat and tear tracks staining your cheeks.

You’d fallen asleep between the same walls as one of the most ruthless kings to date, as well as an army of remorseless soldiers ready to comply with his every order. The thought made you shudder; that, and the sheets falling from your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool room.

Wanda crinkled her brows, picking up on your discomfort. Slowly, as if not to cause you any more distress, she slipped between the open door and closed it behind her.

“I’ll run a hot bath for you, Your Highness. I’m afraid it’ll have to be quick; King Alexander would like you escorted to the throne room within the hour.”

You remained quiet. Still barely awake, still barely able to comprehend the situation you’d so quickly fallen into.

The maid clasped her hands in front of her, considering her next words carefully before offering the tip of her lips. “I understand that you only arrived here a mere several hours ago, Your Highness — I think a warm bath will only do you good, if I may say.”

It would have certainly been nice, considering the climate you’d been forced into abruptly. You’d picked up on some of Brock’s ramblings in the carriage the night before; he’d said something about a blizzard being on its way. Judging by the thick fog and the chill already bringing goosebumps to your skin, he was right. You weren’t looking forward to the process of adapting to the weather.

As soon you gave Wanda the faintest hint of a nod, the girl rushed towards the adjoining bathing room you had yet to familiarise yourself with, and soon enough the harsh streaming of water began to fully wake you for the morning.

Lavender swarmed your senses as you stepped into the small room, observing Wanda as she swirled oil into the warm water with a delicate hand. Throwing a smile over her shoulder, the maid shook off her hand before wiping it quickly on her skirt.

“I hand-picked the lavender and made the oil myself this morning. I’ll be honest, I’m not meant to leave the castle unless I’m ordered to do so, but with a storm brewing, I was eager to collect as many herbs and flowers as possible before my duties for the day started,” A soft chuckle left her lips, before she shook her head, a rosy tint pooling in her cheeks. “Forgive me, I— I haven’t served a lady in several years. I can’t imagine my rambling would amuse the men of the castle.”

If your mood hadn’t been so sour, perhaps you would have smiled at her excitement. The happiness others radiated you tended to absorb; no wonder every moment on Taria was an enjoyable one.

It astounded you how bubbly the strawberry blonde appeared. A delicate daisy in a daunting forest — she bloomed without sunlight. Of course, it could’ve been an act in front of the prince's bride-to-be, but there was a certain spark to her that felt genuine. Maybe it really was because of the presence of another woman.

King Alexander’s wife — the former queen of Hydra — had died almost a decade earlier. Being so young and out of the loop with politics and the states of other kingdoms, you hadn’t heard much about her at all. Even if you were older, you’d likely not hear anything more. If she ever engaged in politics, attended balls or kept in touch with other queens across the seas, she was very quiet in doing so. Queen Mara of Hydra — the only time you heard her name spoken was when she passed. As a child, when the severity of death and its impact on kingdoms was so foreign to you.

You assumed Wanda used to serve the late queen; perhaps she was more pleasant than her husband. For Wanda’s sake, you could only have hoped so.

“Thank you, Wanda.” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper. The maid wouldn’t have heard you if she was standing any further away.

But she did, and she curtsied in return. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The bath was nice, you’d admit. Like a warm hug after a long day. Except your day had barely started, and as soon as you were to step out of the heavenly hot water, you’d be pulling on a dress that wasn’t sewed by the dressmakers you’d known since childhood, making your way down to a throne room you were completely unfamiliar with, and meeting a king that you had no interest in ever crossing paths with.

And soon enough, that was where you were.

Stood in the centre of a cold room, face to face with a man you’d only heard terrible stories of.

Wanda had picked out a garnet red dress for the morning. You hadn’t owned many red dresses back on Taria, preferring cooler tones like emerald green and the royal blue attire you’d arrived in Hydra with. And that dress seemed to be the only one that actually fit, your new one pinching tight at the waist. Though when Wanda was only offering you compliments as she combed out your hair and polished your shoes, you weren’t about to complain.

It wasn’t the dress that was stealing the breath from your lungs, however. It was the monarch who sat proudly in his dark throne before you.

Four soldiers either side of the throne stared straight past you, as the king himself stared at you. Sandy blond hair laced with grey fell over his forehead, and he wore a solemn expression as he eyed the new arrival to his kingdom.

“Princess _____ of Taria,” Alexander spoke, the rasp in his voice bringing goosebumps to your skin. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance.”

You remained stoic, refusing to meet the eyes of a king who was more monster than man. As you looked to the right of the throne, you spied Brock among the soldiers too, observing you with interest.

The king soon realised that you were immensely uncomfortable; it wasn’t like he’d expected you to act any different.

He glanced over his shoulder, silently calling Brock over. The commander was at his side almost immediately. So cocky in front of you, and so obedient to the king — typical.

“Take the soldiers outside,” He ordered calmly, before leaning forward to murmur something inaudible to Brock, who nodded firmly, then making a swift exit with the ever-submissive soldiers behind him.

Soon enough, you and the king were left alone. The silence was deafening as you awaited his next words, both reluctantly and with anticipation.

The throne room was so large, so intimidating. Walls scattered with grand portraits of previous monarchs, small square windows barely letting any sunlight pour through; not to mention how your hands were almost numb. It was difficult not to miss the beaming sun in Taria, how it would seep through the curtains on a bright morning, how the warmth would dance across your skin and the light would reflect in your eyes.

It was almost as if Hydra completely blocked it out.

The king exhaled, clasping his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his seat. “If you have anything you would like to say, by all means, don’t keep quiet on my account.”

Considering him for a moment, you tightened your jaw. It was like he could sense the hundreds of questions swarming your mind. While you worried that he wouldn’t be so impressed with what you wanted to say to him, he couldn’t reprimand you for anything. Not when you were to marry his son. Anything you said wouldn’t matter once you left the room; he’d had your fate in his hands since the moment you were born.

Your eyes flit to his, tears burning at the back of them. “My parents were desperate for your help—”

“And I helped them.” He commented nonchalantly; his disinterest feeling like a slap to the face.

“You took advantage of them,” You corrected him, not appreciating the interruption. “They wouldn’t have accepted your deal if my mother’s life wasn’t at stake.”

Idly fiddling with the rings encircling his fingers, Alexander sighed. “Things have a certain way of falling into place, I believe. I’m not sure it’s a coincidence that your mother happened to go into labour on the same day that her and your father decided to sail across the Heartlen Ocean, stray further from Taria than they ever had before, leaving Hydra’s help as their own hope.”

“This was never meant to happen, I refuse to believe that.” You shook your head. Taria was the only place you’d ever belong. Only selfish men like the king had a true place in Hydra.

“You were born here, Princess. You took your first breath of air in this castle. It was inevitable that you would find your way back.”

“I am not here by choice,” You insisted, resisting the urge to yell, to scream about how much you hated the man in front of you for snatching your life away right before your eyes. “Hydra has allies, with kings and queens that would be more than glad to arrange a marriage between their daughters and your son, yet you chose Taria’s princess before I was even born — why?”

Hydra’s group of allies were certainly limited, but they weren’t the only kingdom that idealised a dictatorship and control over every aspect of their land. The king could have made strong connections with them, people who shared his mentality, his brutal methods. But he didn’t. He did the complete opposite, and that was extremely odd.

The king contemplated answering the question, he truly did. Words hanging from the tip of his tongue. But instead, he waved you off with a steady hand. “The answer to that will be clear in due time.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to protest, but you were soon interrupted by his booming voice unexpectedly.

“Bring in the Asset.”

His stare diverted, until it was focused on something behind you. Heavy footsteps clambered outside the room, along the echoey hall until they reached the doors of the throne room. They opened with an eerie creak, and upon throwing a look over your shoulder, your breath immediately hitched.

Three soldiers stood either side of, well, another soldier. But he wasn’t like them, not at all. His presence managed to freeze you in your stance, unable to fully turn around.

He was tall, a great deal taller than the other soldiers. Dark, untamed locks fell around his angular face, framing his sharp jaw and chiselled cheekbones. And he was so broad. The soldier attire almost looked more fitting on him, with his wide shoulders and muscular thighs. Protecting his shoulders were the same metal plates, with that same red star imprinted on the left side. A gasp almost escaped your lips when you noticed his arm, shimmering silver even in the dull light. The man, he couldn’t be another mere soldier. And he wasn’t — they called him the Asset.

For some reason, they wanted you to meet him.

With a proud expression, Brock met your eyes as he led the soldier in your direction, stopping only a foot away before he stepped to the side.

You swallowed, forcing your body to turn around, and you were met with perhaps the only splash of bright colour in the castle.

Azure blue eyes pierced into yours, making your palms clam and your knees weak. Unlike the other soldiers, he didn’t just stare past you; he stared through you, with eyes that were so blue yet so dim. His features remained blank, but even then his eyes burning into you made you feel small, almost too seen.

“I understand that you never took on a personal guard in Taria,” The king spoke from behind you. “I won’t be as foolish as your parents to leave you without one here.”

He gave a nod to Brock, who stepped towards you and the soldier, waving the other soldiers away with a hand. A grin tugged at his lips as he turned back to you. “The Asset is the best soldier we have. His only mission is to protect your life at all costs.”

Your brows pinched, and you just about managed to pull your eyes from the soldier’s to Brock’s. “Am I in such a state where I need a guard with that sole mission? Your best soldier, at that?”

“There are some cruel people living in Hydra, Princess. We wouldn’t want any of them getting their hands on you.” The man answered, practically smirked, knowing you’d already fallen into such hands.

But he was right, in a sense. Hydra’s royals weren’t exactly immune to danger. Rebellions were rare, but another one at any given time wasn’t an impossibility. Especially if the rebels believed your parents had chosen for you to marry into Hydra’s kingdom — you were fresh blood, and that made you an easy target for them.

If it wasn’t the rebels trying to hurt you, it’d be those that could simply for the fun of it. Because crime was so normalised there; everyone was constantly on edge, scared for their safety when night fell and silent shadows began to rome the unprotected villages. It was no way to live.

“He’ll be at your side at all times,” He continued. “Day and night; he’ll only rest when he must. Refer to him as ‘soldier’ and nothing else; he’s a guard, not your friend.”

You wouldn’t have expected anything else.

The king perked up from behind you, almost making you flinch. “Soldier, take the princess back to her chambers. A maid will arrive shortly with a meal for her.”

Huffing quietly, you glared over your shoulder. Apparently they weren’t stripping you of your freedom gradually, but completely all at once. Wonderful.

His expression remained nonchalant as he tipped his head at you. “I’m afraid my son is dealing with political affairs out of the kingdom today; he won’t be in attendance tonight. You’re to meet Isaac at breakfast tomorrow. I can assure you, he is looking forward to the pleasure of your company.”

If only you could say the same.

Your eyes turned back to the soldier, who had already spun around and was ready to comply with the king’s order. Soon enough, he was leading you out of the grand room, back to your sombre chambers.

The walk was silent; he wouldn’t talk to you, of course — it wasn’t in his job nature to do so. Even him, a tall, cold-eyed, man who was more muscle than anything else, was so obedient. Too obedient. So compliant that his expression never changed, he wouldn’t speak to you because he’d been strictly ordered not to, and his sole purpose was deemed to be the protection of your life. And he didn’t bat an eye. You wondered why. Why they were all soldiers first and humans not even second, but never at all.

You thought about the truth behind the soldier’s cold exterior for the rest of the dreary day.

Back in the throne room, seconds after he saw you wind around the corner into the dark corridor with your guard, Brock approached his king with a questioning crinkle in his brow.

“Your Highness, while I would never doubt your methods, I’m concerned that without a routine mind-wipe, we may begin to lose control over the Asset.”

Alexander considered his words. “Truthfully, I believe his brain has been tampered with enough to permanently erase his past from his mind. Alas, if he begins to show signs that his memory is recovering, you’ll know what to do.

As long as the princess doesn’t get any foolish ideas, the Asset shouldn’t pose a problem to us at all.”

[peppersonironi]

Batfam Whumptober Day Five

{Read on Ao3}

No.5: On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

Summary: Damian is sent to rescue Red Robin from a sting-gone-wrong, but finds Tim more than a little roughed up. Damian panics at the sight of his heavily wounded brother, and strains to keep him alive long enough for help to arrive.

A/N: I think this might be my favorite work this month! It took way longer than expected, and I'm sorry for that, but I hope it's worth it. It actually has angst this time!

Tw: Light blood and injury (not graphic) and some torture (not graphic I think?)

Damian blinked down seriously at the Gotham warehouse. It was highly guarded, with twenty-seven security cameras in, on, and around the premises. There were also over a dozen guards with heavy machine guns patrolling the perimeter. Whatever they were protecting was important. Unfortunately, Damian knew what it was.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Drake?” He muttered to himself.

The assignment that Red Robin had taken upon himself for the week was supposed to be simple: an out of town drug trafficking ring. The criminals were newcomers, so they’d be easy to take care of. In theory.

Instead, the cave had received a distress call from Tim twenty minutes ago. Batman was off-world with the League, Grayson was in Bludhaven, Cain was in Hong Kong, Todd was off doing whatever the h*** he did with the outlaws. The only ones on patrol that night besides Drake and Damian was Brown and Aunt Kate. But they were handling a robbery in progress across the city.

And so, Robin being the only vigilante in the near vicinity, Damian found himself causing the origin of Red Robin’s signal.

He was not having fun.

But Damian was determined to save his idiot of a brother by himself. Otherwise Thomas would have to be awakened from his ‘normal’ sleep schedule and sent out. Damian didn’t need help.

“Robin, how’s it looking?”

Damian startled at the sound of Gordon in his ear. “Fine, Oracle. The adversaries are heavily armed and have high security for foreigners, but nothing I am unable to handle.”

“Alright, Robin,” she answered cautiously, “but alert me immediately if that changes. The Signal can be up and out at a moment's notice.”

Damian scoffed as he pulled out his grappling hook and made his way to the roof of the warehouse. “Signal is not needed. And I hardly think he’d appreciate being awoken.”

“He’s well aware that he’s on standby for emergencies,” Oracle replied, “especially when Bats is out of town.”

Damian grunted as he took out a few guards standing by the entrance to the roof. “Can’t talk,” he replied, “I’m going in.”

*****

Damian crept around the warehouse silently, starting with the upstairs offices. He found countless damaging contracts, and paper files. Pictures, and evidence. He recorded it all and sent it to Oracle, but there was still no sign of Red Robin.

That is, until he reached the stairs leading down to the main warehouse.

When Damian reached the door at the bottom of the stairs, he paused. There was something off, but he couldn’t quite place it. He strained his ears, searching for some out of place sound. He found it.

A moment later, a scream cut through the air, causing the boy to stiffen. He knew that Scream.

Drake.

He slowly eased the door open, heart pounding, Damian slunk in the shadows, approaching the source of the moans, grunts, and sounds of pain. He made his way atop the ctreates, and flew up into the rafters. Then ran along the beam towards the center of the building.

What Damian saw next rooted him in his place.

“I’ll ask you one more time, brat!” Bronte Jones, the Boston drug king in charge of the Gotham branch, yelled straight at Drake.

Oh, Drake.

Damian gagged at the state of his brother. Timothy Drake was tied down to a metal chair, his cape ripped off and tossed to the side. The rest of his uniform was in equal disorder, ripped, burned, and bloody. The exposed parts of his skin were bruised, cut, or in some other way harmed.His mask was mostly left alone, probably due to the anti-tampering measures built into every mask and cowl.

Tim coughed, and spit blood to the side. “Nope.”

Bronte growled, before launching forward and punching Red Robin in the jaw. Hard. So hard that the chair rocked backwards, and one of the goons needed to hold it steady.

“You will tell me the identities of yourself, and the other Gotham vigilantes. You will tell me the best drug parts in this town. Or else you will die in this warehouse. Wouldn’t want your little clan dealing with that, now would you?”

Tim grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Damian scowled. No, no, no! Don’t antagonize the kidnapper! It’s protocol!

But Drake didn’t hear Damian’s silent pleading. He only laughed.

Bronte didn’t seem to know what was so funny, so he continued on with his beating. A few punches later, and Damian found himself gripping the rafters. He should do something, he knew that, but he just. Couldn’t. Move. All he did was watch on in horror.

Bronte paused with his punches, taking a breath. “This clearly isn’t working,” he stated, “let’s kick it up a notch.

Jones walked over to a crate, atop which an array of tools lay on it. The man passed over newly quenched cigarettes - oh god, he’d use those on Drake, hadn’t he? The burns matched up - wrenches, knives, and garrotes. His hand landed on a batton that Damian recognised immediately.

“Oh no,” he whispered, his face going white.

Jones turned back to Red Robin, and shoved the baton into his ribs. Tim let out a scream at the sudden crackle of electricity that even Damian could hear from high up.

“How about we wait for the other bats to show up?” Bronte asked conversationally, still torturing Tim. “What do you think they’ll give to get one of their birds back?”

Tim laughed, though the sound came out more like a hacking cough. Blood leaked down his chin. “No one’s coming for me,” he said, “they’re all too busy. Or they hate me.”

Damian startled. What? No, that wasn’t true. He and Drake were past their hatred, weren’t they? Hadn’t he proven himself? Hadn’t he showed he cared?

Bronte growled, before signalling to his goons. “Fine, I guess there’s no reason to keep you alive then.”

Damian gasped. No, no this couldn’t happen! He glanced around, searching for something to aid his rescue attempt, there were too many men to handle on his own.

“Oracle, send Signal.” Damian muttered, knowing the microphone would pick his words up. He didn’t have time to listen for an answer though, it was time to act.

Robin leapt down from the heights of the warehouse, drawing his katana mid flip. He landed efficiently in front of Bronte Jones, glaring at the man who had dared to hurt his brother.

“Step away from Red Robin,” he said slowly, rising to his full height of five feet, two inches.

The man laughed. “You little brat. You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

Damian tilted his head, radiating confidence that most definitely did not feel. “Very well,” he stated stiffly. “It is your funeral, as Nightwing says.”

A moment later, and he attacked. It was not as clean as he usually would, he was still fighting down panic, it was wild and desperate. But he still fought.

He downed four goons before he realised his current tactic wasn't working. He dodged a volley of bullets, he eyes falling upon Drake. The young man had slouched down in the chair, his eyes closed. Damian let out a curse in arabic. That idiot! He needed to stay awake!

Damian leapt forward, past the goons and Jones, past the table with horrid tools, past the downed bodies, and towards his brother. He threw down a smoke pellet to disguise his movements, and continued on his way. Once the area was completely covered, he attacked one more thug, intent on keeping up an illusion of his constant attacks.

Quickly, he made his way towards the out of commission vigilante, efficiently removing the rope bonds, and pulling him gently close. Damian could recognize broken ribs when he saw them.Once he was certain that Red Robin was secure at his side, he lifted up his grapple, and they rose swiftly out of the smoke. A moment later, along with a few more grapples, they were on an opposite roof.

Damian set his brother down, glancing behind for followers. The coast was clear.

“Red Robin?” Damian asked, leaning close. “Are you alright?” he cursed himself. Of course Drake wasn’t alright! Of all the times to act like Grayson, this was hardly it.

There was no response to his query, causing Damian to throw aside his self-flagellation.

“Drake?” Damian demanded more harshly. “Wake up! You are needed! You can’t die, that’s an order!” More silence. “Did you hear that? An order! From me! You hate me commanding you, so stick up for yourself!”

Damian breathed heavily, silently shaking. No, no no no! Drake couldn’t die!

“I…” Damian blinked, trying to figure out a course of action, but he couldn’t. He was frozen in place. mHe closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose, trying to calm himself.

“Dami?”

Damian gasped ever so slightly and looked down at the beaten and battered form of his brother. “Timothy? You’re alright?”

Timothy let out a light cough. “Seen better. Thanks for coming to get me.”

Damian couldn’t bring himself to make a sharp comeback. He just blinked down at his brother. He was awake. He was alive. He would be fine.

“Kay,” Drake said, “good talk. I’m gonna go to sleep now…”

Damian stiffened. “What? No! Timothy, you can’t!”

But the young man didn’t listen. Damian scrambled forward, grabbing his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to wake him as hard as he dared.

“Timothy?” Damian asked again, unable to strain the worry from his voice, “You can’t die. Father will be mad, and Grayson will stop functioning, and Todd will go on a rampage, and Brown will hide away, and Cain will strain herself to help everyone else while still falling apart, and Pennyworth won’t be able to live much longer with another heartbreak, he’s ancient as is. And Thomas won’t be able to handle it all either. And I…”

Damian paused, taking a shaky breath, before letting out a sentence that brought him both anguish and relief.

“Ahki, I don’t want you to die either!”

There were shouts from the surrounding buildings, feet hitting pavement, and Damian knew it was only a matter of time before they found them.

He reached over towards Timothy’s throat, searching for a heartbeat like he should have done from the beginning. He almost cried from relief when he felt the thrum. But it was weak. Too weak. He needed medical attention immediately, and not the kind at the cave. They needed Dr. Thompkins.

Damian stood up and searched the roof for something that could help them out of this situation. The tiniest part of him, who still thought like a league member, told him to run. To leave Timothy behind and run.

“No,” he told himself, “Timothy is stuck with me. We’re both getting out of this, or neither.”

The sounds of footsteps increased, thundering and shaking. They were closer, most likely from the stairwell leading to the roof both Robins now inhabited.

Damian drew his katana immediately and ran back to Red Robin, standing guard over his limp body. He would go down fighting, there was no other way he knew.

The tousling limbs and marching feet seemed to be all around him now - a part of him knew they weren’t really, that it was just his mind playing tricks. He took a breath, steadying himself.

“You and me, Timothy,” Damian spoke strongly, more to calm his own fear than anything else.

Just then the door to the roof slammed open, and in rushed three hulking thugs. Damian inhaled sharply - in fear, not that he’d ever admit it - and steadied his shaking hands.

But something was wrong. Instead of the goons rushing the pair of birds, they slumped to the ground. Behind them, standing in all his bright yellow glory, was The Signal. He had both escrima sticks drawn, and a grim smile on his face.

“Hey Robin,” he said, stepping over the bodies, “you called?”

*****

They made their way down to the street, able to carry between the two of them, and into the awaiting Batmobile. Thomas took the driver’s seat, Damian for once quiet about his ability to captain any moving vehicle, while the younger boy stayed with Timothy in the back.

The ride had been quiet, Duke not knowing what to say beyond the usual “what happened?” Damian shook when the question was asked, so Duke let it drop. An official report could be made later.

They made their way to Dr. Thompkins clinic, and came in the back way. She was already waiting - most likely due to Oracle calling ahead - and quickly ushered them into an awaiting room. Timothy, however, was brought someplace else.

Damian had resisted at first, panicking at the thought of his brother going anywhere out of sight, but Duke had pulled him back, easily disarming him and settling both of them on a bench. Damian had struggled and pulled and scratched and screamed in indignation, but Thomas hadn’t stopped holding on. Eventually, Damian’s anger gave way to huge, choking sobs. He hiccuped and curled his way into Duke’s chest, holding on for dear life. Duke just hummed and wrapped his arms around the terrified bird.

After a long, slow hour, Damian finally settled down into quiet whimpers. Duke continued to rub his back soothingly, but Damian couldn’t seem to fully calm down.

“He thought we wouldn’t come,” Damian choked out suddenly, and felt Duke steffen in surprise. “He said no one cared enough to save him. But I was right there, I watched them …”

Damian bit his lip to hold back another whimper, and Duke softened. “He was probably just saying that to get his captors to let him go,” Duke reasoned.

Damian hiccuped and shook his head, still tucked into Duke’s armored chest. “No, no he was right!”

Duke rubbed a little harder on his back. “No, he was-”

“I just stood there and watched!” Damian cried, “I came in and I saw what was happening, but I Could. Not. Move. I just … I  just watched.”

“Sounds to me like you froze,” Duke replied. “You’ve been doing this longer than I have Damian, you should know that everyone freezes at one point or another.”

Damian shook his head fervently, but didn’t reply. Couldn’t reply.

They remained silent for some time, every so often Duke offering soft reasurences that went unnoticed by Damian. Eventually, Leslie  came into the room.

“He’s stable,” she said when Duke looked over. Damian didn't have the energy to raise his head. “With some bed rest, he’ll be alright. You’re lucky you got to him when you did.”

Damian shuttered at the last word. No, he hadn’t been lucky. He’d been stupid, and weak. He shouldn’t have roze. He shouldn’t have-

Damian was jostled from his bout of self loathing when Duke stood up.

“Can we see him,” he asked.

Leslie nodded. “Follow me.”

*****

They settled down in the private room where Leslie had placed Timothy, but Damian couldn’t calm himself. He kept looking at his brother, bandaged, yes, but broken. He should have acted quicker.

Duke sat on the chair beside Tim’s bed, still carrying Damian. At another point, the boy would have profusely protested at such babying, but now he had no strength. Now, the most he could manage was tuck himself into Duke’s arms.

After a while, Duke rose, leaving Damian in the chair. He promised to return soon, just leaving long enough to call Babs and Steph & Kate, as well as grab something to eat. Maybe get some clothes as well.

“There’s that tea place near here you like, right?” Duke asked, and Damian mumbled his assent. “You’ll be alright?” he added right before leaving. “I won’t be gone forever. Try not to beat yourself up too much, okay?”

Damian straightened, trying to summon courage. “I …” he sank down, nodding tiredly.

Duke sighed softly and went out the door.

Damian sat staring at Drake for a long time. His brother didn’t move.

“Just wake up, ahki,” he sniffled.

*****

Tim was warm and comfortable. He felt the light fluffiness of pain meds blanket his senses, along with an actual blanket pulled all the way up to his shoulders. It felt warm and safe.

Wait - pain meds?

Tim blinked his eyes open, and briefly surveyed the room. It was one of the private ones in Leslie’s clinic, where they went when someone was seriously injured. Why was he here?

Oh.

The warehouse.

Tim mentally cringed at the flashes of memory that came with the realization. He’s delt with torture before, and honestly this time wasn’t the worst - fun fact: Ra’s Al Ghul lives up to the title “Demon’s Head - but he’d still gotten hurt. Thank goodness he’d sent out his distress signal and had gotten out. But he’d left Damian all alone to deal with the -

Damian.

Tim briefly panicked. Where was his brother? They’d gotten out, right? Maybe Duke had been woken up and provided back up, or Steph and Kate had-

A soft sniffle came from beside him.

Tim blinked and turned his head to find Damian tucked into a chair. He looked small, curled up like that. His hands gripped tightly at his Robin uniform. His eyes were unmasked and red, staring down at the floor. He sniffled again and rubbed at an eye.

“Just wake up, ahki.”

Oh.

It must have been bad.

Damian rarely cried.

But crying was good, in a way. He was alive, at least.

“Dami?” Tim croaked, finding his voice dry.

Damian jerked his face up, staring at Tim. His eyes were wide, and filled with relief. But also fear and … regret? Oh no, what had gone wrong?

“Dami,” he said again, a relieved smile on his face. “I knew you’d come.”

This had the opposite effect than expected. Damian’s eyes widened even more, and he scrambled backwards in his chair. “What?! No! You said-”

Tim sighed, “That was kind of stupid of me,” Tim cut in, “I thought if Bronte thought no one cared about me, then he’d just leave me behind long enough for one of you to grab me.”

Damian frowned. “But I still didn’t come fast enough. You were right. And when I got there I froze, Father would be so disappointed, I didn’t keep my head, and i-”

“Damian.” Tim interjected. “Come here.”

Damian pursed his lips, glancing at Tim’s injuries. But a moment later he complied, gingerly easing off of the chair and coming over towards the bed.

Tim held out his hand, and after a moment, Damian put his hand in his. Tim then pulled him closer, and rested the young boy's hand on his own chest. Right over the heart.

“Feel that?” he asked, and Damian nodded slightly. “I’m alive because of you okay? You came. I knew you would.”

Damian blinked back tears, and Tim was struck by just how young and vulnerable Damian looked. It wasn’t often the twelve year old let his walls down, and Tim felt guilty for bringing this on him. He seemed drained and exposed. Tim made a split second decision.

“Come on,” he said, scooching over as much as he could and patting the bed beside him.

“But-” Damian began, but Tim shushed him.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Dami.”

Damian sighed and came back onto the bed. Tim pulled him closer, and the boy automatically curled into his side. Tim wrapped his arms around his brother and sighed into his hair.

“I’m alright, okay? And so are you. It’s alright now, Dami.”

Damian sighed, “Thank you, ahki.”

Tim smiled at the arabic word for brother. He liked it when they got along, no matter the circumstances. Tim bent down slightly and pressed a kiss to Damian’s head. The small boy let out a breath, and eased into soft snores. Good, he needed sleep.

Tim settled in and relaxed. A few minutes later Duke walked in in his Signal armor carrying a tray of drinks, the logo showing they were from a middleeastern tea place that Damian loved. He was followed by Kate and Steph, both in their respective uniforms.

“You guys alright?” Kate asked, walking past Duke and sitting on the chair.

Tim smiled softly. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Great,” Steph replied. “Then get some sleep.”

Tim laughed lightly, but he was warm and tired - which may have something to do with the pain killers Duke was not so subtly putting in - and had his little brother willingly snuggling him. He smiled again as the darkness washed over him.

They were alright.

Tagging: @starrystories2

[tenaciouscupcaketaco]

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale

1989-2020 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale (Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale) From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.* ( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream, Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform. Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson. Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct. Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet. Mario William Vitale 1 Winfield Drive Wolcott, ct 06716 A Beacon Of Light Written by: Mario Vitale A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need ! Can't help but to claim.., Some sense of identity, Stregnth and encouragement only come from above ! Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull.., Lieth frightened but still yet adrift ! In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish, A true source of hope, Yet a most triumphal beam ! This beacon of light shineth forth, Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand.., To the most sparkling of radiance ! (2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale Home for the holiday from New Orleans, with Mother and Father at the tiny drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany table with the gold, grinning claw feet; Father, choler- red-in the-face, short- sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry. Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father : “Do you think Moll Flanders was a *****?” (I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.) I am silent before their replies. Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.” And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin as paper and the rose- colored bowl of blown glass sitting on the silver stand, half- filled with water.) “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless daughter” (3) Song of Spring Today I heard a robin sing heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky an ode to earth's awakening I saw a willow on the hill It's branches greening in the sun and all the earth seemed hushed & still sleeping streams began to run I heard a softly rising breeze whispering through the grass singing through the still bare trees waiting winter's chill to pass I saw the sun, so bright and warm warming the earth after the rain the buds and leaves, no frost to harm at least, at last, it's spring again. (4) The Ancients It's my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping to my knees unaware of invisibles within, grubbing in their tunnels A lizard taps my foot, responding, I muse to its touch, my thoughts like Indian visions, And when daylight mushrooms into night, and an owl hoots from cedar, I still sit with a lizard on my shoe Huddled with the ancients of the woods (5) Epiphany Written by: Mario Vitale It clings to the cliffed shore, to the wintered face of the thistle path, to the fingers of the old man's glove as he waves his memory homeward In that breath between come and go she moves up from the bay; gold turns her stride, the line of her dress, the soft sea pulling at her feet When he reaches out and the frail birds fly and the sun and the sky have married deep into the sea, it clings Even as his shadow threads retreat, it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist (6) A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell Written by: Mario Vitale Oh blessed hope ! Both hardly a believable dream, Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street... Send the troops home ! There is no clear reason for them to roam.., These are desolate times ! For we have chosen ill faded rhymes.., The casualties are enormous ? For a stated cause that clearly atrocious.., A mother's cry as the door chime rings, A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings ! Let us look above to all the heavenly love.., Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder.., Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder, Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag, In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil... As the sun heats up, Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil... In the vast game of life, One's time is so very brief ! The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief.., Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf.., Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another, To never give into the finish line.., Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out ! Like a famous fighter in his final bout ! Time will tell of the return home, To the open arms of a loved one ! (7) A Valiant Knight Written by: Mario Vitale A Valiant Knight Death springs a new day basking in the breeze In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place A far off castle in the mountains away from it all A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust Often they would disagree on who it was to serve A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy The maiden would often come forth and see For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet Having a way of words that he would often share The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good (8) Hampton Beach The smell of fresh fry doe Time had elapsed playing at the casino Fresh lobster with a side order of fries Those spacious wonderful sky's Down at the shell the continental were playing A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting Flip flops and the sound of laughter A playground for kids in the middle The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer (9) God's World It is raining again. Summer will be over before it ever gets here Thunder rolls far away, drops hit the windshield, the sky turns gray The Sunflower, the blue Delpinium, the white Stinkwood drink the moisture greedily. The green and silver leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the wind turns them round and round The creek flows on, oblivious to the change in the weather. A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a towering mountain Three cows slowly wend their way homeward. It is dusk. The gray clouds lift and the sun bursts through, before sliding behind the hills for the night It is God's World. He gives it to us to enjoy and to share with each other (10) Jake's House There was a man whose name was Jake Who had a house upon the lake Every morning he would wake And for breakfast have a piece of cake He had a private fishing hole; He always used a long cane pole He fried his fish on red hot coal And served it in a great big bowl For a pet, he had a cat (11) In The Zone Written by: Mario Vitale In The Zone whispers... through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base yet we dig much deep then ever before cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world we visually see a flash then a new day approaches on the lawn two lovers having passionate *** the screams of vile extreme explodes throughout perhaps this is the place where Nero tread yet again I sit alone in my house now huddled in the corner the twilight sun has tainted my inner vision the howls of Satanic laughter gives a piercing shriek through a candle was lit by the edge of my bed One can remain lax in the quietness of the moment yet again the setting of the sun a new day has begun as we embark on the moment Does death hurt you the most or is it fear You can equate logic through a firm grasp of the hand whispers again... then a faint cry, we construct living pyramids to honor the dead A stroke of luck an the impulse ensues onto so much more but for what are we grasping for straws what are we searching for ? quietness again this time I'm in the zone as if zombie creatures with viscous long fangs that bite dripping blood off side we run away to hide no one questions anymore no one has a voice alone one last time yet feelings of grandeur awake to the message of hope that spills from the sky a challenge to be free is a question of time eyes with spots digging holes in a pool of blood Satan laughing again spreads his wings Suddenly I awake but to what ? (12) An End Of The Age Of Innocence Part III Written by: Mario Vitale In our fast paced twentieth century world.., We oft' have neglected to stop to smell the roses, Oft' we used to bow our heads silently to pray, As we reflect back to the sixties is had launched a pad to rebellion ! With a vast amount of liberal bias and thinking, No wonder why our nation is sinking.., Sinking amidst a cuss pool of mere morality.., For now it is a quite different time, A very unique but different type of day.., An end of the age of innocence, One hath been enlightened.., From seeking truth, Some fresh out of a garbage can.., Yet for Gods' sake, He hath such an amazing plan ! Hence, to shun the broad road, Yet to seek to venture in the narrow.., Such as a distant bird in flight ! You might see this creature venture out at night ? Of the Eagle nor the Sparrow.., It used to mean something to have a sense of common courteous.., To hold open the door for your neighbor ? Yet for the time being we relent and waiver.., Would you prefer another taste of a certain ice cream flavor ? To ponder we must be content with who we are in the inside.., Nor, a mere fancy suit or blazing sport's car, Life is a roller coaster.., In what you do while busy making other plans.., Finding solace among the height of nature., Such to think at what is quite simple, As a young child reflects on his or her poster board, Playing with their magic crayons.., For in eternity it is such a very long time ! Take heed in what you do, Now is the expectant hour ! What will one choose to do ? There can be no place nor need for any compromise, Within it's vast perpetual spectrum ! One just can't put a price tag on a genuine but unique heart ! Hence, with honest integrity.., The time for change is today ! (13) He Was There by Mario William Vitale From the inner silence of the lamb he was there In welcoming to the world to share Within the multiple of words the mouth speaks As a heart beats through the passage of time To every poem that was ever written To every burden ever lifted To rivers crossing where people living Sometimes loving other moments giving In storms that were outside brewing What is the significance of this love In painted pictures from above To every soldier in a battle To every cow amidst the cattle Not a second glance at any real romance A field of dreams throughout our head From both fire and ice will make you think twice Perhaps another chance at a roll of the dice When every kingdom comes thy will be done Shadows in the shining morn if there's a rose it bears a thorn, He was there in every circumstance When they tried to throw stones at her He was there drawing a line with his finger in the sand It is my hope that some day all will understand A glance at the past will tell us of our future Amidst the inner pain & uncertainty Through shadows in a field of dreams In moments of solace amidst the pain A light moved out upon the street outside A day that wasn't meant to be Thorn crown was pulled upon his head Those shouts of intense anger from the mob There was only one who would help him back on his feet, A light that brought only a few to greet Let us not run away & hide Each one of our sins was placed on that cross To lose the battle now would end in tragic loss Father please forgive them for they know not what they do He said the prayer now the rest is up to you That cross that broke a sinful world apart With his blood-soaked crown with spear in side To show the whole world he had nothing to hide The summoned cry brought about healing in the sky Watch the free angelic dove fly! (14) Momma Of Pearls by Mario William Vitale Since there's nothing I could find That was worth giving you, I sat down to think a while And write a line or two If I had a magic wand I'd wave it just for you, And give you anything you'd like No matter how many or few If I could give you back the years You so willingly gave to me I'm sure that you spend them over again The same as they used to be Remember when those days and nights Instead of going to the fair I'd always say tell me again The story of the three little bears I tried to get a strawberry pie But they were out of season Then I thought of gold Mario William Vitale Written by Mario William Vitale 48/M/Wolcott, Ct 310 Please log in to view and add comments on poems

[neverwatchedonepiece]

648-649: "Making a Sortie! The Legendary Hero Usoland!" and "The Fierce Battle Coming to the End! Lucy vs Chinjao!"

*looks into the camera like in The Office*

The fight between Luffy and Don Chinjao is finally over! I think after what happened, Luffy might have found a new friend. Law also made a stressful phone call to The Krusty Krab Sunny and ordered delivery of one ship to Green Bit.

Zoro and Franky have teamed up with Sol at Resistance HQ in Flower Field, and if Usopp keeps perpetuating his fantastic bullshit, the entire Strawhat crew will be elevated to God status in the Tontatta tribe.

Slightly worried about Law and the Strawhats stuck on Sunny but I’m seventy percent certain they will pull through and won’t be captured by any Donquixote family affiliates. (The thirty percent left over remains a huge, nagging doubt.)

Luffy’s Tough Love Fight Therapy

The Colosseum showdown between Luffy and Don Chinjao picked up at the start of episode 649.

The action was fast and furious. Luffy pulled out all his quick moves: jet pistol, jet gatling, jet stamp gatling. All defended against by Chinjao. The crowd went wild. It was one of the greatest matches the Colosseum had ever seen! Some cheered for Lucy. Others cheered for Chinjao. The atmosphere was electric.

“You’re quite a fighter,” Don Chinjao said.

“Yeah, you’re strong too, as I thought,” Luffy answered. You know. Being honest as he is.

Don Chinjao totally overreacted. “WHAT U SAY? STRONG? U TRYIN TO INSULT MEH??”

Luffy was, quite rightly, bewildered. “Wtf, all I said was that you’re strong?”

Apparently, this was a grave insult to Don Chinjao. A huge kick in the ego. Chinjao had been much stronger before.

“I’m no better than a wolf without its fangs now. A skin-headed man without his drill. A brat like you can’t understand how miserable I feel living my life like this. I’m frustrated, disappointed and sad. But you can never understand.”

I laughed when Luffy yelled, “How can I understand? You keep messing with me without explaining anything!” (He’s just saying what we were all thinking, right?)

“You really want to know why I’ve become like this?”

“No, I’m not that interested.” (Lmao! We meet again, harsh Luffy.)

“Well, I’ll tell you before you die, since you insist.” 

Don Chinjao is one of those old dudes that is TELLING you that long and rambling story even though you have showed zero interest and have been glancing at your watch for the past half hour.

Suddenly, Luffy the Fight Therapist was unwilling and open for business.

According to Chinjao, Garp punched his head in thirty years ago. Literally. As in Don Chinjao once looked like Dan Akroyd from 90s sci-fi comedy, Coneheads. 

That was until his resplendent, pointy napper met Garp’s fist.

The whole flashback was hilariously weird. Turns out Chinjao’s drill-like bonce was the only means to access his remote family treasure vault under an ice sheet. Once Garp took away the key, Chinjao fell into a deep depression. Heartbroken, he retired from piracy, a lifeless shell, just idling away time.

That was kind of sad. I felt for Chinjao then. He’s like the model of the old, proud working man who suffers a physical injury, can no longer work and slips into anger and depression. Since Chinjao knows and values nothing but strength, wealth and power, he cannot and will not see another way forward. Unlike Luffy, Don Chinjao got his ass beat and never found the strength to crawl out of the gutter and retrain.

Instead, he decided to lay the blame for his misfortune squarely at Luffy’s feet.

Luffy, naturally, was outraged. “Wtf are you talking about? Grandpa and I are different people. Look, mate. I’m busy. I’m gonna win Ace’s fruit at any cost and become the Pirate King. I have no time to be your therapist.”

Then Chinjao made two Big Mistakes.

Wow, Chinjao has Really Specific Taste

Mistake #1?

Chinjao laughed off Luffy’s chances at becoming Pirate King. The reason was typical crotchety old man talk: “the media lionised you worst generation squirts and it emboldened you. But none of you are strong enough to sail across the sea *we* fought on. After Whitebeard’s death, I ain’t expecting much. The only guy who looks good is Blackbeard Teach.”

At the mere mention of Teach, Luffy’s eyes became two circles.

“If I had to pick one, it’s him. But anyway, if you’re only good enough to compete against me, just give up!”

Oh, Chinjao, I thought. Ohhhhhhhh, you just goofed. You goofed big time. You do not mention Teach in a positive light within Luffy’s earshot. You just do not. Teach was the asshole who captured Ace and handed him to the Marines. He shares Public Enemy Number One status with Akainu. Tell Luffy you believe Teach will become Pirate King and your fate is sealed.

Mistake #2?

Chinjao’s fighting style is kinda lame. People who spin during fights in shounen anime are always fodder (the one that sticks out is that spinning top guy in the HxH Heaven’s Arena arc.) This was not his mistake. It’s just a side thought.

The Teach comment pushed Luffy’s buttons. But what Chinjao said next was even worse.

“You’re not too bad but if a guy like Rayleigh chose a brat at this level as the flag bearer for this generation, he’s not as smart as he used to be. The Marines were smart when they squelched the most evil one of the lot: Ace. That man had demon’s blood in his veins. Do you think you can beat the Marine admirals, the Yonkou and surpass Roger? That’s impossible!”

Demon’s blood? Most evil one of the lot?

*cue Kill Bill red-mist music*

“Stop whining over one punch!” Luffy yelled, as he wound up a Thor Elephant Gun attack. “I can’t count how many times I got punched by Grandpa!”

When the attack connected and that spike popped back out of Chinjao’s head, I laughed like a drain. Luffy hit Chinjao so hard, he turned the clock back thirty years.

I’m sure Chinjao will be ecstatic. Take the L with good grace, mate. Your conehead is back! Go and wreak havoc on the high seas again. Recoup that treasure. The world is your oyster!

Up on the balcony, Bartolomeo still has not revealed his connection with Luffy. Cavendish is still throwing a strop. Bellamy is lurking in the shadows, clearly in two minds about his new assassination mission. And Burgess, thanks to Cavendish and his big mouth, knows that Luffy is Lucy.

Thanks, Cavendish.

(And Burgess really does walk around chortling and flexing all the time. He’s like an evil All Might.)

Thus the Legendary Heroes of Green Bit were Born

This cast reunion based on Usopp’s total bullshit was so much fun.

I loved Usopp and Robin’s expressions when the Tontatta took them to their airport. They were starry-eyed. And so they should’ve been. It was a miniature version of a proper, fully-equipped modern airport. I wouldn’t be surprised if the place had Duty Free, passport control and Starbucks concessions.

But it was not a holiday destination Usopp and Robin were flying out to. The entire airport had been overtaken by a military operation. Cub, the yellow bee squad leader, and Bian, the pink bee squad leader, reported for duty. Usopp picked up the bee planes and kept saying, “I wanna show this to Luffy.” (They are such good pals, it warms my heart.)

Unfortunately, Usopp and Robin were too big to travel by bee plane, so they had to take the local number 20 bus to Dressrosa. The buses were cute, vulpix-like foxes with huge, fluffy tails you can sink right into for a comfortable ride.

While they made their way through the tunnel, Master Roshi - the pervy little Tontatta chief - emerged from Robin’s cleavage. He bore dire warnings. “I should tell you because you will risk your lives for our cause.”

Usopp was thinking, “I ain’t gonna die for you but go on...”

“Doflamingo has been causing our tribe a lot of pain recently, but our connection with him goes way back before the last decade. Nine hundred years ago!”

Then the narrator interrupted and I was like, “So you’re just going to leave it there when I was about to get Doflamingo family history? I am not at all mad about this. No, sir. Not one bit.”

The action cut to Flower Field, where Franky and Sol descended a secret stairwell. Said stairwell led to the Resistance Army HQ! Some soldiers ran up to Sol and addressed him as “Captain”, so Sol is a Big Deal in the Resistance.

Franky was like, “Why are all these small people swarming me?”

Sol explained. The Tontatta people were called fairies in town, how they moved faster than the human eye could detect and how they were immensely strong. Franky put two and two together and realised one of them stole Zoro’s sword!

And guess who reached Flower Field before Franky? Before any of the other Strawhats!

That’s right. It’s our boy Zoro. (So proud he learned to follow directions.)

Zoro, hilariously, had made himself at home and was watching Luffy vs Chinjao on the big screen TV. He was absolutely fuming. Why hadn’t Luffy told him there was a fighting competition? THE BETRAYAL. Will he get over it? Probably.

He must’ve been distracted by the fight, as he completely forgot 

Then some intelligence scouts ran up. They had a report for Sol. “We already know what our enemies and Sugar are doing!” (Sugar? Who dat?) “And with the battle close at hand, some legendary heroes have appeared at Tontatta: Usoland and Robiland. They have brought with them Luffyland, Zoroland, Namiland, Sanland, Chopperland, Fraland and Boneland.”

Franky and Zoro exchanged a Look. They knew instantly Usopp was on the bullshit wagon again.

“Um, I think I’m Zoroland,” Zoro said. (Lmao, better get into character quick.)

“And I’m Fraland. Nice to meet you!” Franky added.

It was round about then that Zoro remembered that Nami, Chopper and Brook were in serious trouble back on Sunny. He now wants to skip the battle (he doesn’t yet know about) and rescue the other Strawhats.

I wonder how this will go? Wicka did say she would let Zoro go back to Sunny once he’d taken her back to Resistance HQ. But Leo and the others back on Green Bit were suspicious of Robin and Usopp escaping. Will they let Zoro go or will he have to fight the battle first? Hmmm... I’m fifty/fifty about this.

God damn it, Caesar

*curb your enthusiasm music kicks in*

Meanwhile, back on Green Bit, Law was under heavy bombardment. Fujitora took a step back in this episode and Doflamingo stole the limelight. The cool music from Enies Lobby (as I call it in my head. I have no idea what the real title is) played as Doflamingo pursued Law. 

As Doflamingo was about to land a finishing blow, Caesar shrieked, “OI, JOKER! Before you kill Law, I need you to take something back for me. Law took my heart and I don’t know what he’s gonna do with it!”

Doflamingo looked round like, “Wtf... are you talking about?” And while he was distracted, Law shambled his way out of trouble.

Doflamingo was furious. FFS, CAESAR. I bet he wanted to say that but couldn’t. Gotta keep your cash cow scientist happy..

Please send help. Our art teacher has locked us in class.

Unfortunately, Law didn’t have time for a breather. He had an urgent phone call to make.

While Nami, Chopper and Brook were brought up to speed on the Humans Turning Into Toys situation by Giolla, the ship’s DDM rang. Chopper hilariously ignored Giolla and answered the call (she was maaaaad).

It was Law. He said, “Is that Nami-san?”

To my disappointment, Chopper did not answer, “No, this is Patrick.”

“I don’t care what’s going on over there,” Law said. “Listen carefully. I need you to sail Sunny to Green Bit right now. I wanna leave Caesar with you guys. No time to explain. Bye!”

Okay, so I added in the “bye” part. Law abruptly hung up.

I like how he has faith that Nami, Chopper and Brook will be able to handle the situation, but their weapons have been rendered usless by Giolla’s Art Art Fruit power. I have no idea how they’re going to get out of this one (and I’m keen to see Oda’s creative solution).

The shitshow that is Law’s current existence continued once he hung up. Doflamingo is Doflamingo. He caught up with Law again near the end of episode 648. With that slasher smile, he shot Law with a string bullet and demanded to know who Law had called for help.

Doflamingo must be confident he has Law where he wants him because he spilled the beans on his diabolical plan to snare Luffy. “Give me back Caesar’s heart already. It’s so meaningless for you to keep hanging on here. Strawhat has already walked into the trap I set. He’s fighting in the gladiatorial contest at the Colosseum. Tough contenders from all over the world come to fight in it. Outlaws only. It’s a deadly competition. When someone loses, it’s a one way ticket to hell! He will never come out of the Colosseum alive! It’s the end of your alliance, Law. Just give up!”

I wonder if Law will use the heart as leverage. Maybe he’ll give up Caesar’s heart to escape, regroup and stop Doflamingo the old-fashioned way: with Tontatta military might. (Doflamingo better not kill him off...)

Don’t worry, Chinjao. Luffy will beat you until you feel better! :D

[thisisamadhouse]

The Tale of Robin & Regina

For @oqmovieweek, a little something inspired by the Tale of Aragorn & Arwen from the Lord of the Rings. AO3 link

I did it , Robin thinks as he glances out the high window towards the people milling down below, some working on the final touches for his coronation, others already gathering to see their new King. After all those years of hardships, battles, and sacrifices, he is finally about to assume Earnur’s crown and reunite the realms of Men under his banner.

It should be a day of rejoicing, the beginning of a new Age for Middle-earth, but Robin’s heart is heavy with the memories of those who can’t be here by his side, family and friends lost to him forever. Most of all, Robin misses  her more than any other, the one to whom he has given his heart and soul: Regina, the fairest of the High Elves still living on this side of the shore.

Lightly touching the pendant she gifted him the last time he saw her, he wonders if she has already left Middle-earth, if her mother, Cora, has finally convinced her to give up on him and seek refuge and everlasting peace in Valinor. Cora Half-Elven, the Lady of Rivendell, is powerful, respected and feared in equal measure among the Elves. A distant relative to Robin, she had chosen to embrace immortality as an Elf rather than the mortal condition of his ancestors. She reluctantly took in Robin and his mother after his father’s death, recognizing that the last heir of the thrones of the North and the South could prove valuable in the fight against the Dark Lord. She never foresaw that he would capture the heart of her greatest treasure.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

It was a strange day for Robin. At barely twenty years of age, and almost all of those spent in Rivendell, he had finally found out the truth about his origins: the last heir of Isildur, he was the only one still able to claim the thrones of Arnor and Gondor, but the path was full of obstacles, with the Dark Lord’s Shadow growing everyday.

He was walking in the woods, pondering his fate, recalling the stories of old, tales of bravery and glory, and imagining if his name would one day appear alongside those of revered heroes. Singing one of his favourite ballads, lost in his thoughts, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks at the vision standing in the clearing before him. He must have fallen asleep, he thought, or all those evenings spent sitting at the Minstrels’ foot had granted him new abilities he had been unaware of until then, for he had been intoning the Lay of Luthien Tinuviel, the most beautiful of all beings, mortal or immortal, that ever was, whose love for a Man had once inspired the world and moved even the Judge of the Dead, and surely there she was, conjured up from his words.

 Barefoot in the green grass, she wore a pale blue gown, with short sleeves just off her shoulders, revealing a smooth, sun-kissed skin, her long, dark brown, silky, wavy hair fell down to the small of her back, the light filtering through the high trees caught highlights of copper in them, and Robin was mesmerized, the desire to run his fingers through the soft strands overwhelming.

  Stepping closer, he called out “Tinuviel, Tinuviel”, as his forefather had once done, but when she turned, startled to find him here, she seemed confused and arched an eyebrow, asking him why he would use that name. It took him a long moment to answer, he had been struck speechless at the sight of her. All his years in Rivendell, amongst the grandest and most refined creatures in Middle-earth, could not have prepared him for how utterly enchanting this Lady was. She seemed young, but then most Elves did, one of the many blessings granted to them, her chestnut eyes were intense, appraising him, her face was as flawless and unblemished as the rest of her, only a scar marked her upper lip, but it took nothing away from her beauty, only added mystery and made him more curious. She was petite but held her head high, her bearing was regal, and looking closely he could link her features and manners to the Lady of Rivendell herself, and he wondered if they were related. 

  As he studied her, she tilted her head, still waiting for an answer, and he stammered a response, telling her of how he had been singing about Tinuviel and thought he had made her appear out of thin air.

  “I am not Luthien, though I have been told that I look like her. I am Regina, daughter of Cora, Lady of Rivendell, and I think I know who you are: Robin, son of Robert, the heir of Isildur, my mother’s ward and our distant cousin,” she told him, and he couldn’t hide his surprise at hearing this, for he had never known that Cora had a daughter.

  “I spent the past few years with my father’s kin in Lothlorien, I have just returned to Imladris, and I wanted to walk through the woods the way I used to do… before,” and though she looked away, he couldn’t possibly miss the sorrowful expression that swept over her face, even the sunlight seemed to dim, a dark cloud obscuring it. 

  He had heard about the fate of Cora’s husband, Henry, once a mighty Elf Lord, who was attacked by Orques and wounded beyond any hope of healing in Middle-earth.

  “I did not mean to cause you pain, Milady, please forgive my tactlessness.”

  She shook her head, dismissing the memories and the shadow, the clearing bathed in sunbeams once more. Robin could see that she was about to take her leave, and he couldn’t bear the thought, so he spoke up once more.

  “I must admit I have not yet trailed far from Rivendell, would you tell me about Lothlorien, whose splendour, I have been told, is without equal on this side of the Sea?”

  She hesitated, biting her bottom lip in thoughts, but then his sincere eagerness seemed to persuade her, and she sat down, beckoning him to join her.

  Robin had been smitten at the mere sight of her, but after hearing her talk about the beauty of her father’s land, evoking images, sounds and smells so precise that he felt like he had already been there, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by her side, listening with rapt attention to anything she deemed him worthy enough to share with.

  That first encounter sealed their destiny: though she only seemed amused by him in the beginning, after weeks of finding him always close by, never overbearing, only willing to listen, or distract her, or simply sit in silence, she started seeing him in a different light, and it confused her.

  “I never thought that Luthien’s fate was to be envied,” Regina told him once. “All those sufferings, trials and tribulations, and in the end they were given so little time together. Was it really worth it?”

  He clasped one of her hand gently, giving her time to withdraw it if she so wished, and squeezed when she didn’t. “I’m sure they thought it was, to have the chance to live their love in any way possible.”

  “But to give up everything she had, to renounce her gifts, leave her family behind, forsaking the chance to ever see them again?” She trailed off, looking away, and Robin felt a pang when realization hit him. He cursed himself for his selfishness and his thoughtlessness, he had been so spellbound that he had failed to understand what their attachment could mean for her. She had eternity to look forward to, thousands of years to see all the wonders of the world, and what did he have to offer?

  She noticed his grave mood, and offered him a small smile. “You are so young,” she said. “You know nothing of the world. Once you leave here, you will forget all about me.”

  “I doubt I would ever forget meeting you,” was his reply, but she only smiled indulgently, as if humoring a child.

  “Maybe you should.”

  It was only a matter of time before Cora got wind of their close friendship, and she was not pleased with him. She had him summoned to remind him of his mission, of the very reason she had harboured him in the first place: to prepare him for the War to come.

  “You are not worthy of her hand, Robin, son of Robert,” she told him coldly. “You should not trouble yourself with an infatuation, but should get ready for the fight waiting for you beyond the borders of this land,” and so with clenched fists and gritted teeth, Robin bowed to her and left the room.

  Knowing that he could not risk losing the Lady’s benevolence, he tried to avoid Regina after this, thinking that severing their bond would be less painful. It wasn’t though, and his heart was bleeding. She found him in the stables, less than a week later, on the eve of his departure, as he brushed his horse, readying it for the long journey ahead. She was silent at first, gently stroking the stallion’s head, feeding it an apple, as she softly spoke in Elvish.

 "My mother does not speak for me,” Regina whispered, covering his hand and stopping the movement of the brush. He turned his head towards her, holding her gaze as she stepped closer to him and cupped his jaw. She brushed her lips against his. He barely felt the pressure before she leaned back, closely watching his reaction, and he would be damned if that was the first time he saw her unsure of anything. He crashed his lips to hers, trying to convey all the passion and love he felt into his kiss. If she was surprised, she hid it well, instead returning his embrace fiercely until they had no choice but to part to breathe.

  “She is right though,” Robin murmured against her hair, after a long moment of peaceful silence. “I am no one while I stay hidden here, a mere title does not a King make. If ever I am to be the one who redeem my ancestor’s weakness, I can’t do it from the safety of Imladris.”

  She looked at him with eyes full of such intense sorrow that he was tempted to pretend he had never spoken a word. “The world out there is dangerous, you may not return. So many have already been taken, and countless more will follow before the end.” The tears falling along her cheeks were like daggers stabbing him in the heart.

  “I am not afraid, Milady. The Dark Lord himself could not stop me from finding my way back to you,” he swore.

  He left the next day, watching back to keep her in sight until she was too far away to distinguish, and then he launched his horse into the gallop, wanting to put as much distance between him and his love as possible before his resolve failed him.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Every single moment spent with her was so clear and sharp in his mind. He hung onto them during the hardest moments of their separation. More than twenty years passed before he saw her again, in Lothlorien this time. The Lord and Lady had let him through, offering him to rest for a while. 

  He had changed, had become a Man, a soldier, a leader, he was broader in stature, and more somber in spirit, with the weight of his fate sometimes stifling him, but when he set eyes on her, he felt all of twenty again, the smile splitting his face wider than it ever had before. He didn’t spare a thought for the curious eyes on him, or the decorum of the graceful Elves around them, he couldn’t have stopped himself from running to her and pick her up to hug her against him if he had tried. And she, who mere moments before had seemed forlorn and lost, was now clutching his brand new tunic tightly in her little fists, suppressing a sob as he murmured how much he had missed her, how many times the thought of her had given him strength before battle. 

  The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, Regina’s grandparents, are more indulgent than her mother. Her grandmother is wise, only wishing for Regina’s happiness, and she knew that their hearts were true. She blessed their union, though she reminded Robin that triumph was his only prospect, Cora would never accept that her daughter renounced her immortality for anyone less than the greatest King.

  Once more Regina and Robin had to say goodbye, but this time she would not let him go without a promise, a promise that she would bind her fate to his, that she believed in him and his victory. She had made her peace with what it meant, that she could never follow her kin to Valinor, that she would never see her father again, but her father would understand, he would want her to follow her heart. She gifted him her pendant, a jewel reflecting the light of the brightest star in the night sky who had once belonged to her grandmother.

  “Your mother will accuse me of stealing it away,” he managed to lightly tease, the emotion of the moment nearly choking him.

  “You can’t steal something that has been given to you,” she replied, and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the necklace.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Robin shakes himself from his memories, they have spent more time apart than together, his stays in Rivendell and Lorien few and far between as the Enemy grew stronger. She had her own responsibilities, her talents required to help protect the realms of the Elves. She is fierce his Regina, a skillful warrior who trained herself hard after her father was brought down by the Orques, and who inherited great gifts from both sides of her family. More than once, he thought that together they would be unstoppable, but never would he have wanted to put in harm’s way. He doubts that he will have the chance to find out now. A knock at the door and Will, his friend and long-time companion, enters the room to bring him outside, the time has come.

The joy of the crowd gathered is infectious, and he lets it fill his heart as the crown is placed on his head, and as he stands back up and walks among his people, accepting their love and gratitude, he feels Will stop and gasp by his side. Turning his head he sees people part, letting through a company amid which he recognizes many familiar faces: the Elves have come, and Robin feels his hope returning.

The Lord and Lady of Lorien grin widely at him, and even the Lady of Rivendell give him a faint smile. She stops his progress and seems to steel herself for what she is about to say.

“My judgement may have been hasty, but remember that she is my greatest treasure, I could not entrust her to just anyone.”

And Robin nods, understanding, because he is not sure he would have reacted any differently had he been in her stead. Cora moves away, and there she is, more radiant than ever, Regina, his Regina wearing the same gown than the first time he saw her, and almost a lifetime has passed since that fateful moment. He has to touch her, to make sure she is real, and his hand meets hers, bringing it to his chest and brushing his lips against it.

“You did not think I would miss this day,Thief?” She asks, her hand pressing against his heart, the tips of her fingers covering their pendant.

“Not for one second,” he says, and as she laughs, for he was never able to lie to her, he embraces her tightly, twirling her around as they kiss, everyone clapping and rejoicing.

This is the beginning of a New Age, and he wouldn’t want anyone else by his side to share it with.

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: The Clock King

Hi, guys! Gee, it’s been a while! For another week or two, doing these blogs are going to be incredibly difficult to accomplish. It’s the last two weeks of my school semester, meaning that it’s crunch time. Overall, school has kept me so busy that watching the episodes has been doable, but writing about them has been a huge problem. It sucks, because doing this blog and venting my thoughts is incredibly satisfying. To be honest, if I didn’t include screenshots and captions for most of them (like how I used to do things), these posts would likely still be coming out regularly. But they are a lot of extra work. It more than doubles the creation-time, believe it or not. It is work that is worth it, mind you, it adds a massive leap in awesome-factor. But I just don’t have time for it at the moment. I have watched up to Robin’s Reckoning as of the moment I type this. Because of how far ahead that is without actually writing anything about those episodes, it’s going to be hard to write meaningful blog posts about them, simply due to the episodes not being as fresh in my mind. I will try to rewatch them (or at the very least skim through them and read about them). I’m in a bit of a rut. I didn’t want to stop watching episodes entirely, because I’d like to get through the DC Animated Universe in a somewhat timely manner (I’d watch an episode per night if only I could). Luckily, after the 10th of May I should be back at it in full. I’m likely way more excited about it than you are, but hey, I’m mainly doing this for me (with a hearty “welcome” to anyone who happens to discover and enjoy these along the way). Just figured I’d keep any readers updated! This is the last post for the next couple of weeks. I’ll check in soon! In the mean time…

“Thirty-seven pages? That would take a copier exactly one minute and forty-nine seconds. One more delay like this and you're fired!”

Episode: 25 Robin: No Writer: David Wise Director: Kevin Altieri Animator: Sunrise Airdate: September 21, 1992 Grade: B

So lately I’ve been watching these episodes using my Blu Ray copy, and receiving the screenshots from my DVD copy. There hasn’t been too much for variance, aside from one looking obviously better, but The Clock King is an example of a pretty drastic difference in how two episodes can be presented. The Blu Ray copy is much brighter than the DVD copy, and while that does allow us to see what is going on a little bit better in dark scenes such as when Batman and Temple Fugate face off inside the clock, it also makes other scenes uncharacteristically bright, and honestly a little bit tacky. Seeing Batman walking around in broad daylight is odd enough, but when you further get rid of the illusion of how cool he looks by upping the exposure an additional amount, it makes him look really out of place. In the series bible, I can see why they wanted to keep Batman only appearing after dark. In the real world, it would be a lot easier to see Batman as a normal guy in a dorky Halloween costume when not cloaked in the shadows or when the ability to see him before he attacks is present. Of course, this isn’t saying that if Batman were to see trouble during daylight that he should just ignore it. It makes sense to break the rule sometimes, and it’s not even a problem to me in this episode, I just don’t think that the remastering of the Blu Ray release does it any favors in this case. The brightness also brings out the budget, revealing a whole lot of bland blues, grays, and browns. These colors have not been shy since the beginning, but there is no disguising them this time.

Fugate is a villain who’s main flaw is not only how obsessive-compulsive he gets about his schedule, keeping track of things, being on time, etc, but also the fact that he extends this to other people. He expects them to fall in line with his standards. For example, he keeps track of how long he and Mayor Hill have been taking the subway together, and expects Hill to know his name just from that. Also, his employee/intern who brings him a stack of papers too slowly for his standards, because apparently a photocopier should only take “one minute and forty-nine seconds” on that particular stack. And then, the biggest one of all, when he expects Mayor Hill to immediately know the significance of the time 3:15. This is the time that Hill suggested Fugate go on his coffee break, indirectly leading to Fugate losing the court case, ruining his life and creating the Clock King. But this was seven years prior! If someone came up to you and went, “1:47!” would you have any idea what they were talking about? Sure, a lot of things have happened at 1:47, maybe even some significant things, but as far as what they are, most people probably do not keep track. Another theme that I noticed was the idea of hindsight. Have you ever been in a situation where you gave someone a mere suggestion, they willingly took it, and then when something happened to ruin it, they blame you and insist that they knew it was a bad idea? Right, of course in hindsight it’s easy to say that, but truth is, neither of you saw the consequences coming! On top of that, any bad things that happened were completely unrelated to what you suggested, and luck just did not happen to line up. Maybe if Fugate hadn’t gone on that coffee break at a different time than usual, something else would have happened (not to get Final Destination-y on you). Point is, Fugate is completely missing the mark by staying mad at Mayor Hill for that long, and it’s like the old saying goes, “Shit happens.” Ironically, for a man so precise and knowledgable when to comes to all things time and clock related, looking back in time without heavy distortion does not seem to be something he is capable of doing in this case.

The main thing I liked about this episode (as I think a lot of people did) was its incredibly cruel nature. Just how mean to a guy can the writers be? “All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy”. That’s a Joker quote (taken from The Killing Joke), and it’s something I think about from time to time. I often wonder how much is between a rational brain and a completely irrational one. How much subconscious effort does being sane take? What’s keeping any of us from letting go and succumbing to the lunacy? Do our minds even work that way? Well, I sure as hell don’t know. And nobody worry, I’m not even the least bit afraid of snapping or anything, hahaha. It probably greatly varies from person to person as far as what would be enough to drive them crazy. In Temple Fugate’s case, it was a lot less than it would take for the majority of us. But this is hammered home by the drama of him being late to court. The bloody browns, dramatic shadows, and violent ticks of a clock do not necessarily represent how Fugate sees the situation, but they are there to represent how the situation affects him. If we were to be affected like him, this is how we would have to experience the situation. After all, everything is relative. This is juxtaposed brilliantly by the prior scene where birds are chirping and the sun is shining. Fugate seems like an alien trying to act casually as he struggles to relax for those few seconds. This is also more from our point of view than Fugate’s. These two scenes being back to back make us feel confused and baffled over our villain, all while allowing us to understand him completely. To me, understanding does not necessarily mean that something makes sense to us. Understanding is knowing the why. But, as an analogy, someone can tell me why they like the taste of zucchini. But that doesn’t make it any more clear to me those reasons can be enough for someone can like it. It just is what it is, and the bottom line is that all of our realities are different. For Temple Fugate, this is an unfortunate reality.

The producers of Batman set a goal of having a crazy set piece at the third act of every episode. They wanted it to aid in the excitement and to be memorable. I’m pretty sure not all episodes did this (it would become formulaic is abused), but this, along with Prophecy of Doom are the two that come to mind as demonstrators of this concept. Unfortunately, the animation lacks the spark that it needs. Luckily The Clock King wasn’t infected by Atom disease, and so the climax downright corny like Prophecy of Doom, and seeing the inside of the clock was neat, but… It wasn’t beyond just neat. I wish we got a bigger sense of scale, seeing further to the bottom of the clock, and maybe getting some better angles along with quicker action. I wanted a sense of height like what Mayor Hill was experiencing from the outside, as he was tied to the clock-hand. Plus just better fighting. It was such a tease of an action scene. I wanted to be at the edge of my seat, but feeling that way would require forcing it. And I just don’t have that kind of energy, man. Sunrise tried, they really did. The scene (and the whole episode in general) looks passable. But the blandness holds it back. It’s like eating the macaroni and cheese from my college. It’s mac and friggin’ cheese. So of course it’s going to be edible. Of course I’m going to like it. But where is the usual flavor? Where is the element that I usually am head-over-heels for? I can make vague comments about what it’s missing or what I would personally do to make it better. But probably the most firm statement I can really make is only, “Just do it better next time.”

I feel bad for people like this. We’ve all met them. They hold themselves (and others) to an impossibly high standard. Think about how much energy that must use.

The shock of Fugate hitting his coffee break at an odd time. She’s worked with him a long time. 

Batman’s idea of a nice, sunny day. As noted, it’s brighter on the Blu Ray. One of the scenes where the brightness adds to it. That tree is casting a shadow, but it almost looks like the clock is the one causing it...

The Blu Ray variant.

Great stuff! The tick of a clock gets louder and louder through the scene. 

“Then perhaps this will teach you to be on time for a change.” This line holds so much weight, as to someone like Fugate, it cements the idea that one moment of leniency was one too many.

This drawing could have been a little more grotesque, but not bad!

“I take it taxi-drivers are no longer required to obey traffic signs.”

I find it a little whacky that Bruce Wayne noticed trouble from way down on the streets.

Bruce going through that car was animated incredibly strangely. It looked like he entered the car, but then it looked like he emerged from behind it. But anyway, maybe this was a Superman homage? In one of the Superman movies, he walked through a car and emerged completely changed. Batman doesn’t have that amount of speed, so maybe this is kind of like his version of it. In the shadows, where he belongs. 

Wow, ugly screenshot. But see how odd it is to see Batman in the daylight?

Again, here is the Blu Ray version. And on a much better frame. 

Why he didn’t hurl the explosive directly at Batman is beyond me. He just kinda threw it into the distance. Maybe as a warning (much like Walter White vs Tuco for any Breaking Bad fans). 

See what I mean by blandness so far? A little more style would have gone a long way.

What an awful way to die this would be. Split in half by two hands of a giant clock. Imagine the impact this would have on Gotham if it had have worked. 

A few bits from inside the clock, including Fugate’s apparent death. But Batman doesn’t seem to think he’s gone... Some of these drawings of gears frankly suck. The line-work just isn’t there. This episode felt like a Twilight Zone episode, I’ve gotta say. I think it had to do with the personality of the villain along with some of the events that happened. Batman and Twilight Zone... Now there’s a crossover with possible potential...

Char’s grade: B Next time: Appointment in Crime Alley

Full episode list here!

[lgbt-teenager-support]

Warning: Long post!!

@mercialachesis said:

Hey I was wondering if you could recommend some books or films with an agender character either main or side? Thank you !!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello! I'm sorry I couldn't answer your ask straight up, this post includes a lot of links.

I couldn't find very many books that describe the character as specifically agender, but there are a lot that use the words "gender fluid" "gender flux" "gender queer" and the like if you're ok with that! Summaries taken from Goodreads

Mask of Shadows - by Linsey Miller

"Sallot Leon is a thief, and a good one at that. But gender fluid Sal wants nothing more than to escape the drudgery of life as a highway robber and get closer to the upper-class and the nobles who destroyed their home. When Sal Leon steals a poster announcing open auditions for the Left Hand, a powerful collection of the Queen's personal assassins named for the rings she wears -- Ruby, Emerald, Amethyst, and Opal -- their world changes. They know it's a chance for a new life. Except the audition is a fight to the death filled with clever circus acrobats, lethal apothecaries, and vicious ex-soldiers. A childhood as a common criminal hardly prepared Sal for the trials. But Sal must survive to put their real reason for auditioning into play: revenge."

Symptoms of Being Human - by Jeff Garvin

"The first thing you’re going to want to know about me is: Am I a boy, or am I a girl? Riley Cavanaugh is many things: Punk rock. Snarky. Rebellious. And gender fluid. Some days Riley identifies as a boy, and others as a girl. The thing is…Riley isn’t exactly out yet. And between starting a new school and having a congressman father running for reelection in uber-conservative Orange County, the pressure—media and otherwise—is building up in Riley’s so-called “normal” life. On the advice of a therapist, Riley starts an anonymous blog to vent those pent-up feelings and tell the truth of what it’s REALLY like to be a gender fluid teenager. But just as Riley’s starting to settle in at school—even developing feelings for a mysterious outcast—the blog goes viral, and an unnamed commenter discovers Riley’s real identity, threatening exposure. Riley must make a choice: walk away from what the blog has created—a lifeline, new friends, a cause to believe in—or stand up, come out, and risk everything."

What We Left Behind - by Robin Talley

"Toni and Gretchen are the couple everyone envied in high school. They've been together forever. They never fight. They’re deeply, hopelessly in love. When they separate for their first year at college—Toni to Harvard and Gretchen to NYU—they’re sure they’ll be fine. Where other long-distance relationships have fallen apart, theirs is bound to stay rock-solid. The reality of being apart, though, is very different than they expected. Toni, who identifies as genderqueer, meets a group of transgender upperclassmen and immediately finds a sense of belonging that has always been missing, but Gretchen struggles to remember who she is outside their relationship. While Toni worries that Gretchen won’t understand Toni’s new world, Gretchen begins to wonder where she fits in Toni's life. As distance and Toni’s shifting gender identity begins to wear on their relationship, the couple must decide—have they grown apart for good, or is love enough to keep them together?"

The Tiger's Watch - by Julia Ember

"Sixteen-year-old Tashi has spent their life training as a inhabitor, a soldier who spies and kills using a bonded animal. When the capital falls after a brutal siege, Tashi flees to a remote monastery to hide. But the invading army turns the monastery into a hospital, and Tashi catches the eye of Xian, the regiment’s fearless young commander. Tashi spies on Xian’s every move. In front of his men, Xian seems dangerous, even sadistic, but Tashi discovers a more vulnerable side of the enemy commander—a side that draws them to Xian. When their spying unveils that everything they’ve been taught is a lie, Tashi faces an impossible choice: save their country or the boy they’re growing to love. Though Tashi grapples with their decision, their volatile bonded tiger doesn't question her allegiances. Katala slaughters Xian’s soldiers, leading the enemy to hunt her. But an inhabitor’s bond to their animal is for life—if Katala dies, so will Tashi."

Love Spell - by Mia Kerick

"Strutting his stuff on the catwalk in black patent leather pumps and a snug orange tuxedo as this year’s Miss (ter) Harvest Moon feels so very right to Chance César, and yet he knows it should feel so very wrong. As far back as he can remember, Chance has been “caught between genders.” (It’s quite a touchy subject; so don’t ask him about it.) However, he does not question his sexual orientation. Chance has no doubt about his gayness—he is very much out of the closet at his rural New Hampshire high school, where the other students avoid the kid they refer to as “girl-boy.” But at the local Harvest Moon Festival, when Chance, the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, meets Jasper Donahue, the Pumpkin Carving King, sparks fly. So Chance sets out, with the help of his BFF, Emily, to make “Jazz” Donahue his man. An article in an online women’s magazine, Ten Scientifically Proven Ways to Make a Man Fall in Love with You (with a bonus love spell thrown in for good measure), becomes the basis of their strategy to capture Jazz’s heart. Quirky, comical, definitely flamboyant, and with an inner core of poignancy, Love Spell celebrates the diversity of a gender-fluid teen."

Chameleon Moon - by RoAnna Sylver

"The city of Parole is burning. Like Venice slips into the sea, Parole crumbles into fire. The entire population inside has been quarantined, cut off from the rest of the world, and left to die - directly over the open flame. Eye in the Sky, a deadly and merciless police force ensures no one escapes. Ever. All that’s keeping Parole alive is faith in the midst of horrors and death, trust in the face of desperation… and their fantastic, terrifying, and beautiful superhuman abilities. Regan, stealth and reconnaissance expert with a lizard's scales and snake's eyes, is haunted by ten years of anxiety, trauma and terror, and he’s finally reached his limit. His ability to disappear into thin air isn’t enough: he needs an escape, and he’ll do anything for a chance. Unluckily for him, Hans, a ghostly boy with a chilling smile, knows just the thing to get one. It starts with a little murder. But instead of ending a man’s life, Regan starts a new one of his own. He turns away from that twisted path, and runs into Evelyn, fearless force on stage and sonic-superheroic revolutionary on the streets. Now Regan has a choice - and a chance to not only escape from Parole, but unravel the mystery deep in its burning heart. And most of all, discover the truth about their own entwining pasts. They join forces with Evelyn’s family: the virtuosic but volatile Danae, who breathes life into machines, and her wife Rose, whose compassionate nature and power over healing vines and defensive thorns will both be vital to survive this nightmare. Then there’s Zilch, a cool and level-headed person made of other dead people, and Finn, one of Parole’s few remaining taxi drivers, who causes explosions whenever he feels anything but happy. Separately they’d never survive, much less uncover the secret of Parole’s eternally-burning fire. Together, they have a chance. Unfortunately, Hans isn’t above playing dirty, lying, cheating, manipulating… and holding Regan’s memories hostage until he gets his way. Parole’s a rough place to live. But they’re not dead yet. If they can survive the imminent cataclysmic disaster, they might just stay that way…"

Black Sunrise - by Christina Engela

"When a single Ruminarii Hammerhead arrived to invade the small backwater Terran colony of Deanna, the people of Atro City went to meet them at the space port with open arms. (Perhaps ‘exposed’ is a better word?) Life as a private investigator, slash bounty hunter isn’t all Gary Beck wanted it to be. There weren’t any big mansions on a palm beach owned by an affluent writer generous enough to let him live rent-free and use his spare Ferrari. But then, you have to ask yourself, what could you expect living on a planet like Deanna? As a third rate colony in the Terran Empire, Deanna had more than its fair share of dull moments. It orbited a star called Ramalama. If you think that’s funny, Deanna’s two moons were called Ding and Dong, respectively. (This is a local joke.) Cindy Mei Winter hoped to put her violent and somehow depressing past behind her, but now it seemed her new beginning (and her holiday) were going to have to wait."

If Found Return To Astropop - by Lucas Hargis

"Unaware of one another’s gender or appearance, a poor, aspiring architect and a spoiled, free-spirited astronomy fanatic find themselves mutually smitten by reading each other’s journals. Genderfluid, sixteen-year-old Robin “Astropop” Chicory lost a journal three months ago. When a stranger (known only as Pippopotamus) secretly returns it, Astro discovers that Pip read their innermost thoughts and meticulously traced Astro’s past movements. Without meeting, Pip believes s/he is smitten with Astropop. Astro knows this because Pip wrote a heartfelt journal in response. Astro reads both journals side-by-side, amazed at how simple words on paper can exert a mutual gravity between complete strangers. As their tandem confessions and intimate stories tangle with the drama in Astro’s everyday life, Astro ends up hopelessly smitten with Pip, too. But because of distance, timing, and interference from the universe, it’s impossible for them to ever meet. When Astro flips to Pip’s last precious page, a supernova of hope explodes—a precise time and place where shy Pip will be waiting. Astro can finally meet the intriguing Pip, but fears their deep, inexplicable connection will be broken. And there’s the world-shattering chance the revelations of who they each truly are will eclipse their imagined versions of one another."

And here's the entire Goodreads list in case any books I didn't include speak to you! Hope this helped! For the life of me I couldn't find any agender movie characters :( If anyone knows of other books in this vein feel free to add!

-Mod Gaby

[airoasis]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot-2/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Hey Fargo ah ok whats up you will have Chris watching nice for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the chance is exceptional if you happen to quit on him this year father well I put the entire annual eating allowance on him to win if he does not win what that means fiber well we will not have any heating however nevertheless it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer season heckler had been laughing come on teach Chris he’s a champ speak about it’s a designated J and you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me more colossal is a Jaguar the vehicle be aware of what to be cutting and that is all teeth enormous white enamel the sheriff is known as as a kill get do good it can be only a subject of time does not get any Amoy she no intellect she be riskless Oh kids yay so nevertheless it’s handiest a subject of time be really low priced the sheriff is named Duggal supply the album a relaxation no come on Ted it’s tremendous I feel men and women will soon give up taking note of pop music and take heed to this style of thing alternatively you understand from what I hear in the charts today but i am no longer definite if that’s no longer going down already what that is so good k failed to it we’ve got acquired all sorts of things as if with the aid of magic i can create a large crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i’m going to convey you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night time hiya craggy Island broken apartment father technically speaking father Fargo father are you able to come over here fast and without doubt Fargo what appears to be the early life I used to move out to will is some thing of a celebrity go boil that is doing you o.K. You look horrible does not you do just right all of it I didn’t get so much sleep father I saved thinking I heard this horrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what is that there may be anything terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any extra then there’s anything horrible roaming the circular the location the place ordinarily there could be extra father they feel it might be a style of significant fox dougas sorry howdy it couldn’t be Jack might you would see her any one could mistake him for a giant madcap recollect to wildering jump years father Jack may be very much littered with the changing of the seasons for a short while a awesome serenity enters his lifestyles and he is as one with nature he’s excellent when he is within the mood Sonia’s final little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I might flip off that report however it is off what do you mean Chris is not within the competition did the chump you have got to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a photo of him this morning nerves I mean Fargo it’s she he invariably had an extraordinarily creative temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I do not know oh my god I imply whilst you examine it with what he gave the look of final yr two thoroughly distinct sheep he is off his food he’s now not dozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull yourself together Chris needs you know greater than he’s ever needed you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you should have noticeable him he’s just a shadow of a sheep not surprised head if I used to be a sheep i might be gazing my again proper now right given that of the Beast that is greatest for cats and it is got a retractable legs so they may be able to soar opportu higher if you understand watch head it lights up at night and the four ears chew them up for listening and the other two are type of again up here the crows are as tremendous as cooked and for some cause is so some Indus fear of stamps mrs.Doyle used to be telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they are made out of metal it will probably connect itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it is obtained four hours it’s a legend it doesn’t exist right head the way as a Phantom of the Opera does not exist that used to be the Opera does not exist so i’m no longer going to get into this what does exist and what would not exist debate once more ok but i will have got to insist you add these last two examples to the chart ok Duggal no i’m extra concerned about that i+ on Chris fitting king of the sheep i don’t feel it might win then no burping sheep has ever gained us what about gigantic Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it’s only a heating price range and appear what the weather information says just final year’s weather news what this is this 12 months I have got to go and spot if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I could go down with you see in the event that they’ve got one other sound effects album volume 5 fair adequate I bet one of the v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a green leaf a chair to load a hand around and performed a barrel good day Fargo and then he does not have any eyebrows in any respect besides on Saturday you learn from manners i will telephone away the cake how do you adore that huh hi there John hey silence really hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s conscious and her mother Wow it’s a room someone within the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there correct I proposal you heard your mom’s no I did not go to me mother in the end i am in the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I comprehend it’s for the reason that of this beast of craggy Island factor I proposal that Mary could be safer in the cupboard i am Errol appear welcome to you for father oh yeah p.C. Of 20 incorporates i’m going to get them love you stay in the cabinet John can i have a word ma’am whats up Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m fine anyway i am sorry father a bets a bet it can be simply but if the lady doesn’t have the operation she will not be beneath fetch water for her village i’m sorry father if the pite did not stay up for the chances of prolong to twenty to 1 as a result of Chris’s worried troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they don’t have the sound result out and we might as good just go hi bye-bye then i’m hoping you’re satisfied I shut up oh seem there’s tremendous Reed howdy enormous what are you fascinated by there Ted you must see the massive critical seem for your face I are not able to see Crispin in this competitors guru Ted it’s pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the quandary we simply have to accept the fact and that is that how about we convey Kris over here for a even as possibly to alter your doing excellent oh ho extraordinary amazing or something we would do failed to I say it as a minimum India they’re just a 2nd ago no no you failed to you said the special opposite there was obviously nothing we might do genuinely Ted you may have performed this to me before I took the liberty of tape in the conversation just have just a little you are simplest wasting your time there’s nothing we will do the trouble I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i’m nonetheless now not sure about this now father do not worry more difficult however the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if not with making me to a jumper and a few chops i am terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i am terribly terribly sorry i’m going to be off then okay so and critically it was one location he may also be certain peace and quiet I suppose will likely be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father yes we’re also try and get Chris into form for the competition do you believe what are you friends like a cup of tea father it isn’t she fellow i do not suppose they drink staff has warmness oil not except you might have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea within the kitchen rightful them give them given some nothing k so Godhead it is close to midday we need to stand up this early inquire from me accomplished Duggal we’ve bought to get Chris from watching like this to looking like this it is your father digit is he i am sorry we tried the whole lot I went I consider that I is I better take him dwelling aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my nice so be aware of what to claim father can i buy you a drink to have a good time o.K. Mcdougal you mind Krister we get back and do not let him wander away keep an eye on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the rest taking Shiva good day did you see and also you activate gratefully over feeling your neck truely determined 33 that’s how shut once I need to pay extra in these photos ever that you would be able to stack this the high-quality baccarat seem at me devour yeah excellent yes that is like Duggal I detect that the entrance door is large open oh it’s yes Ted as we are presently sheepish oh ah dude I told you to maintain the entrance door closed no just keep up their head how do we know which way to go she’s like several wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we ought to go north which approach is out I do not know that you can come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona desert was in a position to pinpoint the distinct location of Buffalo with the aid of gauging the position of the moon and hanging their ears to the ground genuinely Ted maybe the sound is coming from that stereo it can be Chris y’alright he’s pleasant he needs to have an understanding of it was simply some thing stereo placing from the tree i am residence Dougal I consider i am starting to figure out what’s been happening well it’s been an convenient selection there is one alpha no twin-off and as a substitute than waste got here with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized thing the winner who today has come forced on this competitors to peer who the winner is within the king of the sheep competitors that we’ve got all come to at present wondering who Andy might be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this 12 months’s king of the Sheep competition is up hiya what’s the which means of this this competitors is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a can provide and ratings try to sabotage this high profile sheep competition little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you better have enjoyable the fact that opus trouble all I do I do you’re the ones who constantly shatters of the so called beast of tiny island perpetually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was you who used a replica of BBC sound results vol 5 to add method to those pants will declare an impression of she might no longer aid however be satisfied with the aid of the late-night time howlings of terrible monster Taipei and from manner approach approach work up lovely image father Freddy has painted how dare you bring disgrace on this fella place or knock shape and let me too tough on them so you do not know your identify introduced do not be too hard on the malum they had been conveniently pawns actual villain on this piece has yet to be printed Fargo boils what yeah I obtained cool now it is my deal with it used to be you who used to be disillusioned on the terrible odds Chris was receiving you who plan to manipulate these odds via sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a astonishing recovery on the day of the competitors you who paid large and hood to talk about the beast in entrance of Chris ah Oh James hello there I didn’t depend on the self-love of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to buy a fur coat and a crown and it was once you who bought the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me figuring out that could be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I could nurse him again to wellbeing you wish it is now not actual it is typical keep the Panisse father no he is lost the believe of his sheep that is punishment ample the farmer who offers exceptionally to low cost excuse me there is a bit of extension right here and i want some recent air one factor Ted if Chris has been disqualified does not imply you have got lost the heating allowance money on the mattress I know it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly on no account go to the bathroom first

[batterymonster2021]

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/chirpy-burpy-cheap-sheep-father-ted-series-3-episode-2-dead-parrot-2/

"Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep" | Father Ted | Series 3 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Hey Fargo ah ok whats up you will have Chris watching nice for the competitors quality lad ha ha freely hey there Fargo benefit how’s the chance is exceptional if you happen to quit on him this year father well I put the entire annual eating allowance on him to win if he does not win what that means fiber well we will not have any heating however nevertheless it’s riskier stays as warm as a summer season heckler had been laughing come on teach Chris he’s a champ speak about it’s a designated J and you heard about this creature going around terrorizing sheep on the island no inform me more colossal is a Jaguar the vehicle be aware of what to be cutting and that is all teeth enormous white enamel the sheriff is known as as a kill get do good it can be only a subject of time does not get any Amoy she no intellect she be riskless Oh kids yay so nevertheless it’s handiest a subject of time be really low priced the sheriff is named Duggal supply the album a relaxation no come on Ted it’s tremendous I feel men and women will soon give up taking note of pop music and take heed to this style of thing alternatively you understand from what I hear in the charts today but i am no longer definite if that’s no longer going down already what that is so good k failed to it we’ve got acquired all sorts of things as if with the aid of magic i can create a large crowd of invisible dots or take you on a commute into darkest Africa i’m going to convey you right into a spooky fortress on a stormy night time hiya craggy Island broken apartment father technically speaking father Fargo father are you able to come over here fast and without doubt Fargo what appears to be the early life I used to move out to will is some thing of a celebrity go boil that is doing you o.K. You look horrible does not you do just right all of it I didn’t get so much sleep father I saved thinking I heard this horrible howling noise good that’ll be the Beast what is that there may be anything terrible on the moors farther north we haven’t any extra then there’s anything horrible roaming the circular the location the place ordinarily there could be extra father they feel it might be a style of significant fox dougas sorry howdy it couldn’t be Jack might you would see her any one could mistake him for a giant madcap recollect to wildering jump years father Jack may be very much littered with the changing of the seasons for a short while a awesome serenity enters his lifestyles and he is as one with nature he’s excellent when he is within the mood Sonia’s final little bit longer I better go on make some tea Dugan I might flip off that report however it is off what do you mean Chris is not within the competition did the chump you have got to enter him all this talk of the beast has obtained to UM his now that’s right I took a photo of him this morning nerves I mean Fargo it’s she he invariably had an extraordinarily creative temperament father yeah Robin will not be a live performance penis is a she you I do not know oh my god I imply whilst you examine it with what he gave the look of final yr two thoroughly distinct sheep he is off his food he’s now not dozing and he started took ball what am I going to do Fargo pull yourself together Chris needs you know greater than he’s ever needed you come on I want to see him cargo that is an order take me to see Chris the sad sheep god dude you should have noticeable him he’s just a shadow of a sheep not surprised head if I used to be a sheep i might be gazing my again proper now right given that of the Beast that is greatest for cats and it is got a retractable legs so they may be able to soar opportu higher if you understand watch head it lights up at night and the four ears chew them up for listening and the other two are type of again up here the crows are as tremendous as cooked and for some cause is so some Indus fear of stamps mrs.Doyle used to be telling me that has bought magnets on tails so they are made out of metal it will probably connect itself to you and as a substitute of the notes it is obtained four hours it’s a legend it doesn’t exist right head the way as a Phantom of the Opera does not exist that used to be the Opera does not exist so i’m no longer going to get into this what does exist and what would not exist debate once more ok but i will have got to insist you add these last two examples to the chart ok Duggal no i’m extra concerned about that i+ on Chris fitting king of the sheep i don’t feel it might win then no burping sheep has ever gained us what about gigantic Brendan in 1983 yeah anyway it’s only a heating price range and appear what the weather information says just final year’s weather news what this is this 12 months I have got to go and spot if John and Mary would let me take my a reimbursement the next day to come I could go down with you see in the event that they’ve got one other sound effects album volume 5 fair adequate I bet one of the v-rod are on the within of his head I win a yawn it has a green leaf a chair to load a hand around and performed a barrel good day Fargo and then he does not have any eyebrows in any respect besides on Saturday you learn from manners i will telephone away the cake how do you adore that huh hi there John hey silence really hi there Tiger McGuire very oh oh she’s conscious and her mother Wow it’s a room someone within the cupboard no father Mary Todd Mary I forgot you have been there correct I proposal you heard your mom’s no I did not go to me mother in the end i am in the cabinet Mary what are you doing in there oh I comprehend it’s for the reason that of this beast of craggy Island factor I proposal that Mary could be safer in the cupboard i am Errol appear welcome to you for father oh yeah p.C. Of 20 incorporates i’m going to get them love you stay in the cabinet John can i have a word ma’am whats up Mary no three days mechanics oh yeah i’m fine anyway i am sorry father a bets a bet it can be simply but if the lady doesn’t have the operation she will not be beneath fetch water for her village i’m sorry father if the pite did not stay up for the chances of prolong to twenty to 1 as a result of Chris’s worried troubles anyway your cigarette thanks Ted they don’t have the sound result out and we might as good just go hi bye-bye then i’m hoping you’re satisfied I shut up oh seem there’s tremendous Reed howdy enormous what are you fascinated by there Ted you must see the massive critical seem for your face I are not able to see Crispin in this competitors guru Ted it’s pointless even interested by it you are most effective wasting your time there’s nothing we are able to do about the quandary we simply have to accept the fact and that is that how about we convey Kris over here for a even as possibly to alter your doing excellent oh ho extraordinary amazing or something we would do failed to I say it as a minimum India they’re just a 2nd ago no no you failed to you said the special opposite there was obviously nothing we might do genuinely Ted you may have performed this to me before I took the liberty of tape in the conversation just have just a little you are simplest wasting your time there’s nothing we will do the trouble I stand corrected ah serious now anyway i’m nonetheless now not sure about this now father do not worry more difficult however the subsequent time you see him he’ll be a new sheet if not with making me to a jumper and a few chops i am terribly sorry sir that used to be just a PI i am terribly terribly sorry i’m going to be off then okay so and critically it was one location he may also be certain peace and quiet I suppose will likely be an insult to you if I conclude that sentence you’re a parity father yes we’re also try and get Chris into form for the competition do you believe what are you friends like a cup of tea father it isn’t she fellow i do not suppose they drink staff has warmness oil not except you might have some distinctive sheet tea sure I do have some sheet tea within the kitchen rightful them give them given some nothing k so Godhead it is close to midday we need to stand up this early inquire from me accomplished Duggal we’ve bought to get Chris from watching like this to looking like this it is your father digit is he i am sorry we tried the whole lot I went I consider that I is I better take him dwelling aha ah gotcha did you what did you just did my nice so be aware of what to claim father can i buy you a drink to have a good time o.K. Mcdougal you mind Krister we get back and do not let him wander away keep an eye on them and keep that front door closed ok Ted is the rest taking Shiva good day did you see and also you activate gratefully over feeling your neck truely determined 33 that’s how shut once I need to pay extra in these photos ever that you would be able to stack this the high-quality baccarat seem at me devour yeah excellent yes that is like Duggal I detect that the entrance door is large open oh it’s yes Ted as we are presently sheepish oh ah dude I told you to maintain the entrance door closed no just keep up their head how do we know which way to go she’s like several wool bearing animals instinctively journey north but colder mr.Self so we ought to go north which approach is out I do not know that you can come from throughout us the Sioux Indians and the Arizona desert was in a position to pinpoint the distinct location of Buffalo with the aid of gauging the position of the moon and hanging their ears to the ground genuinely Ted maybe the sound is coming from that stereo it can be Chris y’alright he’s pleasant he needs to have an understanding of it was simply some thing stereo placing from the tree i am residence Dougal I consider i am starting to figure out what’s been happening well it’s been an convenient selection there is one alpha no twin-off and as a substitute than waste got here with a speech and get on with the job of a recognized thing the winner who today has come forced on this competitors to peer who the winner is within the king of the sheep competitors that we’ve got all come to at present wondering who Andy might be to win the prize of king of the Sheep the winner of this 12 months’s king of the Sheep competition is up hiya what’s the which means of this this competitors is a sham and a fraud and as sham how dare you there may be been a can provide and ratings try to sabotage this high profile sheep competition little puzzle are in this very room chines Reed and hood Hastings you better have enjoyable the fact that opus trouble all I do I do you’re the ones who constantly shatters of the so called beast of tiny island perpetually within hearing distance of Krista sheep paragon of the champion and it was you who used a replica of BBC sound results vol 5 to add method to those pants will declare an impression of she might no longer aid however be satisfied with the aid of the late-night time howlings of terrible monster Taipei and from manner approach approach work up lovely image father Freddy has painted how dare you bring disgrace on this fella place or knock shape and let me too tough on them so you do not know your identify introduced do not be too hard on the malum they had been conveniently pawns actual villain on this piece has yet to be printed Fargo boils what yeah I obtained cool now it is my deal with it used to be you who used to be disillusioned on the terrible odds Chris was receiving you who plan to manipulate these odds via sabotaging your own sheep after which staging a astonishing recovery on the day of the competitors you who paid large and hood to talk about the beast in entrance of Chris ah Oh James hello there I didn’t depend on the self-love of your accomplices who use their newfound wealth to buy a fur coat and a crown and it was once you who bought the BBC sound effects document sixty four for the dramatic alterations you who gave the sheet to me figuring out that could be a priest with an intuitive figuring out of sheep I could nurse him again to wellbeing you wish it is now not actual it is typical keep the Panisse father no he is lost the believe of his sheep that is punishment ample the farmer who offers exceptionally to low cost excuse me there is a bit of extension right here and i want some recent air one factor Ted if Chris has been disqualified does not imply you have got lost the heating allowance money on the mattress I know it’s a thorough step Duggal but it is very very bloodless here three months then Ted certainly on no account go to the bathroom first

[sebeth]

Titans Annual #1

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Spoilers Ahead…

Titans: Legacy by Dan Abnett & Minkyu Jung

Garth finds himself in a sprawling complex.  Garth’s shouting causes two Flashes to respond to him.  Aquaman is also on scene.  Garth drops into a half-bow and welcome Arthur with a “My lord”.

“Should I call you my ‘my lord’?”

“Stop it, Wal.”

Arthur’s all business about the situation.  He criticizes Garth for shouting: “Not too smart to draw attention to our…”

Nightwing interrupts with “I don’t know, sir.  It would have taken me ages to find you otherwise.”

Nightwing and Aquaman are stepping over each other to take control of the situation.  Garth jumps in to defend Nightwing.

“Flash, you and your protégé should –“

“You’re the leader suddenly?”

“I’m a founding member of the Justice League and King of Atlantis.  What’s your question exactly?”

“Nightwing is leader of the Titans – “

“No doubt.  Where is he King of, again?”

Nightwing interrupts the contest of wills to send the Flashes on recon.

Barry: “Sorry about Arthur’s ‘protégé’ remark, Wally.  I felt you wince.”

Garth’s new 52 relationship with Arthur seems to be strictly a subject to monarch type.  No foster parent influence here.  I’m halfway through the New 52 Aquaman series – the only reference to Garth has been a “purple-eyed boy” that Orm mentions.  I’m enjoying Garth’s ‘respectful but not afraid to stand up’ approach to Arthur.  

I can understand Arthur’s reluctance to defer leadership to Nightwing.  Has Aquaman even met Nightwing in the New 52?  Add in the fact that the Titans were “erased” from everyone’s memories by Mr. Twister and Arthur has no reference for this kid.

The group quickly come across Donna Troy and Wonder Woman.  Diana’s threatening Donna with her sword.

Diana is not having any of this: “I do not trust you.  I don’t know what you are.”

Honestly, Diana, I think we’ve all given up trying to explain Donna Troy after the Crisis on Infinite Earths FUBAR’d her.

Barry calls Diana out on her aggressive behavior.  Diana responds with “Can we trust each other?  If someone can abduct us, what else can they do?  Who else can they look like?  Are any of you really who you say you are?”

Enter Batman: “First intelligent thing anybody’s said.”

Diana’s more aggressive than I would expect but the others are spot on.  The Flashes are friendly, Arthur and Garth’s turbulent relationship continues, Nightwing plays peacekeeper, and Batman lurks from the shadows.

The Key observes all from the Monitors: “And you need the Key, don’t you, my strange friend?  You need me to let you out…I’ve selected these eight to work on…Eight of them, mentors and their pupils…I’ll need to stress them until they break…but they will break…And when they do, secrets will tumble out…And the energy released by that will open the door and set you free.”

Great plan but the tradition mentor/pupil role isn’t present in these relationships except for Batman and Nightwing.  Mr. Twister’s shenanigans make the Titans’ early adventures murky but I can’t see where Arthur and Garth would have a mentor/pupil style relationship.  More of a “I’m the King, do as I command” relationship. Donna’s a hot mess.  Diana’s early years are up in the air until Rucka’s Rebirth storyline is resolved.  Wally was evicted from the timeline until last year.  Dick’s the only one who has spent significant time with his mentor.

Batman orders the Flashes on a rapid perimeter search: “Flash? Rapid perimeter search.  Take your boy.  Halve the task”.

“Looks like the pecking order just changed.”

“Batman’s in the room, Wally.  The pecking order always changes.”

“Stop for a second. So far today you’ve been called my protégé and my boy.  I’m sorry the Justice League aren’t really used to you Titans being grown-up.”

“Nah, forget it.”

“No, it’s important. I don’t see it that way.  I’m a Flash.  You’re a Flash.  You’ve got nothing to prove in my eyes.  You’re not my protégé.”

“But I am your legacy.”

Barry is the best. The Flashes are among the sweetest of the DC heroes.  Maybe it’s a Speed Force thing?

The League isn’t that much more experienced in the New 52.  DC maintained that the New 52 debuted in Year 5 of the heroes’ lives. Dick was Nightwing by this point. Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne had been through the Robin role and settled into their traditional roles. Honestly, the League members debuted months before the Titans…not much room to claim superior experience.

Diana continues to be a bitch –

“Am I being punished for something?”

“Nothing.  We just can’t trust each other.  None of us can.”

“It’s more than that.”

“You’re reaching.”

“We haven’t been close in years.  I shouldn’t have let that happen, after all you and the Amazons did for me.  But I don’t understand why you’re so cold towards…”

“I’m not.  For all I know, everyone else in this room is an imposter.  Get over yourself.”

Nightwing’s trying for trust and teamwork but Batman has also hopped aboard the bitch train, repeating Diana’s “I don’t trust or know you” along with Arthur’s “do as I say” approach.

Congratulations to Barry for being the only actual adult on the Justice League.

Nightwing wisely ignores Batman’s PMSing and calls the group to order.  Dick observes: “Motive and identity of the culprit would just be speculation given what we have.  But someone intends to turn us against each other.”

NIghtwing also points out “Because whoever brought us here removed Wonder Woman’s lasso.  First thing I’d have reached for…They only want us to do one thing.”

Fight!  But Nightwing opts for the teamwork approach.  The Key, frustrated by all this cooperation, drops a Metallo reproduction on the heroes.  The group makes quick work of the wannabe Metallo.

The Flashes return, stumble over each other to announce their findings, and apologize to each other. Batman’s response: “Stop being cute”.

The Key’s continues to monologue: “That’s when I first recognized the potential power locked up in super-minds.  Power so profound it actually allowed me to access new universes.  And out there…that’s where I heard you calling…calling for help from behind the door that was shutting you out…”

Cyborg, Superman, Green Lanterns Simon Baz and Jessica Cruz, Lilith, and Arsenal are looking for their missing teammates.  It’s funny that Arsenal and Green Arrow weren’t taken by the Key.  Roy and Ollie actually have a past relationship in the DC Universe.  Those two would be the easiest to provoke into a fight.  I don’t think Green Arrow is a member of the League at the moment.

The captured heroes are fighting simulated Parademons.  By this point, Barry has had enough of Diana’s crap: “Don’t start with that again, Diana.  That we can’t trust each other.  That one of us is a ringer.”

Arthur questions Wally’s existence and is put in his place by Barry:  “…and I think you’d better watch what you’re implying, Arthur.” Yeah, you don’t mess with the Flash family.

The Titans and Leaguers go back and forth over the merits of friendship vs professional teamwork.

Donna calls Diana out:

“Go on.  Say it.  I know you’re thinking it.  It’s true, isn’t it?  We’re not close like the other six.  The way you reacted to me today…”

“It’s just a matter of trust.  Leave it alone.”

“I won’t.  The way you are with me, I’m hurt by it.”

Batman has been scanning the heroes with a device and it’s only showing seven organics: “One of isn’t human.  It’s Troy. Restrain her.”

Wonder Woman intervenes: “No!  Stop this! Get away from her!  This is Donna Troy.  And she’s not organic.  Not like the rest of us.  Not in a way that gadget would show.  I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say.  I didn’t want it to come out like this.  But it has to.  Before we turn on each other.  Donna Troy is not an organic human.  She was made whole, out of clay, by a magical process.  She was created as a weapon, a weapon forged to destroy me.  We prevented that destiny, and we gave her false memories so she could live a stable life. You were made to believe you were a human child, orphaned, rescued by me, raised by the Amazons.  This stopped you from becoming a weapon.  It allowed you to live as others live.  To become a hero.  A Titan.  I’m sorry.”

Was this from Meredith Finch’s Wonder Woman run?  Is this a new origin for Donna Troy?  Does Donna need another origin?  What is so wrong with the simple “orphaned girl raised by Amazons” angle?  Have we now established Diana was never made from clay? Are we stuck with the “daughter of Zeus” spin?

The Titans are comforting Donna.  Lilith pinpoints the heroes’ location from Donna’s distress.  The captured heroes burst into the Key’s control center at the same time the rest of the Titans and Justice League teleports in.  The Key decides retreat is the better part of valor.

Wonder Woman apologizes to Donna for keeping the truth from her.

The Key apologizes to the mysterious voice for failing him: “I’m sorry!  It wasn’t enough to free you!  I’m sorry!  I’m…Please, noo!  Aaaiieeeeee!”

“Who’s the menace behind the door?  Unlock the truth as Titans continues!”

What I Liked:

The Flashes – Barry and Wally show the rest of the group how heroes should behave.

What I Didn’t Like:

Heroes act like jerks toward each other for no reason.  So tired of this in comics.

Batman is a douchebag. Again!  

Wonder Woman’s behavior. Diana’s bitchy towards Donna because she’s lying to her?  Odd behavior for someone who carries a Lasso of Truth.

Donna’s new origin. Why? Writers keep throwing crap on Donna and hoping it sticks.  This may be carryover from the Wonder Woman title but Donna does not need any new additions to her history.  Go ahead, try and explain the history of Donna Troy to a casual fan.  I’ll be on the sidelines laughing as their head explodes.

Remains To Be Seen:                                                                                                                                                                      

The mysterious man behind the door.  Any guesses? Superboy-Prime punching the walls of reality again?  Ozymandias? Doctor Manhattan?  The Anti-Monitor?  Trigon the Terrible?  Mr. Twister? The man is most likely tied into Rebirth so it’s not going to be resolved anytime soon.

[pd-west-blog]

Blog 3: Arthur As King

I would like Arthur as a King. However, I feel as though I am unduly biased towards him because he serves as the protagonist in the tale. He is the epitome of a tragic character. His life’s work falls apart before him as his story comes to a close. He gave up the people he loved the most to protect his ideal of justice, and then watched as his attempt to create a just world come crashing down. However, despite his tragic ending, Arthur is admirable. Arthur in almost every instance put his country’s needs above his own, ruled with immense patience, and ultimately had the balls to realize where his downfalls were. I believe these characteristics made him a great king. 

Arthur’s life’s work was his country. In the second two books of “The sword and the Stone” we rarely hear about Arthur’s personal life. Instead the story is told through the stories of his subjects. The feelings and emotions of others are represented more than Arthur’s own. When the story speaks from Arthur’s perspective it is almost solely about his thoughts on his country and his knights. This creates the impression that above all he is a king for his people. Arthur, though human, avoids intertwining himself in personal affairs. This is seen in his choice to be ignorant of Lancelot and the queen’s affair. Whether or not he is offended by the affair is unclear, but it is irrelevant to the future of his country (until the ending of the story), and as such he does not involve himself in it. Perhaps he sees that Lancelot is a great commander and his queen is a good queen, as such, disgracing them would be neglectful to the prosperity of his country. As a leader this dis-involvement with personal affairs is a great attribute, though it may be detrimental to his own happiness. But personal and professional almost always have a way of conflicting, and a King who can always make a choice for his country rather than himself is probably a better king. At the end of the tale, despite his efforts to prevent this course of action, he is forced to sacrifices his friend, Lancelot, and his wife, Guinevere. He does this as it is required to preserve the justice he created. This shows that he puts his duties as king above all else.

An excerpt from Myth and National Identity in Nineteenth-Century Britain: The Legends of King Arthur and Robin Hood by Stephanie Barczewski describes King Arthur as he is in The poem “King Arthur” by Edward Bulwer Lytton written in 1849. In this poem Arthur is given three visions and asked to choose between them. Ultimately he choose one in which he is dead in a battle field, but Queen Victoria reigns over England. 

Mild, like all strength sits Crowned Liberty,

Wearing the aspects of a Youthful Queen: 

and far outstretch’d ‘long the unmeasured sea

Rest the vast shadow of her throne; serene

From the dumb icebergs to the fiery zone

Rest the vast shadow of that Guardian throne

Arthur, in this poem, is dedicated to a better future, and is willing to give his life for that. He has a cause greater than himself and that allows him to be a selfless and great leader. 

Arthur is extremely patient. He is never hasty in his decisions, and is devoted to understanding and empathizing with his people, even when they are opposing him. This characteristic, when he takes it too far with Mordred, ultimately leads to his downfall.  Arthur entrusts his Kingdom to Mordred, his bastard son, refusing to see the evil in him. He is betrayed. When the Queen speaks to Mordred asking him to have mercy she says “He was saying how he (Arthur) loved you only a day or two before this misery began”(T.H. White). Mordred, however, appears to hate him. This exemplifies Arthur’s desire to see the good in people despite the challenge of it and the patience he employs to do this. Arthur when speaking to his knights acts as a senior advisor, but is empathetic to their situations.

“Aglovale, you have every right to try for revenge against the Orkneys, and I will not stop you if you if you do try. But I want you to know what you are doing…The Orkneys killed your father and brother. Now you are going to kill some Orkneys, and Gawaine and his sons will kill your sons(T.H. White)”.

This conversation, similar to many others that Arthur engages in, it is representative of his patience and his desire for reason. He is not tyrannical. He appeals to people logically, and gives his reason for how he should like things to be done. This not only allows for his subjects to have a voice, but allows him to engage with his subjects and understand why the are acting as they are. This mutual understanding is crucial to a well run kingdom.

Arthur realizes his flaws. It may have been to late for him, his life may have ended tragically. However, in the end he was devoted to figuring out what when wrong, and changing it.  Arthur when speaking to Lancelot towards the end of book three of the “The Sword in the Stone” says this:

“When I started the Table, it was to stop anarchy. It was a channel for brute force, so that the people who had to use force could be made to do so in a useful way…It was a mistake because the table itself was founded on force. Right must be established by right (T.H. White)”.

Arthur is a critical thinker in his speech. He is able a willing to see what is wrong, even if it is by his own hand. Furthermore he is dedicated to fixing it. This is seen in the final stage of the story when he asks his page, Tom Newbold, not to fight in what he assumes will be his last battle.

“This page was called young Tom of Newbold Revell near Warwick, and the old king set him off before the battle, upon pain of dire disgrace. You see, the King wanted there to be be somebody left, who would remember their famous idea. He wanted badly that Tom should go back to Newbold Revell, where he could grow into an old man and live his life in peace—and he wanted him to tell everybody who would listen about his accent idea, which both of them had once thought was a good idea(T. H. White).”

This is indicative of his desire for the world to be better. Even though he has failed, he admits to it with the desire that the future can learn from the mistakes of the past. He is a ruler devoted above all to the success of humanity. Arthur, with the respectively described characteristics, is a king that I would be happy to see in power.

(retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3LpQfMXmeg.)

--Although not all depictions of Arthur are the same. I found this to be quite funny and depict Arthur quite the opposite as he was depicted within “The Sword and the Stone”. Here he is a bit of a brute and yelling at his subjects to be quiet. It would be safer to say that who Arthur was is up to the author describing him and their agenda. I would like the Arthur of “The Sword and the Stone”, but I would not like the Arthur in this video as a king. 

Source: 

White, T.H. (2011) The Once and Future King. New York: Penguin Group (USA)

[neverwatchedonepiece]

625: "Tension! Aokiji vs Doflamingo!"

One a scale of one to Kuzan, how bad is Doflamingo’s day going?

Only have time for one episode today but luckily it was a good one. 625 was crammed with intrigue and plot acceleration - not to mention adorable slice of life moments.

I know the next three episodes are filler (the thumbnail at the top corner of each video gave it away). Are they worth watching? I think I spied the Kung Fu Dugongs in the preview to 626. Those little guys were brilliant. xD

Mmmm... Dat Delicious Peril

Must confess I was hyped for this episode. The action continued were 624 left off: Doflamingo astride Smoker with Kuzan at his back.

“I need you to get off my friend.”

The way Doflamingo reacted to the imminent danger was interesting. The slow creep of ice towards him was a warning. He didn’t move. Slasher smile fixed to his face, he glanced about, considered: am I calm enough to retreat and let this slide?

Doflamingo served a large helping of Hell No.

He decided, “Screw it,” and went for the kill. Smoker almost went to the Big Cigar Shop in the sky. Luckily, his awesome friend had his back and froze Doflamingo’s feathery ass.

I knew Doflamingo wasn’t beaten because the cheeky little glint of his frozen shades told me so. He broke out of Kuzan’s ice casing and just stood there, staring at Kuzan, chuckling like a madman. (Also I love how Kuzan’s Devil Fruit lets opponents escape with all their clothing and accessories intact. He’s a good guy, really.)

For a second, I thought there might be a fight. Dramatic music kicked in. Kuzan and Doflamingo stared each other down. Then Doflamingo sauntered straight past Kuzan like it was nothing.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said. “But if I can’t keep Smoker’s mouth shut, I will have to change my approach.”

Straight up threat there. Smoker now knows he can’t go blabbing about what Vergo has done. It’s probably in Smoker’s best interest, to be honest. If Vergo infiltrated the Marines, there might be more of Doflamingo’s agents crawling about the woodwork. Then again, Akainu is now in charge, and I’ll bet he’d love nothing more than to detect and crush any hidden pirates in the Marine ranks.

Doflamingo’s next dig was more interesting.

“But could you tell me one thing? Just what are you now, Kuzan? The things I’ve heard about you aren’t cool. The face of a vagabond is different from one who has a purpose.”

Now I’ve watched Film Z, Doflamingo’s comment “What are you now?” echoes what Kuzan said about himself. At that point, Kuzan wasn’t sure and even asked himself, “Just what am I now?” He sort of answered his own question, referring to himself as “an ally of justice.” Maybe. 

I still don’t know the full significance of Doflamingo’s pointed dig at Kuzan, but from the way Kuzan reacted once Doflamingo, Baby 5 and Buffalo flew off and Smoker said, “You’re not connected with the underworld, are you?”.... well, it got me wondering.

Kuzan sent the nosey G5 guys away while he had a quiet word with Smoker.

“I’m still the same person, Smoker.”

“That’s good then.”

I wonder if this means Kuzan *is* operating in the underworld, but that he told Smoker he was “the same person” means Smoker is no longer above dodgy dealings as long as Kuzan is still on the right side.

“At any rate, don’t take your eyes off Doflamingo. He is both a Shichibukai and a king of Dressrosa. He is an extremely dangerous pirate.”

Well, the king status explains why he has a massive house and a ton of servants. But this further complicates matters. Is Doflamingo an actual king, like one of the World Nobles? Or is this something lost in translation, like a kingpin, drug lord type of a banana republic?

“Tell Sakazuki to get the admirals moving. In the worst case scenario, the cogs will be destroyed and this will become the biggest threat that Sakazuki’s new Marines will have to face. I’ve warned you.”

Laying aside the whole aura of menace and the existence of important (metaphorical?) cogs, the fact that Kuzan is still willing to work with Akainu (Sakazuki is his real name, right?) speaks volumes about his character. I’m still not certain if Akainu knows Kuzan is still supporting them or whether this is a voluntary thing on Kuzan’s part and he continues to help from the shadows because he feels he must.

Either way, I like it.

Also laughed a lot when he forgot he was going to ask G5 to keep what had happened a secret. Lol, he’s still absent-minded. 

Still, the escalating sense of imminent conflict is great. Glad the plot is building towards something again. I wonder if the Marines know about Doflamingo, Kaidou and SMILE? Maybe Kuzan knows and that’s why he’s secretly warning Akainu to mobilise?

Maybe it’s something completely different.

Either way, I place some of the blame on this guy.

Hi, Caesar!

Aww, look. He’s thrilled to be the cause of it all. xD

On board Sunny, Law explained the trade relationship between Doflamingo and Kaidou. For some reason, he was cool explaining the plan to Foxfire and Momonosuke, who were hanging around listening in for no real reason. Still not sure why Law was cool with the alliance’s secret plan being heard by a pair of randoms from Wano, but I’m sure there is a reason.

I loved that even Foxfire and Momonosuke were shocked at the Alliance going after Kaidou.

Law also explained the plan in greater detail, which is great for us fans.

“To defeat Kaidou,” he said, “we must whittle down his fighting force. Kaidou has been buying many Zoan SMILEs from Doflamingo. There are many risk to SMILEs, but despite that, Kaidou now has over five hundred Devil Fruit users in his crew.”

First off, holy crap. Five hundred Devil Fruit users in his crew? That is a number, it really is.

Secondly, I was wrong about Kaidou wanting to use the SMILEs to boost his own beastly strength. He’s creating stronger crew. That’s definitely better. Much more of a threat if you have strong crew as well as being an absolute unit yourself.

Thirdly, there are risks to SMILEs. I wonder if these risks will give the StrawHearts (my new name for the Alliance) an in with Kaidou’s crew? As in, the ones SMILE didn’t work on will be injured or bitter and willing to betray Kaidou? Hmm...

“But Kaidou won’t be making any more,” Law added, and looked straight at Caesar.

Caesar was like, “Who me? Ehehehehe.”  I loved that moment when Chopper was like, “Omg, you create the ingredients for SMILE? That’s really impressive!” and when Law said, “Nah, he just improved Vegapunk’s work,” Chopper was like, “Oh.”

Totally don’t get why no one is impressed by that, to be honest. Science is all about improving and refining others’ work, even things that seem to be completely new. If Caesar adapted and improved SMILE, that’s still a legit achievement, I think. (I can’t believe I’m sticking up for Caesar. xD)

At any rate, Law also revealed there is another SMILE factory on Dressrosa. Their mission: find and destroy. Once that’s done, Kaidou won’t he able to increase his forces. The only caution (and a significant one at that) is that Doflamingo is a total pro and will not sit idly by while the StrawHearts mess up his business.

Luckily, Dressrosa is also where Foxfire and Momonosuke need to go. Apparently, they’re off to rescue a comrade who is imprisoned there. (Maybe that’s why Law was okay for Foxfire and Momo sticking around. It seems like Oda is going to include them in next arc’s plotline too. I think this is the first time this has happened in One Piece. And not only to them, but a villain too!)

This Was Just Great

Once Law was done explaining the plan, clouds gathered overhead. It was slice of life time. I know I love plot and intrigue but I also cherish those little peaceful moments between arcs, when the Strawhats are just hanging out on Sunny, enjoying the freedom of the sea.

There was a hair-raising moment when Sunny was almost crushed by a single giant hailstone (thanks Nami, Usopp, Chopper and Franky for timely avoidance tactics.) Momonosuke was super impressed by the Coup de Burst and Nami offered him a tour of Sunny.

I was like, “Yes! Give him a tour so I can see it too!” xD

Nami spent hours taking little Momonosuke round Sunny. He saw the fish tank, the library, got some lunch from Sanji, was examined by Dr Chopper - complete with hilarous tache - and sort of spoiled it with that moment in the bath with Robin but... meh, it’s Oda’s humour so whatever. :)

The nighttime scene was nice too. Usopp and Chopper dressing up in samurai armour and messing about on deck. Luffy fishing in armour (lol). Foxfire and Zoro sparring because Foxfire thought Zoro was the zombie swordsman from Thriller Bark because he had Shunsui (lol). Foxfire’s fiery sword slashes waking up and almost frying Caesar (double lol).

Brook said some pretty smart things about Doflamingo right at the end, which I am eighty-five percent certain no one will have heard because he was half talking to himself.

“Between losing his place as a Shichibukai and fighting a Yonko. I rather expect him to do neither and come after us.”

Me too, Brook. Me too.

And there was a rabbit turtle thing plus a guy with flowing cape, top hat and scary, shiny monocle. I’m guessing he is the filler bad guy?

Listen to Broooook. He knoooooows.

[tenaciouscupcaketaco]

“

1989-2017 Poetic Work Of Mario William Vitale

(Manuscript of Poet Mario William Vitale) From 1993-1997 - Attended State University in Connecticut,Attempted plays : Tartuffe, Miracle Of St. Anthony and Balm in Gieade,( His poetic aspirations had in 1989 from submitting his first poem entitled, "Remembrance Of A Loved One"- (Sparrowgrass Poetry Forum)Next from 1989-1997 ( Wrote primarily for Poetry.com and The International Library Of Poetry),* Received editors choice award in 1997 for poem, " A Beacon Of Light ",(1998) Sent poetic manuscript to N.Y. Time Magazine and Chief Editor " John Hyland".Back with rave reviews !* ( From 1999-2008:Had adapted a real keen sense of style for writing poetry: ( 1999- Sent Editorial to:New Man Magazine for the Passion of Christ Movie;Sent followup letter to company with poetry platform information attached,* 2000-2007 : Magazine : ( Catholic) Maries Rose Ferron Magazine submitted poem" Beacon Of Light", which had excellent editorial reviews as the outset !2008- Wrote poem entitled: ( The Heavy Cross) to Poetry.com* Achieved Poetry status of work of Excellence in writing from the Academy Of American Poetry in which still having received rank and status as a member of Academy;* ( The Connecticut Poetry Society)* Short story submitted entitled, "China Dog Ray" submitted to Virginia WritersQuarterly, West Virginia, Also having member status on their board of Poetry.* ( Attribute Poetry to an ever increasing love of God and his unconditional love that he has for us in return,Thankfulness toward family and friends.( To our past ancestors who fought to uphold freedom that far too many of us take for granted ?One needs a pure heart that's fixed on truth,This is in order to withstand the true great test of time !Life is way too short,Press toward the goal or mark of our high calling that is in Christ Jesus The Lord !~My contempoarry artists include that of ellan Bryant Voight, Kay Ryan and carl Phillips.Which all three are Participants in the Academy Of American Poetry.* Having been a member since 2006,My work reflects the likes of past poets such as C.S.Lewis, Hawthorne and edgar Allen Poe.Most of my work reflects with the values of religious beliefs intact,( In my personal view it is essential in demonstrating a real heart of creativepassion !The reader I believe will benefit by my artistic style of development in a verypositive light.)To further the need for poetry to become more main stream, Mario Vitale was born in Bristol , Ct Has developed a skill for writing poetry in the free verse form. has been featured on Hubpages.com, Starlitecafe.com & Poetry soup. Vitale lives with his elderly mother Ann Soulier in Wolcott, Ct. Currently has written well over 1,000 poems & 2 short story's toward credit platform. Vitale has taken the poetic world by storm being featured on Google, Yahoo & MSN. Looks up to contemporaries in the poetry industry such as John Ashbery & Major Jackson. Has been a favorite featured poet reader at Barnes & Noble in Waterbury, Ct. Also featured on such sites as Poetry soup, Writer's café & Neo Poet. Mario William Vitale 1 Winfield Drive Wolcott, ct 06716 A Beacon Of Light Written by: Mario Vitale A beacon of light to a much hurting world in need ! Can't help but to claim.., Some sense of identity, Stregnth and encouragement only come from above ! Amidst in the distance, the trapped seagull.., Lieth frightened but still yet adrift ! In a most vengeful fashion striking the passing fish, A true source of hope, Yet a most triumphal beam ! This beacon of light shineth forth, Passerby's can err' escape the helping hand.., To the most sparkling of radiance ! (2)Thanksgiving Dinner by Mario Vitale Home for the holiday from New Orleans, with Mother and Father at the tiny drop leaf, brown rosewood, mahogany table with the gold, grinning claw feet; Father, choler- red-in the-face, short- sleeved white shirt and cane, says the blessing as Mother brings in the turkey and cranberry. Then Mother asks, “Won’t you have more?” and father : “Do you think Moll Flanders was a whore?” (I have suffered and bleached my hair blond.) I am silent before their replies. Mother sighs. “I can scarce speak to her.” And Father, too, quotes Shakespeare. (I am thin as paper and the rose- colored bowl of blown glass sitting on the silver stand, half- filled with water.) “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless daughter” (3) Song of Spring Today I heard a robin sing heralding the coming spring A song of exultation to the sky an ode to earth's awakening I saw a willow on the hill It's branches greening in the sun and all the earth seemed hushed & still sleeping streams began to run I heard a softly rising breeze whispering through the grass singing through the still bare trees waiting winter's chill to pass I saw the sun, so bright and warm warming the earth after the rain the buds and leaves, no frost to harm at least, at last, it's spring again. (4) The Ancients It's my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping to my knees unaware of invisibles within, grubbing in their tunnels A lizard taps my foot, responding, I muse to its touch, my thoughts like Indian visions, And when daylight mushrooms into night, and an owl hoots from cedar, I still sit with a lizard on my shoe Huddled with the ancients of the woods (5) Epiphany Written by: Mario Vitale It clings to the cliffed shore, to the wintered face of the thistle path, to the fingers of the old man's glove as he waves his memory homeward In that breath between come and go she moves up from the bay; gold turns her stride, the line of her dress, the soft sea pulling at her feet When he reaches out and the frail birds fly and the sun and the sky have married deep into the sea, it clings Even as his shadow threads retreat, it clings, even now as it dissolves to mist (6) A Return Home, Only Time Will Tell Written by: Mario Vitale Oh blessed hope ! Both hardly a believable dream, Sweltering heat with bloodshed in the street... Send the troops home ! There is no clear reason for them to roam.., These are desolate times ! For we have chosen ill faded rhymes.., The casualties are enormous ? For a stated cause that clearly atrocious.., A mother's cry as the door chime rings, A vanishing salute to freedom as the church choir sings ! Let us look above to all the heavenly love.., Merciful one, take this chip off my shoulder.., Stop the senseless fighting before our dear nation grows a bit colder, Suddenly, seeds were dropped out of a farmers bag, In time roots spring up fresh out of the fertile soil... As the sun heats up, Time will tell when this harvest will soon boil... In the vast game of life, One's time is so very brief ! The soul yearns for its' heavenly relief.., Share with others who may want to turn over a brand new leaf.., Time will tell of the true importance of helping one another, To never give into the finish line.., Nor harsh criticism that our society puts out ! Like a famous fighter in his final bout ! Time will tell of the return home, To the open arms of a loved one ! (7) A Valiant Knight Written by: Mario Vitale A Valiant Knight Death springs a new day basking in the breeze In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place A far off castle in the mountains away from it all A valiant knight lived in the structure of it's dwelling Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight He would often fight for the cause of stregnth and dignity The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust Often they would disagree on who it was to serve A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy The maiden would often come forth and see For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet Having a way of words that he would often share The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom The legacy of golden capulets filled ardent vestibules Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good (8) Hampton Beach The smell of fresh fry doe Time had elapsed playing at the casino Fresh lobster with a side order of fries Those spacious wonderful sky's Down at the shell the continental were playing A walk by the lady of a statue in waiting Flip flops and the sound of laughter A playground for kids in the middle The boardwalk with seagulls flocking over head Fire works in the midnight air with a cheer (9) God's World It is raining again. Summer will be over before it ever gets here Thunder rolls far away, drops hit the windshield, the sky turns gray The Sunflower, the blue Delpinium, the white Stinkwood drink the moisture greedily. The green and silver leaves of the Aspens sparkle as the rain hits them, and the wind turns them round and round The creek flows on, oblivious to the change in the weather. A break in the clouds allows a bit of sun to hit the side of a towering mountain TRate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)

Mario William Vitale